The first thing she thinks when she opens up the sealed envelope is this is going to change everything. Which is very dramatic, but not exactly inaccurate. She can't seem to get the parchment out of the envelope, despite her best efforts; her hands are shaking, and she thinks maybe she's forgotten how to use them.
"Do you want me to open it for you?" Harry asks. He sounds amused.
Ginny can't bring herself to speak, not really, but she nods and hands him the envelope.
Harry takes the parchment out of the letter, and then offers it to Ginny to unfold. She shakes her head mutely. "You do it," she decides. "Just—tell me what it says."
"Okay," Harry agrees.
Ginny closes her eyes as he opens it up, forces herself to take a deep breath.
"Gin," Harry says after a second.
She opens her eyes and looks at him. He looks almost wild in his happiness.
"What does it say?" she asks tentatively.
"You did it," he tells her quietly. "You're on the team."
Ginny whoops, and then throws herself into his arms. For once, she doesn't care who hears her, who's listening, if anyone can see them. She doesn't care about anything at all.
"I'm on the team?" she squeals, wrapping her arms around his neck. She feels his arms go around her waist. She buries her face in his shoulder, allows herself to let out a small sob. She doesn't know why she's crying. She's just so happy, so fucking happy that she can't believe it. This has been her dream for as long as she remembers, and it's happening now. It's all happening.
"I'm so proud of you," Harry says quietly. His hand rests on her back, holding her close, and she feels like she could drift away in her happiness. Nothing feels real, nothing except him and his hold on her.
"I love you," she tells him when she pulls back, wiping her eyes.
"I know," Harry says, "I love you too. That's nothing to cry about, though," he teases.
"Shut up, Potter," she says on instinct.
"Suppose you don't have to worry too much about studying for the NEWTs, now, do you? Ginny Weasley, chaser for the Holyhead Harpies," Harry says.
Ginny laughs at that. "Merlin. I can't believe it," she says, quieter than before.
"I can," Harry says. He's looking at her with the kind of intensity and seriousness that makes her cheeks feel a bit warm. "I always knew you'd get in. I told you."
"You did tell me," she agrees.
"You deserve this," he tells her. He brings his hand up, strokes her hair off her face in a tender gesture that makes her feel even more emotional.
She doesn't know what to say. Her heart feels full with the kind of joy that, if you would have asked her a year ago, she would've said wasn't possible to feel anymore. She looks up at Harry, and he looks at her in the way that he has, the way that makes her feel like he knows just what's on her mind without her having to say it.
"I'm going to be on the team," she says, and her voice sounds odd to her own ears. Choked up.
"You are," Harry agrees.
And then, without thinking about what she's doing, without really thinking at all, she's leaning up and kissing him, letting her eyes fall shut. He kisses her back, with just as much enthusiasm as she, and then she finds it quite difficult to think about anything else at all.
That evening, she makes her way through the castle, towards Gryffindor Tower. Harry's gone to join Ron and Neville and Padma for Auror test revision, and Hermione's in the library, so she's decided to go back to the common room. She needs to study, of course, but she also needs to figure out how she can tell everyone her news.
"Just come out with it and tell them," Harry had said, earlier, when they were walking back to lunch. "They'll be happy for you, Gin."
That's all well and good, but she's spent so long working towards getting on the team, and hoping for it, and doing everything in her power to achieve it, that she hasn't actually thought about what she'll do after it happens. She feels almost like she did when they won the House Cup just before the Easter holidays; happy, but also oddly nervous about what comes next.
"Miss Weasley?"
Her thoughts are interrupted by a stern voice. She jumps a little and turns to look in the direction of it. Professor McGonagall's standing at the base of a staircase that Ginny knows from experience leads to the Headmaster's office – or, rather, the Headmistress' office now.
"Hi, Professor. You scared me," she admits.
McGonagall's face softens at that, and she gives Ginny a smile. "I was wondering if I might have a word with you," she says.
"Of course," Ginny says, and follows McGonagall up the staircase. She's still preoccupied by everything, so she can't help it when her words slip out. "It's still weird that Dumbledore isn't here, isn't it?" she muses, and then regrets her words immediately.
To her surprise, McGonagall turns and offers her another smile before she goes to sit behind her desk. "I often find myself thinking that, too," she says. "Have a seat, Miss Weasley."
Behind McGonagall's chair, Dumbledore's portrait self is fast asleep. Ginny sits down, trying not to look at Dumbledore too closely. She can't always prevent the rush of memories that sometimes accosts her, and she's determined to try and put it off today.
"Have a biscuit," McGonagall says, pushing a tin towards her.
Ginny takes a biscuit out, takes a bite of it, and then says, "Is this a new flavour, Professor?"
McGonagall looks amused. "Indeed," she says, "Chocolate biscuits from Honeydukes. A Christmas present from Madam Rosmerta."
"I like them," Ginny offers, helping herself to another.
"I'm glad you do, Miss Weasley," McGonagall says. "But that isn't why I wanted to speak with you."
Ginny nods, swallows her mouthful of biscuits. "Is everything alright, Professor?" she asks, suddenly worried. What if something's wrong with her family? Harry and Ron and Hermione are here with her, at Hogwarts, but what if something happened to her mum, or her dad's injured again, or something happened with Bill and the baby…
"Yes, of course," McGonagall says. Ginny wonders if her instinctive response whenever anyone wants to talk to her will ever stop being panic and fear. "However," McGonagall continues, "I received a letter this morning."
Ginny waits, leans forwards in her seat. McGonagall really does know how to build up the suspense, doesn't she? "From who, Professor?" she asks, trying very hard not to be impatient.
"From Gwenog Jones," McGonagall says. "She wrote to inform me that letters with the outcome of who made it to the team had been mailed out."
"Oh," Ginny says.
"Now, I do not know if you have received yours yet," McGonagall says.
"I have," Ginny says. She can feel a smile spread onto her face. She takes the letter out, from the inner pocket of her robes, and passes it to McGonagall. Apart from Harry, McGonagall's the first person she actually spoke to about this, the first person to tell her about the try-outs. She deserves to know.
McGonagall unfolds the parchment and reads it. Her eyes widen behind her square spectacles, and when she glances back up at Ginny, she seems to be tearing up a little. If Ginny hadn't been seeing this with her own eyes, she wouldn't have believed it.
"I believe then, Miss Weasley, that congratulations are in order," she says. She sounds choked up. "I am… I am very proud of you."
Ginny beams at McGonagall and gets to her feet. She wonders if she should ask first, but then doesn't think about it anymore before she's making her way to McGonagall's side of the desk and wrapping her arms around her in a hug. "Thanks, Professor," she says quietly. She's thanking her for more than the congratulations, and she hopes it comes across, because she doesn't know how to say it in any other way.
McGonagall pats her back clumsily and when Ginny pulls back from the hug, she sees a tear leak down her cheek. McGonagall wipes it away quickly, and then says, "This doesn't mean that you can get away with getting any less than an Outstanding in your Transfiguration NEWT, Miss Weasley."
"I wouldn't dream of it, Professor," Ginny tells McGonagall, grinning.
"Very well, then," McGonagall says. "I won't keep you from your celebrations any longer. I am sure that your friends have planned something." Her eyes are twinkling in a way that reminds Ginny of Dumbledore, oddly enough.
"I haven't actually told them yet," Ginny admits. "I mean, I've told Harry, but not the others."
"I would suggest that you do so, Ginny," McGonagall says gently. "After all, it has not been quite long enough that we've forgotten the value of good news."
When she gets back to the common room much later, she spots Harry and Ron immediately, sitting with Hermione by the fireplace. Luna's there, too, holding a cup of something.
Ginny smiles, and makes her way over to them. "Hi," she says cheerfully, sitting herself down next to Luna, on the floor by the fireplace. It's warm and cosy.
Harry looks up at Ginny and gives her a small smile. Ron waves a hand in greeting.
"Where have you been?" Hermione asks. "I thought you'd be out by the Lake, but I couldn't find you."
"I was talking to McGonagall," Ginny says. "And then I went for a walk outside. Needed a bit of fresh air."
"More fresh air? Haven't you been out with Harry all day?" Ron says.
"Talking to McGonagall about what? Is it something about the Transfiguration NEWT?" Hermione asks, looking worried.
"I expect we'd all know if it was," Luna says, surprisingly logical. "Would you like some hot chocolate, Ginny?" she adds, offering her mug to Ginny.
"Yes, please," Ginny says, taking the mug and having a sip of it. "It wasn't about the NEWT, Hermione," she adds.
"What was it, then?" Hermione says. Her eyes are narrowed in the way that they get when trying to solve a particularly intricate puzzle.
"Well, I imagine she wanted to give McGonagall the good news," Luna says.
Harry and Ginny both turn to look at Luna, and Ginny raises her eyebrows. She supposes she shouldn't be surprised that Luna's figured it out. She was the one who gave them the envelope this morning, after all. It isn't that much of a stretch that she's worked out what the letter was about, what with the Harpies seal on the back. Ginny forgets, sometimes, that Luna's smarter than most people.
"The good news?" Ron repeats, looking more confused than ever.
"Tell them, Gin," Harry urges. His eyes are bright, happy the way they'd been when he opened the letter for her.
"Wait. So you know what it is?" Ron demands.
"Of course he does," Hermione says.
"Not like I'm your brother or something," Ron grumbles.
"Ron, you know it's different, they—" Hermione starts to say.
Ginny interrupts. She has to, or this can go on all day. "I got on the Harpies. I'm on the team. Chaser for the Harpies, starting this August," she says.
Hermione stops abruptly and gasps. Ron's eyes go wide. Harry's grinning widely. Only Luna looks tranquil and unsurprised, but she's smiling, too.
Ron lunges out of his armchair, throws his arm around her in a hug that suddenly makes it hard to breathe. "You got on the team!" he whoops.
"Ron!" Ginny protests, but she's laughing even as Ron lets her go.
"Oh, Ginny, this is great!" Hermione, for all her earlier protests, looks just as happy as the others.
"It's very good news," Luna agrees.
"How did you not tell us all day?" Ron demands from Harry.
"It's not my news," Harry protests.
"You're going to be on the team," Ron says, still looking shell-shocked and pleased. "Wait. So that means you'll play against the Cannons now? Who am I meant to support?"
Ginny looks at Ron, unimpressed, but then joins in with Harry's laughter, feeling a wave of fondness engulf her. Sitting here, surrounded by her brother, boyfriend, and best friends, she feels like she can take on the world, like anything is possible. She turns to look at Harry, and ignores Ron's groan as she leans in and kiss him.
"Think you're ready to move to Holyhead with me, Potter?" she asks him, quiet enough so just he can hear. They've talked about this before, but it all feels real now, in a way that it didn't before. It occurs to her that the future, her future, is a matter of a few months away, and not some distant point in the blurry horizon.
"I reckon so, yeah," Harry whispers back, giving her a secret little smile before pulling away.
She returns his smile with one of her own, and pulls back, leaning into his side as she joins in the others' conversation again, happier than she can remember being in a long time.