Title: An Oliver & Ginny Affair
Rating: PG (mild language)
Pairings: Oliver/Ginny & others
A/N: Oooo I just love the O/G pairing! There are not at all enough fics with them out there!! Anyway please make my day and review! ~Cheers, Rain
centerb*-An Oliver and Ginny Affair-* IPart One: Flames Fly By/I/b Chapter One /center
I Poland, July, 2003/I
"WELCOME, ladies and gentlemen to the Ifour hundred and twenty-fourth/I Quidditch World Cup Final!" The crowd of spectators cheered the living daylights out of their lungs. "Poland versus England!"
Ginny Weasley smiled slightly, and leaned back in her seat. It would be a long night. She had to admit, that Quid ditch Iwas/I fascinating, but, only for so long. After the first hour or two it would begin to lag and lull Ginny to complete boredom. She sighed, thinking about how she would rather be at home be at home doing..well, nothing, she supposed. If she were home, she would probably be sitting in her overstuffed leather chair reading or perhaps going for an evening stroll. Ever since leaving Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, it seemed all her friends had gone off and gotten married, and settled in some warm loving home getting the daylights snogged out of them on a daily basis, while she..sat at home. Alone. Being here tonight wasn't too bad, she supposed.
IAfter all,/I she reminded herself, IIt pays the bills and keeps food on the table./I
Ginny worked for the IDaily Prophet,/I a Wizard newspaper based out of Hogsmeade, Scotland. She was the senior journalist, having first taken a job there back in 1999, immediately after finishing school.
Ginny would have easily given up covering the Quidditch World Cup to some other reporter, but her boss had insisted she take it. According to him, she was the best he had, and only the best could be allowed to report the biggest event of the year. She might as well make herself comfortable.
~~~~~
Down in the visiting team's locker rooms, the Puddlemere United gathered around their captain, Oliver Wood. Oliver easily held the title of world's best Keeper.
"Team, I'm proud of you," began Oliver. Over the years Oliver had lightened up a bit when it came to giving pre-game pep talks, but he still was as competitive as ever on the pitch. "This is one of the best teams I have ever seen."
"You always say that, Captain!" Chance Fenton said good-naturedly.
"I mean it every time, especially this time. I honestly have never seen a better team since my last year at Hogwarts. No other team has ever been better than the Gryffindor team of '93-'94, until now." honesty filled Oliver's voice.
The team seemed stunned to silence by this, not that their reaction was surprising. For the past three years that they had been teammates, Oliver had talked constantly of his days playing for Gryffindor, and the excellence the team had possessed. Oliver had put that team on a pedestal, nearly worshiping its memory.
"Ahem." Oliver cleared his voice nervously. Fenton took a step forward, sticking his hand out. The other seven players, including Oliver, placed their hands around in a circle, one on top another.
"Let's win this. For us, for England, and Oliver's Gryffindors," Chance said. Everyone nodded in agreement, and Oliver's eyes shone brightly. He was extremely touched.
Over the cheering voices of millions of fans, the announcer's voiced boomed,
"Let me give you..England!" The team sprang apart and each grabbed his broomstick, all waiting for their names to be called.
"Courtland, Fenton, Kenley, Patterson, Ryder, Thane, and.Wood!"
Each member of United kicked off and flew into the stadium when his (or her) name was called, and they flew a lap around, waving to the fans, before landing to one side of the referee. The crowd was still wild with excitement, cheering and whistling with all its might.
"And now, let me present to you.Poland!" If one had thought the cheering was loud for England, then Poland's cheering was deafening. However, that was unsurprising, as they were in Poland after all.
"Bazyli, Buczkowski, Ewertowski, Flawiusz, Szczepan, Voight, and..Zyskowski!"
The Polish team did not one, but two laps around before finally landing on the side of the referee that was opposite the English team.
"Captains, shake hands." Wood and Ewertowski strode forward, gripping each other's hands tightly. After a stiff handshake they each walked back to their respective teams.
The Polish Gridzisk Goblins and the British Puddlemere United each straddled their brooms, waiting with bated breath for the referee to blow the whistle and get the game started.
~~~~~
Ginny's Quick-Quotes Quill, or as she liked to call it; the Triple Q, was eagerly brushing back and forth over a notepad, jotting down the players' names and the reaction of the crowd.
Ginny herself had her own notebook flipped open, and an Eagle feather quill in hand. She liked writing down her own notes and comparing them to that of the Triple Q. Not to mention it gave her a slight distraction.
Ginny took in the beautiful navy blue robes of the Puddlemere United, an emblem of two golden, crossed, bulrushes printed on the back. She noted absently that Oliver Wood was looking good. He looked far better now than she remembered ten years ago. That was perhaps due to the fact that she had only been twelve at the time and had had such a big crush on Harry Potter that she wouldn't have noticed any other boy had he walked in front of her wearing nothing but a smile.
Ginny's mind suddenly was diverted from the players; she wondered where Ron and Harry were. She had gotten them tickets to the journalist box and was surprised they weren't there yet. It wasn't like them to be late to anything related to Quidditch.
Then again, they had families now. Well, okay, so Harry didn't.yet. But Ron certainly did.
"Hello, Ginny," came a soft-spoken voice behind her. Ginny turned around, expecting to see one of the boys, but instead saw Graham Pritchard.
"Oh, Graham..what a surprise.." Ginny greeted him, somewhat nervously. She really hoped he would not bring..Ianything/I..up.
"That seat taken?" he asked, pointing to the one on her left.
"Well, err..I sort of, kind of."
"Oh, never mind, Ginny." There was a slight hint of disappointment in his voice that made Ginny twinge in discomfort.
"Its not that I don't want you to sit there."
IThat's not exactly a lie./I she told herself. IOh alright, it was an outright lie! But I /IdidI save these seats for Ron, Harry, and their families. /I
"No, really, it's okay, Ginny. I understand. I wouldn't want to sit next to me either." Ginny hated when he did this. He always tried to make her feel guilty. She couldn't blame him totally though; his parents had constantly done that to him while he was growing up.
"Graham, really, it's just that I already saved these seats for someone else."
"Someone else?" Graham sounded crushed.
"Ron and his family."
"Oh!" Graham brightened considerably upon realizing that the 'someone else' Ginny had referred to was not a romantic someone. "Gin, do you think.could we maybe.go out for dinner after the game?"
Ginny sighed with relief; she already had plans for the evening.
"Can't, sorry. I've already got a dinner-interview with the United scheduled." Under her breath she added, "If the game even ends tonight."
"Oh, well alright. So.I'll see you around sometime, then?" Ginny nodded, and was relieved to see his retreating back.
"Aunt Gin Gin!" squealed a high-pitched, excited voice. Ginny swivelled in her seat and her face lit up with joy.
She stood up and spread her arms forward, catching the little girl as she jumped into Ginny's arms. Ginny hugged her tightly, then tickled her. The girl's laughter delighted Ginny.
"How's my favourite little niece today?" The little girl's dark brown head bobbed up and down.
"Hey, Gin, how is Imy/I favourite sister?" Ginny looked up into the smiling blue eyes of Ronald Weasley.
"I'm doing pretty well, Ron and you?" Ron stepped forward and the girl climbed into his arms.
"Tired." he grinned. Ginny laughed. A young, slender woman with a long face and porcelain-coloured skin walked up to them, placing a hand on Ron's shoulder and the other in her honey-blonde hair.
"Sarah," Ginny nodded at her sister-in-law. Five-year-old Gail wiggled out of Ron's arms and once again returned to Ginny.
Ginny was amazed still at the fact that Gail was not a Weasley by blood. Although she had dark brown hair, which she had presumably gotten from her father, her blue eyes were the same shade as Ron's, and she got into so much mischief that everyone was reminded of the twins, Fred and George.
Ginny would be kidding herself is she said she had never wondered who Gail's father was. All Ron had told them was that Gail was Sarah's from a previous relationship. Ginny firmly believed that there had been Ispecial/I circumstances surrounding it, but never had the heart to ask about such a delicate subject.
"Where's Asa?" Ginny asked about Ron and Sarah's eight-month-old son.
"Hermione's hoarding him again." Ron said in mock disgust. Ginny grinned, and sure enough, moments later Hermione appeared with a small bundle snuggled securely in her arms.
"You know, Hermione, you would make the perfect little mother," commented Ginny. Hermione's face turned beet red. "You just need to get yourself married."
Hermione laughed nervously. "I'll.uh, keep that in mind."
"Going to be an old maid?" Ron teased. Hermione playfully hit him on the arm.
"What's the score, mates?" came a new voice; one that was distinctively Harry's.
"You're just in time," Ginny began, pointing to the Quidditch pitch where Oliver Wood and Ewertowski stood with their hands grip-locked. The two captains turned loose of each other, walking back to their teams. Just moments later a whistle blew shrilly through the air.
~~~~~
As soon as the whistle reached Oliver's ears he kicked up hard off the ground. With just a light touch of his fingers the broom reared into an abrupt left turn, heading straight for the goal posts.
Oliver watched keenly as Chance Fenton, a United chaser, flew down the field at an amazing speed, Quaffle tucked tightly under his arm.
Fenton was being flanked by Szczepan and Buckowski, two of the three Polish Chasers. Oliver watched happily as Fenton shot straight up, seemingly in an attempt to get away from the two. Before either of the Polish knew what was happening Fenton threw the Quaffle with a hard thrust downward, where it was caught by Faith-Leigh Courtland who had been specifically circling them below.
"Wow! What an excellent move by Fenton! What you just saw was the Porskoff Ploy, first made famous some years ago by the Russian chaser, Petrova Porskoff," boomed the announcer.
Courtland successfully passed off the Quaffle to Patterson, before being forced to swerve off course by a Bludger sent her way from Ewertowski.
"Patterson's way is cleared!" Indeed, the only thing standing in the way of his scoring was the Polish Keeper.
Randall Patterson shot like a bullet across the open field and yanked back on the handle of his broomstick just in time to slow down. Voight eyed him beadily, hands poised. Patterson smirked, then threw the Quaffle.
"Patterson going for the score! Can Voight---" but the announcer was stopped in mid-sentence; he was too late, as Patterson had put the Quaffle threw the middle hoop. "Patterson makes the first score of the game! 10-0 England!"
~~~~~
Ginny almost pressed her hands to her ears when England scored. Ron and Harry both seemed to be yelling in her ear, whooping with joy. Ginny shook her head, then gently set Gail down so that she could return to her writing.
Gail skipped over to Harry and tugged on the hem of his green robes.
"Uncle Harry!" she squealed. Harry didn't hear her above the roar of the crowd, and no doubt was too immersed in the game to notice the slight tug on his robes.
"Flawiusz throws the Quaffle! Can Keeper Wood get it? And no, Flawiusz's throw makes a score! Bringing the points to 10-10!"
The obscenities that Ron hissed at the Polish Chaser where so graphic that Sarah hit him on the arm and told him to shush, something she would not normally have done, and would not have save for the children being there. Sarah was the type to be shy and quiet, and not one to share her opinions.
"IRon!/I Really, was that necessary? Gail doesn't need to hear that kind of stuff, and especially not from her father." Ron dropped his head in smug defeat, then quickly grasped her wrists.
"You're right, love." Ron pulled her toward him, giving her a sound kiss on the mouth. Sarah broke it off quickly, stepping back fast, her face the same colour as Ron's hair.
"We're in public, Ron!" she announced. Sarah did not like public displays of affection, something that slightly irritated Ron, but he shrugged if off asking playfully,
"Ashamed of your own husband in public?" Sarah made a 'hrphm' sound and crossed her arms. "Oh, Sarah, I was only joking." Ron tried to be sensitive, he really did, but he sometimes had a hard time dealing with Sarah's deep-set insecurities. Ron reached out and pulled her into his arms, wrapping them around her. She didn't resist and instead laid her head against his chest.
"Ouch! That had to hurt!" roared the announcer. "United Beater Palmer Kenley just sent a Bludger hurling at Polish Seeker Aleksy Zyskowski who didn't see it in time! Poland calling a time-out, no doubt to check the state of their Seeker's left arm."
"Uncle Harry!" came Gail's voice again, this time more urgent. She tugged harder on his robes. Luckily, the crowd's cheering had subsided for the time-out and he heard her this time. Harry turned around and bent down, looking her straight in the eye,
"Hello, Gail. What can I do for you?" He winked at her. Gail giggled and reached her arms upward, signifying that she wanted him to pick her up. Harry did so and then took a seat next to Hermione.
Ginny couldn't help but feel a pang of loneliness wash over her at the sight of Ron and Sarah wrapped together. Harry and Hermione didn't help, either. They weren't touching in any way, (and as far as Ginny knew, they were not dating), but unbeknownst to them, they looked perfect sitting there together, side by side, each with a child in arm. Young Gail was clutching Harry around the neck; her brown hair could have easily mistaken her as Hermione's daughter. Hermione was holding a small baby boy that had awoken minutes ago. He had a full head of bright, flame-red hair that curled in cute little ringlets. Asa Weasley strongly reminded Ginny of her father's baby pictures.
Ginny abruptly turned back to the game, which had resumed just moments ago.
"Ryder looks as if she has seen the Snitch! Look at her go! Woah, wonderful barrel roll around that Bludger! Too bad it made her lose sight of the Snitch,"
~~~~~
Oliver sat comfortably on his broom, watching the other end of the field where Fenton was going for a score. He allowed his gaze to sweep over the crowd. Millions of unidentified faces swarmed before his eyes. Oliver looked over to his left, where a private box had been sectioned off. Snaps of light came from there, and Oliver figured it was the reporters. He turned his attention back to the game at hand.
".scores! England in the lead by 10!"
Oliver gave a thumbs-up to Fenton.
"Looks like the Polish Chasers are using the Hawkshead Attacking Formation!"
Oliver looked straight ahead and sure enough, they were. Szczepan had the Quaffle. Buczkowski flew to his left, the tip of his broomstick about even with Szczepan's ankle. Buczkowski flew about three inches away from Szczepan, and Flawiusz was in the same position, expect he was on Szczepan's right. The formation looked like an arrow. This technique was used for intimidation, as well as forcing other players apart.
Oliver grinned when he saw Kenley and Thane flying on either side of the two outside Polish Chasers, then they hit Bludgers simultaneously. Buczkowski and Flawiusz were forced to fall into a sharp dive to avoid them and Szczepan pulled up on his broom, causing him to shoot straight up in the air, but he dropped the Quaffle in his rush. Patterson took the Quaffle. Oliver's eyes were suddenly diverted when he saw the Snitch flying just below him. He tried frantically to think of a way to signal Ryder, but she was all the way on the other side of the field, with Zyskowski following closely at her heel.
"Has Zyskowski seen the snitch!?"
Zyskowski went into a speeding dive, straight toward the ground. Ryder followed. Oliver winced, knowing it was a fake; the snitch was still under his feet. Ryder realized the fake dive momentarily and pulled up fast; Zyskowski pulled up just inches above the ground.
"You just saw Zyskowski use the Wronski Feint! Poland's Seekers always specialize in this move! As we all know, it was first performed by former Polish Seeker Josef Wronski."
Ryder scanned the field, looking for the slight glimmer of gold. She looked at Oliver, and he winked. Ryder looked taken aback. Oliver, winking in a Quidditch match? And at her, no less? He winked again. Then again. Ryder had an idea. What if he was trying to say something to her? She casually began to fly over toward the goalposts he guarded. Zyskowski didn't think anything suspicious was going on and flew lazily behind her.
Seeing that she got the hint, Oliver turned his attention back to all the Chasers. Buczkowski had the Quaffle now. Just as Courtland was about to slam it out of his hands, a Bludger hit her smack in the leg, sent her way by Bazyli.
Buczkowski flew forward and Oliver knew he would try for a goal. Thinking quickly, he grabbed on tightly to the handle of his broomstick with his left hand and then proceeded to tightly wrap his left leg around the other end. Once he felt secure he dropped his right arm and leg and kept all his limbs outstretched. Buczkowski threw the Quaffle and it hit Oliver in the stomach; as it dropped he caught it with his right arm.
"What a spectacular performance of the Starfish and Stick, by England's keeper, Wood! Excellent save!"
Oliver heaved himself back up properly on his broom, then threw the Quaffle to Fenton.
~~~~~
Ginny stared drearily at the notepad in front of her. The Quidditch match had been going on for just under three hours, with the score now 210-190, with England in the lead. Sarah had left an hour ago, taking Gail and Asa with her. Hermione was sitting down contentedly with a book, occasionally watching the match; she had never been a big fan of Quidditch, at least not professional Quidditch. Harry and Ron were, unsurprisingly, standing on their feet nearly leaning over the rail and still cheering with zest for England. Ginny privately wondered how the Snitch could have eluded the Seekers for so long, she supposed she was just used to Harry's under-an- hour catches when he had played for Gryffindor during his school days.
"Ryder is plummeting to the ground at record speed!" yelled the commentator. Ginny perked up when she thought she saw a faint flicker of gold near the ground. She didn't stay too optimistic, though; the last time Ryder had gone after the Snitch, which had been practically under the feet of Oliver Wood, she had been hit in the back with a Bludger; not a pretty sight.
Ginny watched as the tiny and distant figure pulled up sharply before hitting the ground, than sped along just an inch away from the grass, straight across the field. She briefly wondered where the Polish Seeker was, but shrugged; she didn't care, she just wanted the game to be over.
"Zyskowski is racing across from the other side of the field, trying desperately to catch up to Ryder!"
The Snitch shot straight up in the air and doubled back the other way; Ryder followed it with a sharp turn around and soared up into the air, hot on its trail. The flutter of gold wings tried to flap harder but it was already pushing its speeds, and Ryder was just about in arms' length of it. Zyskowski now had a chance, since the Snitch was shooting in his direction; in fact, it seemed to be flying right at him. Ryder and Zyskowski both stretched their hands out, each barely half and inch from reaching the Snitch.
By now, even Hermione was interested enough to watch, and the crowd was silent; even the other players seemed to have halted, watching the unfolding drama with bated breath.
b-Smack!-/b Ryder and Zyskowski ran right into each other, the sound of flesh hitting flesh resounding throughout the arena. Both of them fell to the ground. Zyskowski was swearing in Polish, while Ryder held her hand up, allowing tiny wings to protrude between her fingers before they hit the ground with a load thud. After a moment of stunned silence the commentator yelled,
"Ryder has caught the Snitch! Puddlemere United has won the cup for England, winning with a grand total of 360 to 190!" A deafening sound of applause broke out; roaring cheers and whistling entwined as the England supporters danced with joy at the victory.
Although unhappy about the loss, the Poland supporters clapped; they were nationally recognized as having the best sportsmanship and were known to be very kind people.
Ginny gathered up all her stuff, waved a quick goodbye to Ron and Harry, then made a mad dash for the England locker rooms. She wasn't about to let them forget about the promised dinner interview.
~~~~~
Oliver had a huge grin plastered across his entire face. He was so happy he couldn't even say a word; he just grinned like a madman. Oliver swooped down on his broom, landing next to the fallen Seekers. He reached his hand out and Ryder thought he was going to help her up. No such luck. He took the winning Snitch from her hand.
"Oliver Wood! You be a gentleman and help me up right this minute!" Ryder crossed her arms, still laying on her back. True, the fall had been no picnic, but they had only been four feet above the ground and she was too happy with herself to pay any attention to the ache in her back.
Oliver grinned ruefully and would have bent over to offer his hand, but two Medi-Witches had rushed to Ryder's side. She scowled.
"Hurry up!" she complained. "I want to ride the victory lap!" One of the witches frowned at her, but mumbled a few well chosen words and then helped her up.
"Come on, hop on," Oliver said, pointing to the back of his broomstick. Ryder's had broken against the ground. She obliged and the two were soon in the air, where they quickly joined ranks with their teammates.
They flew several laps around, with Oliver holding up the hand that held the Snitch.
After finally landing they made their way to where Gerik Jedrek, the head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports for the Polish Ministry of Magic, stood holding the Cup, waiting it to award them.
---
A/N-2: In the next chapter Ginny meets up with Oliver and his Quidditch team.. Some interesting things happen involving Oliver and Seeker Ryder.
A/N: Oooo I just love the O/G pairing! There are not at all enough fics with them out there!! Anyway please make my day and review! ~Cheers, Rain
centerb*-An Oliver and Ginny Affair-* IPart One: Flames Fly By/I/b Chapter One /center
I Poland, July, 2003/I
"WELCOME, ladies and gentlemen to the Ifour hundred and twenty-fourth/I Quidditch World Cup Final!" The crowd of spectators cheered the living daylights out of their lungs. "Poland versus England!"
Ginny Weasley smiled slightly, and leaned back in her seat. It would be a long night. She had to admit, that Quid ditch Iwas/I fascinating, but, only for so long. After the first hour or two it would begin to lag and lull Ginny to complete boredom. She sighed, thinking about how she would rather be at home be at home doing..well, nothing, she supposed. If she were home, she would probably be sitting in her overstuffed leather chair reading or perhaps going for an evening stroll. Ever since leaving Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, it seemed all her friends had gone off and gotten married, and settled in some warm loving home getting the daylights snogged out of them on a daily basis, while she..sat at home. Alone. Being here tonight wasn't too bad, she supposed.
IAfter all,/I she reminded herself, IIt pays the bills and keeps food on the table./I
Ginny worked for the IDaily Prophet,/I a Wizard newspaper based out of Hogsmeade, Scotland. She was the senior journalist, having first taken a job there back in 1999, immediately after finishing school.
Ginny would have easily given up covering the Quidditch World Cup to some other reporter, but her boss had insisted she take it. According to him, she was the best he had, and only the best could be allowed to report the biggest event of the year. She might as well make herself comfortable.
~~~~~
Down in the visiting team's locker rooms, the Puddlemere United gathered around their captain, Oliver Wood. Oliver easily held the title of world's best Keeper.
"Team, I'm proud of you," began Oliver. Over the years Oliver had lightened up a bit when it came to giving pre-game pep talks, but he still was as competitive as ever on the pitch. "This is one of the best teams I have ever seen."
"You always say that, Captain!" Chance Fenton said good-naturedly.
"I mean it every time, especially this time. I honestly have never seen a better team since my last year at Hogwarts. No other team has ever been better than the Gryffindor team of '93-'94, until now." honesty filled Oliver's voice.
The team seemed stunned to silence by this, not that their reaction was surprising. For the past three years that they had been teammates, Oliver had talked constantly of his days playing for Gryffindor, and the excellence the team had possessed. Oliver had put that team on a pedestal, nearly worshiping its memory.
"Ahem." Oliver cleared his voice nervously. Fenton took a step forward, sticking his hand out. The other seven players, including Oliver, placed their hands around in a circle, one on top another.
"Let's win this. For us, for England, and Oliver's Gryffindors," Chance said. Everyone nodded in agreement, and Oliver's eyes shone brightly. He was extremely touched.
Over the cheering voices of millions of fans, the announcer's voiced boomed,
"Let me give you..England!" The team sprang apart and each grabbed his broomstick, all waiting for their names to be called.
"Courtland, Fenton, Kenley, Patterson, Ryder, Thane, and.Wood!"
Each member of United kicked off and flew into the stadium when his (or her) name was called, and they flew a lap around, waving to the fans, before landing to one side of the referee. The crowd was still wild with excitement, cheering and whistling with all its might.
"And now, let me present to you.Poland!" If one had thought the cheering was loud for England, then Poland's cheering was deafening. However, that was unsurprising, as they were in Poland after all.
"Bazyli, Buczkowski, Ewertowski, Flawiusz, Szczepan, Voight, and..Zyskowski!"
The Polish team did not one, but two laps around before finally landing on the side of the referee that was opposite the English team.
"Captains, shake hands." Wood and Ewertowski strode forward, gripping each other's hands tightly. After a stiff handshake they each walked back to their respective teams.
The Polish Gridzisk Goblins and the British Puddlemere United each straddled their brooms, waiting with bated breath for the referee to blow the whistle and get the game started.
~~~~~
Ginny's Quick-Quotes Quill, or as she liked to call it; the Triple Q, was eagerly brushing back and forth over a notepad, jotting down the players' names and the reaction of the crowd.
Ginny herself had her own notebook flipped open, and an Eagle feather quill in hand. She liked writing down her own notes and comparing them to that of the Triple Q. Not to mention it gave her a slight distraction.
Ginny took in the beautiful navy blue robes of the Puddlemere United, an emblem of two golden, crossed, bulrushes printed on the back. She noted absently that Oliver Wood was looking good. He looked far better now than she remembered ten years ago. That was perhaps due to the fact that she had only been twelve at the time and had had such a big crush on Harry Potter that she wouldn't have noticed any other boy had he walked in front of her wearing nothing but a smile.
Ginny's mind suddenly was diverted from the players; she wondered where Ron and Harry were. She had gotten them tickets to the journalist box and was surprised they weren't there yet. It wasn't like them to be late to anything related to Quidditch.
Then again, they had families now. Well, okay, so Harry didn't.yet. But Ron certainly did.
"Hello, Ginny," came a soft-spoken voice behind her. Ginny turned around, expecting to see one of the boys, but instead saw Graham Pritchard.
"Oh, Graham..what a surprise.." Ginny greeted him, somewhat nervously. She really hoped he would not bring..Ianything/I..up.
"That seat taken?" he asked, pointing to the one on her left.
"Well, err..I sort of, kind of."
"Oh, never mind, Ginny." There was a slight hint of disappointment in his voice that made Ginny twinge in discomfort.
"Its not that I don't want you to sit there."
IThat's not exactly a lie./I she told herself. IOh alright, it was an outright lie! But I /IdidI save these seats for Ron, Harry, and their families. /I
"No, really, it's okay, Ginny. I understand. I wouldn't want to sit next to me either." Ginny hated when he did this. He always tried to make her feel guilty. She couldn't blame him totally though; his parents had constantly done that to him while he was growing up.
"Graham, really, it's just that I already saved these seats for someone else."
"Someone else?" Graham sounded crushed.
"Ron and his family."
"Oh!" Graham brightened considerably upon realizing that the 'someone else' Ginny had referred to was not a romantic someone. "Gin, do you think.could we maybe.go out for dinner after the game?"
Ginny sighed with relief; she already had plans for the evening.
"Can't, sorry. I've already got a dinner-interview with the United scheduled." Under her breath she added, "If the game even ends tonight."
"Oh, well alright. So.I'll see you around sometime, then?" Ginny nodded, and was relieved to see his retreating back.
"Aunt Gin Gin!" squealed a high-pitched, excited voice. Ginny swivelled in her seat and her face lit up with joy.
She stood up and spread her arms forward, catching the little girl as she jumped into Ginny's arms. Ginny hugged her tightly, then tickled her. The girl's laughter delighted Ginny.
"How's my favourite little niece today?" The little girl's dark brown head bobbed up and down.
"Hey, Gin, how is Imy/I favourite sister?" Ginny looked up into the smiling blue eyes of Ronald Weasley.
"I'm doing pretty well, Ron and you?" Ron stepped forward and the girl climbed into his arms.
"Tired." he grinned. Ginny laughed. A young, slender woman with a long face and porcelain-coloured skin walked up to them, placing a hand on Ron's shoulder and the other in her honey-blonde hair.
"Sarah," Ginny nodded at her sister-in-law. Five-year-old Gail wiggled out of Ron's arms and once again returned to Ginny.
Ginny was amazed still at the fact that Gail was not a Weasley by blood. Although she had dark brown hair, which she had presumably gotten from her father, her blue eyes were the same shade as Ron's, and she got into so much mischief that everyone was reminded of the twins, Fred and George.
Ginny would be kidding herself is she said she had never wondered who Gail's father was. All Ron had told them was that Gail was Sarah's from a previous relationship. Ginny firmly believed that there had been Ispecial/I circumstances surrounding it, but never had the heart to ask about such a delicate subject.
"Where's Asa?" Ginny asked about Ron and Sarah's eight-month-old son.
"Hermione's hoarding him again." Ron said in mock disgust. Ginny grinned, and sure enough, moments later Hermione appeared with a small bundle snuggled securely in her arms.
"You know, Hermione, you would make the perfect little mother," commented Ginny. Hermione's face turned beet red. "You just need to get yourself married."
Hermione laughed nervously. "I'll.uh, keep that in mind."
"Going to be an old maid?" Ron teased. Hermione playfully hit him on the arm.
"What's the score, mates?" came a new voice; one that was distinctively Harry's.
"You're just in time," Ginny began, pointing to the Quidditch pitch where Oliver Wood and Ewertowski stood with their hands grip-locked. The two captains turned loose of each other, walking back to their teams. Just moments later a whistle blew shrilly through the air.
~~~~~
As soon as the whistle reached Oliver's ears he kicked up hard off the ground. With just a light touch of his fingers the broom reared into an abrupt left turn, heading straight for the goal posts.
Oliver watched keenly as Chance Fenton, a United chaser, flew down the field at an amazing speed, Quaffle tucked tightly under his arm.
Fenton was being flanked by Szczepan and Buckowski, two of the three Polish Chasers. Oliver watched happily as Fenton shot straight up, seemingly in an attempt to get away from the two. Before either of the Polish knew what was happening Fenton threw the Quaffle with a hard thrust downward, where it was caught by Faith-Leigh Courtland who had been specifically circling them below.
"Wow! What an excellent move by Fenton! What you just saw was the Porskoff Ploy, first made famous some years ago by the Russian chaser, Petrova Porskoff," boomed the announcer.
Courtland successfully passed off the Quaffle to Patterson, before being forced to swerve off course by a Bludger sent her way from Ewertowski.
"Patterson's way is cleared!" Indeed, the only thing standing in the way of his scoring was the Polish Keeper.
Randall Patterson shot like a bullet across the open field and yanked back on the handle of his broomstick just in time to slow down. Voight eyed him beadily, hands poised. Patterson smirked, then threw the Quaffle.
"Patterson going for the score! Can Voight---" but the announcer was stopped in mid-sentence; he was too late, as Patterson had put the Quaffle threw the middle hoop. "Patterson makes the first score of the game! 10-0 England!"
~~~~~
Ginny almost pressed her hands to her ears when England scored. Ron and Harry both seemed to be yelling in her ear, whooping with joy. Ginny shook her head, then gently set Gail down so that she could return to her writing.
Gail skipped over to Harry and tugged on the hem of his green robes.
"Uncle Harry!" she squealed. Harry didn't hear her above the roar of the crowd, and no doubt was too immersed in the game to notice the slight tug on his robes.
"Flawiusz throws the Quaffle! Can Keeper Wood get it? And no, Flawiusz's throw makes a score! Bringing the points to 10-10!"
The obscenities that Ron hissed at the Polish Chaser where so graphic that Sarah hit him on the arm and told him to shush, something she would not normally have done, and would not have save for the children being there. Sarah was the type to be shy and quiet, and not one to share her opinions.
"IRon!/I Really, was that necessary? Gail doesn't need to hear that kind of stuff, and especially not from her father." Ron dropped his head in smug defeat, then quickly grasped her wrists.
"You're right, love." Ron pulled her toward him, giving her a sound kiss on the mouth. Sarah broke it off quickly, stepping back fast, her face the same colour as Ron's hair.
"We're in public, Ron!" she announced. Sarah did not like public displays of affection, something that slightly irritated Ron, but he shrugged if off asking playfully,
"Ashamed of your own husband in public?" Sarah made a 'hrphm' sound and crossed her arms. "Oh, Sarah, I was only joking." Ron tried to be sensitive, he really did, but he sometimes had a hard time dealing with Sarah's deep-set insecurities. Ron reached out and pulled her into his arms, wrapping them around her. She didn't resist and instead laid her head against his chest.
"Ouch! That had to hurt!" roared the announcer. "United Beater Palmer Kenley just sent a Bludger hurling at Polish Seeker Aleksy Zyskowski who didn't see it in time! Poland calling a time-out, no doubt to check the state of their Seeker's left arm."
"Uncle Harry!" came Gail's voice again, this time more urgent. She tugged harder on his robes. Luckily, the crowd's cheering had subsided for the time-out and he heard her this time. Harry turned around and bent down, looking her straight in the eye,
"Hello, Gail. What can I do for you?" He winked at her. Gail giggled and reached her arms upward, signifying that she wanted him to pick her up. Harry did so and then took a seat next to Hermione.
Ginny couldn't help but feel a pang of loneliness wash over her at the sight of Ron and Sarah wrapped together. Harry and Hermione didn't help, either. They weren't touching in any way, (and as far as Ginny knew, they were not dating), but unbeknownst to them, they looked perfect sitting there together, side by side, each with a child in arm. Young Gail was clutching Harry around the neck; her brown hair could have easily mistaken her as Hermione's daughter. Hermione was holding a small baby boy that had awoken minutes ago. He had a full head of bright, flame-red hair that curled in cute little ringlets. Asa Weasley strongly reminded Ginny of her father's baby pictures.
Ginny abruptly turned back to the game, which had resumed just moments ago.
"Ryder looks as if she has seen the Snitch! Look at her go! Woah, wonderful barrel roll around that Bludger! Too bad it made her lose sight of the Snitch,"
~~~~~
Oliver sat comfortably on his broom, watching the other end of the field where Fenton was going for a score. He allowed his gaze to sweep over the crowd. Millions of unidentified faces swarmed before his eyes. Oliver looked over to his left, where a private box had been sectioned off. Snaps of light came from there, and Oliver figured it was the reporters. He turned his attention back to the game at hand.
".scores! England in the lead by 10!"
Oliver gave a thumbs-up to Fenton.
"Looks like the Polish Chasers are using the Hawkshead Attacking Formation!"
Oliver looked straight ahead and sure enough, they were. Szczepan had the Quaffle. Buczkowski flew to his left, the tip of his broomstick about even with Szczepan's ankle. Buczkowski flew about three inches away from Szczepan, and Flawiusz was in the same position, expect he was on Szczepan's right. The formation looked like an arrow. This technique was used for intimidation, as well as forcing other players apart.
Oliver grinned when he saw Kenley and Thane flying on either side of the two outside Polish Chasers, then they hit Bludgers simultaneously. Buczkowski and Flawiusz were forced to fall into a sharp dive to avoid them and Szczepan pulled up on his broom, causing him to shoot straight up in the air, but he dropped the Quaffle in his rush. Patterson took the Quaffle. Oliver's eyes were suddenly diverted when he saw the Snitch flying just below him. He tried frantically to think of a way to signal Ryder, but she was all the way on the other side of the field, with Zyskowski following closely at her heel.
"Has Zyskowski seen the snitch!?"
Zyskowski went into a speeding dive, straight toward the ground. Ryder followed. Oliver winced, knowing it was a fake; the snitch was still under his feet. Ryder realized the fake dive momentarily and pulled up fast; Zyskowski pulled up just inches above the ground.
"You just saw Zyskowski use the Wronski Feint! Poland's Seekers always specialize in this move! As we all know, it was first performed by former Polish Seeker Josef Wronski."
Ryder scanned the field, looking for the slight glimmer of gold. She looked at Oliver, and he winked. Ryder looked taken aback. Oliver, winking in a Quidditch match? And at her, no less? He winked again. Then again. Ryder had an idea. What if he was trying to say something to her? She casually began to fly over toward the goalposts he guarded. Zyskowski didn't think anything suspicious was going on and flew lazily behind her.
Seeing that she got the hint, Oliver turned his attention back to all the Chasers. Buczkowski had the Quaffle now. Just as Courtland was about to slam it out of his hands, a Bludger hit her smack in the leg, sent her way by Bazyli.
Buczkowski flew forward and Oliver knew he would try for a goal. Thinking quickly, he grabbed on tightly to the handle of his broomstick with his left hand and then proceeded to tightly wrap his left leg around the other end. Once he felt secure he dropped his right arm and leg and kept all his limbs outstretched. Buczkowski threw the Quaffle and it hit Oliver in the stomach; as it dropped he caught it with his right arm.
"What a spectacular performance of the Starfish and Stick, by England's keeper, Wood! Excellent save!"
Oliver heaved himself back up properly on his broom, then threw the Quaffle to Fenton.
~~~~~
Ginny stared drearily at the notepad in front of her. The Quidditch match had been going on for just under three hours, with the score now 210-190, with England in the lead. Sarah had left an hour ago, taking Gail and Asa with her. Hermione was sitting down contentedly with a book, occasionally watching the match; she had never been a big fan of Quidditch, at least not professional Quidditch. Harry and Ron were, unsurprisingly, standing on their feet nearly leaning over the rail and still cheering with zest for England. Ginny privately wondered how the Snitch could have eluded the Seekers for so long, she supposed she was just used to Harry's under-an- hour catches when he had played for Gryffindor during his school days.
"Ryder is plummeting to the ground at record speed!" yelled the commentator. Ginny perked up when she thought she saw a faint flicker of gold near the ground. She didn't stay too optimistic, though; the last time Ryder had gone after the Snitch, which had been practically under the feet of Oliver Wood, she had been hit in the back with a Bludger; not a pretty sight.
Ginny watched as the tiny and distant figure pulled up sharply before hitting the ground, than sped along just an inch away from the grass, straight across the field. She briefly wondered where the Polish Seeker was, but shrugged; she didn't care, she just wanted the game to be over.
"Zyskowski is racing across from the other side of the field, trying desperately to catch up to Ryder!"
The Snitch shot straight up in the air and doubled back the other way; Ryder followed it with a sharp turn around and soared up into the air, hot on its trail. The flutter of gold wings tried to flap harder but it was already pushing its speeds, and Ryder was just about in arms' length of it. Zyskowski now had a chance, since the Snitch was shooting in his direction; in fact, it seemed to be flying right at him. Ryder and Zyskowski both stretched their hands out, each barely half and inch from reaching the Snitch.
By now, even Hermione was interested enough to watch, and the crowd was silent; even the other players seemed to have halted, watching the unfolding drama with bated breath.
b-Smack!-/b Ryder and Zyskowski ran right into each other, the sound of flesh hitting flesh resounding throughout the arena. Both of them fell to the ground. Zyskowski was swearing in Polish, while Ryder held her hand up, allowing tiny wings to protrude between her fingers before they hit the ground with a load thud. After a moment of stunned silence the commentator yelled,
"Ryder has caught the Snitch! Puddlemere United has won the cup for England, winning with a grand total of 360 to 190!" A deafening sound of applause broke out; roaring cheers and whistling entwined as the England supporters danced with joy at the victory.
Although unhappy about the loss, the Poland supporters clapped; they were nationally recognized as having the best sportsmanship and were known to be very kind people.
Ginny gathered up all her stuff, waved a quick goodbye to Ron and Harry, then made a mad dash for the England locker rooms. She wasn't about to let them forget about the promised dinner interview.
~~~~~
Oliver had a huge grin plastered across his entire face. He was so happy he couldn't even say a word; he just grinned like a madman. Oliver swooped down on his broom, landing next to the fallen Seekers. He reached his hand out and Ryder thought he was going to help her up. No such luck. He took the winning Snitch from her hand.
"Oliver Wood! You be a gentleman and help me up right this minute!" Ryder crossed her arms, still laying on her back. True, the fall had been no picnic, but they had only been four feet above the ground and she was too happy with herself to pay any attention to the ache in her back.
Oliver grinned ruefully and would have bent over to offer his hand, but two Medi-Witches had rushed to Ryder's side. She scowled.
"Hurry up!" she complained. "I want to ride the victory lap!" One of the witches frowned at her, but mumbled a few well chosen words and then helped her up.
"Come on, hop on," Oliver said, pointing to the back of his broomstick. Ryder's had broken against the ground. She obliged and the two were soon in the air, where they quickly joined ranks with their teammates.
They flew several laps around, with Oliver holding up the hand that held the Snitch.
After finally landing they made their way to where Gerik Jedrek, the head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports for the Polish Ministry of Magic, stood holding the Cup, waiting it to award them.
---
A/N-2: In the next chapter Ginny meets up with Oliver and his Quidditch team.. Some interesting things happen involving Oliver and Seeker Ryder.