A/N: I have some Valentine's plans that ended up needing to happen on Saturday, so you get an early update! Hooray!
Cramming. That was the only thing Harry could describe this as - cramming before an exam. It was Thursday night, and he and Ginny were pouring over all of the articles they could find about how the Harpies were playing this year. They were going to go to bed in an hour, so they could be fully rested but until then they sat on his couch reading and making notes about how most of the Quidditch journalists felt about how the team was playing, where their strengths were, and what weaknesses they had.
Harry ran a tired hand over his face and sighed as he realized his eyes had read the last paragraph but his brain had not. This was awful. He stood and moved to the kitchenette for a glass of water. He leaned against the counter and drank deeply before simply sliding down onto the floor, pressing his back and head into the cupboard.
"Must be nice," Ginny said pulling Harry from his rather dead state of mind, "to feel so confident that you don't need to do this anymore."
Harry glared at her. "You know I don't feel that way. I'm giving my brain a moment is all."
"Well, some of us don't have a moment," Ginny shot back.
"What the hell is your problem?" A voice in the back of Harry's mind told him they were both exhausted, and they should probably not be having this conversation in the state they were both in, but it was too late.
"My problem?" Ginny glared at him, "My only problem is seeing you give up before we've even started playing the match!"
"I have not given up!" Harry felt his blood boil at the comment. "You really think a few seconds of me breathing is going to decide the match tomorrow? Be real Gin!"
"At least I'm doing something!" She slammed the magazine down on the coffee table.
"Sure," Harry rolled his eyes, "because fighting with me is so helpful to our preparations."
"Fuck off, Potter," Ginny turned back to her magazine and Harry glared at her.
What the hell was going on? Why was she lashing out at him? What did he do? Harry pushed himself up off the floor and set his glass down on the counter before approaching his obviously fuming girlfriend.
"No."
"No, what?" Ginny didn't even look up at him.
"No, I'm not going to fuck off." He sat next to her on the couch and pulled his wand, sending the small stack of magazines and newspapers flying over to his nightstand, including the one in Gin's hand.
"Are you determined to have us lose?" Ginny stood to retrieve her magazine but Harry grabbed her arm.
"No, I'm determined to make sure we can actually play the fucking match tomorrow. So if you really care about beating the Harpies then let's fix this so we aren't spending the entire match working against each other!"
Ginny glared at him but sat down. "Fine, Dr. Potter, tell me what's what."
Harry shook his head, "Just tell me what's wrong."
"Nothing's wrong," Ginny shook her head.
"Bollocks," Harry snorted. "What the hell is going on Gin?"
"Are you that dense?" Ginny nearly screeched at him. "This isn't just my first time playing a real match like it is for you. This is the first time I'm playing the Harpies! Remember? That team that I spent my whole childhood wanting to play on and then they told me 'no' and they'd only paid me any attention because Gordon pestered them into it." Ginny gave a humorless laugh.
Harry hung his head, "I'm sorry, Gin. I know it killed you to have to settle with us."
Ginny froze, "What the hell are you on about?"
"You're unhappy here," the words killed him.
Ginny hung her head in her hands and groaned, "Merlin, Harry! That's not it at all!"
Harry felt the exhaustion clouding his ability to think this through, "Then explain it Gin because we've spent the last week trying to be ready for this stupid match tomorrow and I'm worn to the bone over it."
Harry could hear the same weariness in her voice that he felt.
"First let's make one thing very clear, I am not unhappy. I love our team. But that doesn't mean I don't want to prove something. We're not just playing the Harpies second-string team, we're playing the actual team, the team where I know every player's name, and I want to show them exactly what they gave up on, show them that they're idiots for refusing to take on rookies." Ginny shook her head, "And that won't happen if we lose tomorrow."
Harry stared at his girlfriend; she felt like she had something to prove, and she was determined to prove it on her own.
"Gin," Harry paused thinking how he wanted to phrase this, "does the Seeker win every match?"
Ginny looked over at him like he was speaking a foreign language. "What?"
"When a team wins a match, is it the Seeker who won?"
Ginny shook her head, "Of course not."
"The Keeper then?"
"Harry," Ginny groaned.
"The Chasers?"
"No one player wins a match," Ginny sighed.
"Right," Harry reached across the couch and put a hand on Ginny's back, "and by that same logic, you can't win the match on your own tomorrow. You won't prove anything if we win because you won't be the reason we win."
Ginny swallowed hard and Harry quickly pulled her into him as he saw the threatening tears standing in her eyes.
"Gin," he pressed his lips to her head as she pulled in a shuddering breath. "I'm not saying you can't prove something to them tomorrow. I'm just saying to focus on what you can really show - your own skills and abilities. Show them how well you work in a trio you've only spent the last five days training with. Show them how well you fair against a first-string goalie. Show them how much you've improved in five months of professional training. But don't kill yourself over something like winning the match."
Harry felt Gin's tears on his t-shirt and he squeezed his arms tightly around her, wishing desperately he could take this all away. That he could somehow make all of this easier on her, and still the tears that were falling off her cheeks.
It took a few moments, but Ginny's tears subsided and her breaths became even again. "Thank you," she sighed, "I needed to hear that."
"I always want to help love," Harry brushed her hair from her face. "Come on," he pulled them to standing and led them over to his bed, "Let's get some sleep."
Ginny grabbed a tissue from the little side table before climbing onto his bed, Harry directly behind her.
"I love you, you know that right?" She smiled up at him as she burrowed into his arms.
Harry couldn't help himself. He dropped his lips to hers and kissed her, running his hands under her t-shirt and up her stomach.
"I love you too," he murmured into her ear when his lips traveled that way.
"Are you really that tired?" She ran a teasing finger just below the waist of his track pants.
"I think I have enough energy to be up a little while longer," Harry growled, pulling her over him.
Ginny smirked against him, "Me too."