Dear Readers,
Hope you are enjoying the journey so far :o) Popped by to inform you that I will post chapter nine shortly, but there will be a lapse of time between 9 and 10, since 10 is undergoing rather intensive "renovations"...I thank you for support, and appreciate any kind of critique/feedback, so do try and leave some!
Gnomes :o)
There was a loud thud, followed by Bill's voice.
"Blast!"
Ginny hurried outside and gasped.
"You attacked Ryan?"
"I didn't look before I did it! I thought he was a…I don't know what I thought he was. Blast! That was bloody thick of me, it was."
Ginny began to giggle nervously.
"He's going to KILL us when you unlock him! I can't believe we panicked like that."
"Yeah…'last time I go camping with you."
"Oh, give me a break!" Ginny protested, still giggling. "You were just as scared as I am, you and your only fear fear itself nonsense."
Bill released Ryan and helped him stand up again. Ryan rubbed his head.
"That's swell, mate," Ryan told Bill. "I come over to say hi and you knock me out with a spell."
"It's not our fault you're so tall," Ginny broke in, trying not to laugh. "You looked…scary from inside that thing."
"Sorry, mate," Bill told him apologetically.
"No worries." Ryan grinned. "Can I try out your tent, though?"
"Yeah sure!" Bill exclaimed . "Gin, why don't you show him around and I'll get us something to eat."
Ginny led him around to the opening.
"So that's how you get in," Ryan commented. "I was busy thinking you had to say a keyword of some sort."
He followed her inside and she began the tour.
"This here is the sitting room, the couches are really comfy. Then to your left are the bedrooms, there are three of them, and they're all quite small. Actually, the biggest room in all of this is the game room, which is further down to your right."
"Wicked! Where'd your brother get this?" Ryan asked, looking around, amazed.
"My dad fixed it up," Ginny said proudly.
"Your dad? Whoa, I'd love to meet him," said Ryan in genuine awe.
"Yeah, he's one of a kind," Ginny said, feeling a pang of nostalgia. "So, guess where Bill is hauling me to next week?"
"Next week's the Quidditch Final," Ryan reminded her.
"Like I'd forgotten. I mean the day after," she explained.
"Oh, right, it's the Gringotts Banquet, isn't it?"
"How did you know that?" Ginny asked, incredulous.
"Because I'm going too. My father's been head of the security department at Gringotts for twenty-two years, so I've been dragged there since I was an ankle-biter."
"So Bill works for your dad?"
"That's a way of sayin' it."
"That's just sick, you know. I work for you, my brother works for your dad."
"You don't work for me," Ryan said exasperated.
"You don't call that work? Keep on moving, Weasley! Where's that watchful eye, Weasley, I'm not seeing it! How could ya miss the snitch, it was right in front o' ya! Faster, Weasley, faster!" she imitated him.
They both laughed, plopping down on a squashy red couch. For a moment, they were silent.
"I hate getting dressed up," Ryan confessed suddenly.
"Me too. You've got experience though- you do this every year. And I'm a girl so it's infinitely worse. I'm not used to spending five hours in an itchy dress and painfully high heels."
"It's ace that you're going, though," Ryan put in cheerfully. "These functions get unbelievably dull if you don't have someone to talk to. With the way practices are going, we'll probably be discussing our win against the Stings."
"The way practices are- hey! I thought you hate the way we're playing!" Ginny objected.
"No way, I'm stoked with how the team's been playing lately. That's just my excellent motivational technique."
"Well it stinks," said Ginny flatly.
"It does not. Anyway, about that Wronsky Feint--"
"Don't change the subject. I think it stinks."
"The Wronsky Feint?"
"No, RYAN. Your 'motivational technique'. Why don't you tell us we're good once in a while? You really shouldn't underestimate the power of positive reinforcement."
"Yeah? Well I think all positive reinforcement does is make players overconfident. An overblown ego makes an underachieving Quid player,"Ryan said wisely.
Ginny gaped at him.
"And this is coming from you."
"What d'you mean by that?" he asked, surprised.
She was at loss for words.
"Ryan! You-you've got enough ego to compensate for the entire team," she blurted.
Ryan stiffened as the room descended into an uncomfortable silence. Right on time, Bill stuck his head into the tent.
"P.B. sandwiches, anyone?"
"I've gotta go," Ryan muttered, rising quickly.
"Are you sure? It's cool if you don't like peanut butter, I can get you something else," Bill joked.
"I just realized my mum wants me to take care of something," Ryan lied. "Great place, mate, see ya."
Without a single glance at a remorseful Ginny, he disappeared into the darkness. Bill came into the tent, setting the plate of sandwiches on the small, wooden table.
"D'you think he's angry cause I jinxed him?" he wondered aloud.
"Oh Bill, I hardly think so," Ginny groaned, burying her face in her hands.
---
Before practice the next day, Ginny vowed to work twice as hard in order to make up for her lack of tact the day before. Ryan endeavoured to treat Ginny as he always would. Though it may have fooled the rest of the team, Ginny noticed that he kept at a distance, and remained silent even when she finally performed a successful Wronsky - the first time she'd managed it during a practice. Everybody applauded and cheered, but Ryan remained indifferent, merely nodding and then preoccupying himself with Benjy, who was sprawled on the grass after smashing into the ground.
Ginny was hurt by his apathy, especially after he'd drilled her repeatedly about getting it right, but she managed to conceal it. She celebrated with her teammates, trained hard the rest of practice and sat as far as possible from where Ryan stood during the end-of-practice "pep talk".
"Team," he began gravely, "The big game is just one bloody week away. The Stings are a greater threat than any other team because they've got an ex-Borne, and she's given them all she knows about the way we play. Now coming up with completely fresh strategies isn't all we've gotta do to make the Cup. Our playing MUST BE FLAWLESS."
He paused for a moment, looking down into each of their faces before resuming.
"Knox, getting the quaffle in nine times out of ten is good enough for the Stings but not for the 'Bornes. For the next seven days I'm gonna need you to really perfect your far shot. Maguire, the Stings' beaters are going to target you because I'm sure Nikki's instructed them to, soyou gottabe on your guard. Anderson, Wirruna, I'll need you both to keep pelting bludgers at her for practice, a'right? We've got to be prepared for anything that might come our way. Wirrinun, you must control your speed. We haven't all got Firebolts and if you can't break on time you'll collide with a goalpost and I'm tellin' you all now, we will have no injured players on this team. Keep using those strategies we talked about. Weasley, one second of spacing out could lose the game for all of us, so stay focused. Okay, then."
He took a deep breath, then with some difficulty he added,
"Aside from that, you blokes are doin' ace. I can honestly say that there isn't one bodgy player on my team. Every, single one of you deserve to beat the Stings."
The team gaped at him. Ginny nearly toppled over in surprise.
"Thanks, mate," Benjy said finally, still staring at him in disbelief.
The rest of the team thanked him in turn and then traipsed on home, sore as ever. It took Ginny a bit of time to recuperate and when she ultimately did, Ryan was already absorbed in his game plans, muttering to himself.
"Hey," she said uneasily.
He looked up, startled.
"I didn't realize anyone was still here," he said.
"Yes, well, I am, and I'm sorry," she replied. "I've got a nasty habit of blurting stupid things, as you were so fortunate as to witness yesterday, and I apologize."
"Reckon I deserved it," Ryan said, standing up. "What's the point of being a captain if I can't act like one, y'know, if I can't be censured from time to time. I've been a real knocker lately and you're the only one who had the nerve to say anything. Or maybe the rest of the team's just used to it, I don't know, but wh'tever it is, I'm glad you said it."
He held out his hand, his tanned face conveying genuine humility, his ocean-blue eyes exuding remarkable strength. Her face flushed but full of admiration, she shook his hand, and they both smiled.
Bodgy: inferior
Knocker: somebody who criticizes
