A/N: gasps...No...it couldn't be...an update without having to be reminded that I should update? Anyway, thank you all for reviewing and thank you, KD, for betaing this.

I hope you like it...

The Romilda Vane Conspiracy

It's funny how the lives of Quidditch stars and their significant others are very much alike. For a starter, say you're playing Quidditch…you have to attend practices because that is what you do. They drain all your energy out of you, and at the end the coach will tell you that you can do so much better. So you go home to talk to your friends about the terrible day you've had. But watch out! Most of your friends play the beautiful game too and most of them will probably be part of the other teams. Teams you want to keep your tactics secret from, teams that will not hesitate to use your tactics or come up with diversionary tactics. So, even though your greatest desire is to unwind from your tough day, you won't be able to do it in front of your friends in order to keep your secrets safe until the game.

Because that's the next step: the game. It's just like practice, only this time it's for real. The other team is not the reserve players that try to prove they can be first string too. No, the other team is a team that's bound on winning the game to get further into the League or closer to the World Cup and the only way is by beating you. You try your best not to let them win, score the most goals and pray their Seeker is worse than yours. Because no matter how many goals you make, if the Snitch shows too soon, all your efforts will be worthless…

Then again, let's say you win. A press conference will be held afterwards, and (no matter how tired and sweaty you are) you have to be there to tell everybody that you didn't expect this at all. That you'd worked for it, but it always depends on multiple factors and all that kind of dragon dung. And when that's over, you get to take your shower, only to rush to a charity function to help the war orphans.

Finally, your day is over and you can go to sleep, only to get up early in the morning to go to yet another practice…

As a Quidditch star's significant other, you're expected to show up at practices. As already stated, practices can be hell and you're supposed to support your boyfriend/girlfriend/husband/wife/anything that isn't a one-night-stand. What everybody fails to mention is that watching practices is more boring than waiting for a Flobberworm to finish eating its lettuce. Sure, it's fun when they play a little scrimmage against the second stringers (or first stringers if your significant other is playing second string). But most practices consist of doing the same trick over and over again until the players are worn out and don't want to (or aren't able to) do anything else. And you'll be the one to cheer them up after the coaches just told them their game is pure rubbish. You'll be the one they'll want to talk to because they can't say anything to their friends (just like you, by the way…you're supposed to keep all their secrets, no matter how much or how little you know of them).

And then there's the game. The good part is that it will be interesting (or, when it isn't, it will most likely be short). But after 12 League games, 17 friendly matches and (if your significant other has the privilege to play for his or her country) 20 eliminating games to place themselves for the 8 games of the World Cup, not counting the 20-odd friendly international games and all of which you're expected to attend…you would eat a Hippogriff just to get out of one.

However, you can of course get out of attending practices by getting a job and your fellow significant others will respect you so much for that. But…when you manage to attend a game or a practice, they will form cliques and shut you out. They respect you, but they envy you more because you had the common sense to stay with your job.

Still, if you try really hard, they'll acknowledge you and talk to you…something you'll be very grateful for once you have to attend press conferences and charity events and whatever. You'll be glad to have anyone else to talk to besides your Quidditch star whatever he or she may be to you. Because the press will want to talk to him or her. His or her opponents will want to talk. And his or her fellow Quidditch stars definitely will want to talk.

And when you finally get to bed, your significant other is far too tired to do anything besides sleep, so you decide to talk to him or her about everything the following day…only to realize he or she has left very early for practice.

My average day consists of both. Some say I'm lucky because I already am part of the Quidditch world and therefore know people at the different functions and matches. But that doesn't change the fact that I don't really get to see Harry. He's up in the air while I'm in the stands (or I'm up in the air while he's in the stands). And it certainly doesn't change the fact that my next practice was scheduled at the same time as Harry's match against Italy. So, I rallied up all the courage I had (hey, I wasn't a Gryffindor for nothing!) and went to see Gwenog just before practice started.

"Gwenog," I said. Gwenog just grunted and didn't even try to tear her eyes away from the pieces of parchment she was looking at. So I continued, "I can't come to next practice. I would like a day off."

"No," Gwenog said, again without looking up.

"What!" I exclaimed. "Gwenog!"

This made Gwenog look up. "Yes Miss Weasley, please enlighten us as to why you will not be able to make it to next practice."

"Harry will be playing Italy in Italy," I said.

"And these are…what…the eighth finals?"

"Well, yes…"

"And you can't just not go and instead attend the next one?"

"I could, but it's not certain if they will make it. They have to win, you know." I was getting frustrated. "Come on, Gwenog! You know this world! I have to be there!"

She sighed and put all the scattered bits of parchment back on one pile. "I would have to put Robbins in."

"She has gotten better," I said, knowing that I was getting close now. "And it's just one practice."

"Do you know when the next match will be?"

Oh bugger! Oh bollocking, buggering bollocks!

"You will not be part of the base if you take that practice off. That's team policy: if a player doesn't show up for the last practice, she gives up her right to be in the base. No matter how good she is."

"I really must go watch Harry. It's just…I'm his girlfriend…that's how the rules of this world are."

"Are you certain?"

Even though I was getting close to her agreeing I could take practice off, I somehow felt guiltier than ever. How on earth does she manage to do that? Still, I really needed to go to Harry's game and I reckoned that even Robbins wouldn't be able to do that much harm in the half an hour I wasn't allowed to play in the match. "I definitely am," I therefore said.

She sighed again and stood up. "Don't blame me if we lose the match…you can go see that boyfriend of yours."

I managed to hold back a snort. So now he was 'that boyfriend of mine'? "Thanks, Gwenog!"

She looked up at me with such hostility in her eyes that I smiled weakly and hurried quickly out of her office. I may play the most dangerous position there is in Quidditch, but I value my life enough to get out of Gwenog's way when she's like that.

What I didn't tell Gwenog was that Harry actually had no clue that I would go see his game. He'd told me various times that practice was important and that I should use my days off when I really would need them (his exact words were 'when you're too sick to stay on your broom', but who needs their health anyway?).

That was also most probably the reason why I woke up that Saturday morning from a tapping sound at my window. Knowing fully well that I had to get up to open the window for the owl seeing as how Tammy was still travelling around to practice for her next match, I threw the covers off before I lost my courage of embracing the cold.

Yes, definitely too cold this early in the morning. I quickly Summoned Mum's latest addition to my vastly growing jumper collection and put it on. Then I saw whose owl it was…

"Hey girl," I cooed, beaming, standing up and opening the window for her. In one swift and somewhat regal motion, she dropped the letter in my hand and flew towards the kitchen.

Rolling my eyes at the fact that Harry most likely forgot to feed her before he sent her out, I followed her, opening the letter as I walked.

Hey Gin!

Has Gwenog killed you yet for not doing a Wronski Feint?

I glared at the bit of parchment. Just because he pulled off a Wronski Feint every now and then didn't mean I had to! A soft brush of my legs distracted me and I saw Snuffles enter the kitchen, obviously wanting to be fed. So I let out a deep sigh and started to make breakfast for the three of us while Snuffles and Hedwig were chasing each other around the kitchen in a somewhat playful way. Not bothering to call them back (it's no use, really…they do it every time they're together) I put Snuffles' bowl down on the floor, put some pieces of bacon on a plate for Hedwig and made myself a plate with the rest of the food.

As it quieted down around me, I turned back to the letter and continued,

Just kidding! You're one of the best players I've ever seen.

I couldn't help but snort. Of course he has to say that, he's my boyfriend!

Italy's great and the weather is absolutely perfect, but I would rather be back in Wales. Sitting in the stands while it rains so I can watch you practice. When I told this to Wood, I was certain he was going to kill me. Really, I don't know what Katie sees in him!

I'll be back in London two days after the match ends. I really hope it doesn't last long…yes, I know, I know! I'm the main factor in that decision…it's just…I miss you…our lives are far too busy right now. But you do your thing, and I will do my thing and I really hope I'll see you Monday evening.

Love,

Harry

p.s. Kick Gwenog's arse so she'll shut up on you being a Seeker once and for all, alright?

I bit my lip with a smile, grabbed a piece of paper and wrote a quick, 'Break the record. Love, Ginny' and handed it to Hedwig. She started to hoot and affectionately pecked my finger, but stayed still long enough for me to attach the letter. "Give Harry a kiss from me, will you?" She grabbed the last piece of bacon I hadn't yet eaten and flew off. Next to me, Snuffles put his head on my lap and I started to stroke his head absentmindedly. "Your master is just…something…"

At nine o'clock I entered the Leaky Cauldron. Ever since the end of the war it had started to fill more and more and although the real rush would start in August, just before term started, Tom was busy pouring drinks for everyone.

"Hello Miss Weasley," he greeted me. "You'll have to wait for a table."

"That's okay," I smiled. "I'm just meeting…oh, hey Katie!"

Katie walked up to us with a smile on her face.

"A table for two will be even more difficult," Tom said thoughtfully.

"It really is okay, Tom," I smiled again. "We are going to see the match in Italy."

"Going to support Harry, are you? Well, give him my regards." And with that, he went back to his work.

"Ready?" Katie asked.

I nodded. "Thanks for taking me with you."

Katie grinned. "He still doesn't suspect anything?"

"As far as I know, he doesn't," I grinned back. "Of course, it helps that he's invited Ron and Hermione…so no one will notice my absence."

We arrived at the International Apparition Point and Katie handed me my ticket with the Apparition instructions. The next moment we stood in front of the Italian National Quidditch Pitch…affectionately known as the Coliseum.

"The one in Rome is a copy of this one," Katie came up next to me. "Of course, the city wasn't large enough so they sized it down a bit so it could fit. Let's go inside."

"How do you know this?" I asked, following her inside and showing the entrancewitch my ticket.

"Oliver," she said simply. "Oh and speaking of my boyfriend…what is it with that torrid affair you two are having?"

I grinned sheepishly. "Just our way of getting rid of annoying reporters that want to find out whether Harry and I are back together again or not."

"And you needed Oliver why?" Katie asked.

"Because he could laugh along with the joke?" I tried with a shrug.

"Well, it's nice to know one of my friends is desperately going after my boyfriend," she smiled. Thank Merlin! She's okay with it.

We walked towards the V.I.P.-lounge as the team wasn't allowed to see anyone except each other when a very familiar voice reached our ears.

"I have to get back," Harry's voice sounded impatient, as if the person he was talking to had made a habit out of stalking him.

"Can't a girl give you a good-luck kiss?" a feminine voice said seductively. My eyes grew wide and Katie had to pull me back to keep me from barging over there. How dare she?

"Kaylee, I've told you this millions of times…I have a girlfriend. And right now, I have to prepare for the match."

"But she's not here, is she?"

"Does that matter?" I couldn't help a triumphant smile from appearing on my face as Harry continued, "She is the most beautiful, amazing, powerful witch I've ever had the chance to know. I know how it feels to be apart from her and that was my own stubborn, idiotic fault. I've known her since I was eleven and I love her. So stop stalking me and go cheer on your brother. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a match to win."

I wanted nothing more than to catch up with Harry, but he was already out of sight when I got into the corridor where a woman with long, golden-blond hair was standing. And as she turned around, I didn't understand how Harry could have called me the most beautiful witch he'd ever known in her face. She was far more beautiful than I'd ever be…

"Hi," I said, feeling a bit embarrassed even though she'd just been brushed off by my boyfriend.

"Can I help you?" she asked impatiently.

"You wouldn't know where the V.I.P.-lounge is, would you?" Talk about a lame come-back…

"There you are, Ginny!" Katie appeared in the corridor. "Come, we have to go before you bump into Harry and ruin the surprise. Can you imagine the look on his face?" She looked up to Kaylee. "Oh, hello Kaylee. How's Steve? Is he fit to play or are they going to keep him out of the match so he'll be up to play next time?"

"My brother is fine," she said, her voice so cold it could have frozen us all to our spots. "Excuse me, I have to meet the rest of the families."

"Ignore her," Katie muttered once Kaylee was out of sight. "She's tried to get her hands on every man on the team. Her brother's okay, though. It really is a shame if he doesn't play today…"

Remembering that it was that same brother that had bumped into me half-naked a few weeks earlier, I looked at her sceptically but said nothing. Together we walked to the V.I.P.-lounge where Catriona McCormack greeted us merrily, as at the other end of the room, Kaylee was shooting me disdainful looks. I ignored them the moment Ron and Hermione stepped into the room.

"Mrs Weasley!" I exclaimed, feigning shock. "What on earth are you doing here? Surely you're not enjoying the art that is Quidditch!"

"Hello Ginny," Hermione smiled.

"Ginny?" Ron turned his head. "But practice! Harry told us you couldn't make it!"

"Well, apparently, I could," I answered.

"Ah, I see," Ron grinned. "You've decided to turn your back on Gwenog after all the bugging she's been doing. Smart move, sis, smart move."

I rolled my eyes, gave him a playful shove and turned back to Katie when a voice boomed through the lounge, announcing the beginning of the match. The Italian team flew out on the pitch, soon followed by the English team.

"Wood's playing?" I turned to Katie incredulously. She beamed and turned back to the game. "Meaghan got injured by the same Bludger that got to Steve."

A fierce whistle sounded and they were off.

"Pazi is off with the Quaffle," It was custom to translate the commentary in the V.I.P.-lounges to the original language and I couldn't be more grateful. My Italian was about as good as my French… "A quick pass to Furlan and she's off to Wood. Oh! Look at that magnificent manoeuvre from Trista Hodges! Italy doesn't know what hit them! A very nicely executed pass to Deforest and he shoots back to her with a good…YES! Ten to nil for England!"

Below us, Rachel could be heard cheering loudly for her sister and I couldn't help but laugh.

"And look at Potter go!" the commentator exclaimed suddenly. "Dare I say…could it be…the Snitch?"

Everybody turned to see what Harry was doing when suddenly, before I realized it, Harry was kissing me. So much for not letting the wizarding world know we got back together!

Next to me, Katie was laughing really hard, Hermione was trying to hide a smile and Ron was looking away in what he clearly thought was an inconspicuous way.

"You came," Harry beamed.

"Of course," I smiled.

Somewhere underneath us, an angry voice boomed upwards, "Potter! This is a match! Get your head back in the game and stop fooling around with that girlfriend of yours!"

"Griffiths…" Harry sighed.

I felt the blood leave my face. "You should go back before she comes up to get you."

A laugh erupted out of Harry's mouth and after a small peck he flew back into the game.

"…really a catch!" the commentator continued. "That's Miss Ginevra Weasley, gente! Seeker for the Holyhead Harpies and current girlfriend of the boy who lived."

I groaned while Katie burst out in laughter again and Hermione really wasn't able to keep the grin from her face. Ron looked offended for some reason.

"That's a foul!" Ron exclaimed next to me. The match had been going on for five hours already and the score was two-hundred-and-forty to a hundred-and-ninety for Italy and the Snitch had showed itself sixteen times. Sixteen bloody times and neither Harry nor Serafina Bianchi had even gotten close to catching the Snitch. Every time they set off in a chase, a Bludger followed them (shot at them by either Steve (yes, he was playing) or Kathryn Parish or one of the Italian Beaters). And every time it resulted in them breaking apart and off the chase in order to avoid getting chucked off their brooms.

"Oh come on!" Ron continued heatedly to Hermione, "That was such an obvious display of Blatching! You saw it, didn't you?"

Hermione put one hand on Ron's arm and smiled, "Yes Ron, I did."

But he was right. Pietro Pazi had been flying full speed right behind Odilia Furlan (who was trying to score) towards Wood in order to knock him off his broom. And by the looks of it, he had succeeded too.

A mediwizard had rushed up there to see to Wood, who was shaking his head furiously. Whether this meant he was all right or not was impossible to see.

Katie snorted. "He wants to stay up in the air! Can you believe it? The fool!"

And indeed… "It looks as though Pazi has done more damage than we thought!" The commentator said. "The mediwizard wants Wood out of the game but…he refuses?"

I couldn't help but laugh and noticed that even Katie was sniggering.

"The mediwizard is talking to the referee," the commentator continued. "It looks as if he's trying to get Wood banned for a few games. Oh, Wood is going down and Rachel Hodges is preparing to take his place. This will be her first international game as Meaghan McCormack has always filled first position. The few moments she couldn't play, Oliver Wood took her place. But with both established international Keepers out of the running, Hodges will have a chance to prove she's gotten on the team for a reason and not, as speculation is running high, because her sister has been on the team the last decade."

Rachel was looking as if the world was at her feet and took her position in front of the goal hoops.

"And the Quaffle is back in the game as Cobley takes a penalty for England in response to Pazi's Blatching. There's the whistle and the score's up to two hundred for England to two-hundred-and-forty for Italy! And the game's back on."

Italy reacted immediately with a quick attack to surprise Rachel. But the Broadmoor brothers hadn't chosen Rachel because she just looked nice. Without hesitation she flipped at the last moment towards the Quaffle and caught it.

"She caught it!" the commentator said, sounding heavily impressed. "And she throws the Quaffle back to her sis…wait, what is Potter doing? It looks…no, he is not feinting and Bianchi has hesitated to follow him! She is racing after him and look at Caruso and Oriolo! They're trying to get to the Bludgers. Oh no! Potter is getting closer. No! He's caught the Snitch! Italy is out of the running as his catch makes the score go from two hundred to two-hundred-and-forty up to three-hundred-and-fifty to two-hundred-and-forty. England beats Italy out of the running for the World Cup with a difference of a hundred-and-ten points."

Ron was twirling Hermione around and Katie and I were hugging each other happily. They'd won! They were through to the quarterfinals!

"I'm going to find Harry!" I beamed at her. "I have to congratulate him. That was some awesome play!" I looked at my brother and sister-in-law, wondering whether I should ask them to come too. But Ron was far too engrossed in celebrating with Hermione in a way that would scar me forever if I didn't leave soon.

"I'll go with you," Katie laughed, pulling me with her towards the locker rooms. Celebration was running high, and the closer we got to the team the more people were partying.

"Katie!" one of the reserve beaters beckoned her towards the other side of the corridor.

"Come," she nodded, moving towards him.

"Gin!" Harry was running towards me and engulfed me in a hug before I could even realize it. He kissed me and beamed as we broke apart. "You are the most stubborn woman I've ever met."

"I know," I stated smugly. "Although I won't be allowed to play the first part of the next match…"

"Gin…" Harry started, but I was faster.

"It doesn't matter," I smiled. "You won." And then I remembered what I'd heard before the match… "I heard what you said to Steve's sister…" I said softly.

Harry rolled his eyes. "She reminds me of Romilda Vane."

I started to laugh and hugged Harry happily. "I knew there was a reason why I fell in love with you!" I sniggered. "Romilda Vane…"

"I swear!" Harry exclaimed, taking my hand and walking towards the exit and straight to where Ron and Hermione would be waiting. "I don't know what or who to trust anymore! For all we know she might be spiking Chocolate Cauldrons with love potions! It wouldn't surprise me if those two are exchanging tactics as a part of some kind of…I dunno…Romilda Vane Conspiracy!"

"Harry?"

"Hmm?"

"Shut it."

A/N: dances a happy dance