Author's Note: This is all mine. JK stole it from me. And she's always going to have to live with herself and what she did. No, really, that was just a joke! Don't sue me!
Reparo
It had become common knowledge that Ginny Weasley dumped boys after Quidditch matches. Not every match. Last year a sixth-year Hufflepuff made it through Hufflepuff vs. Slytherin and Ravenclaw vs. Gryffindor before he was axed. But then, the Hufflepuff loss had been catastrophic. In general, though, if she had a boyfriend the day before a match, she would not have one the day after. And by now, everyone including her boyfriends had figured that out.
So she really should not be this upset.
Nor should she be heading out, more than half-drunk, to the pitch in the dead of the night before the Quidditch final with a sack full of everything any boy had ever given her to try a set of spells she hadn't quite worked out.
The spells distracted her momentarily. She, Hermione, and Terry Boot had been working on a training module for the DA, and if they could get it to work, it would be very helpful. The basic idea was to enchant a series of objects to fly at and attack a person who would defend themselves by any means necessary. Ginny, with her extensive experience with turning apples into bludgers, was providing the charm work. Hermione had been working out the Arithmancy to tailor the module to an individual's fighting style. It was Terry that they were all so proud of, though. He had the idea to combine all this with computer programs from Muggle video games, to make the module become more difficult as the trainee gained skill. They had just finished getting together a formula they thought would work and had agreed to try it out together tomorrow evening after the match, but Ginny was really in the mood to hex something.
Never again. Ever. She was sick of stupid boys with their stupid presumptions. No more Gryffindors, no more DA members was apparently insufficient. She'd just be a nun. Or a lesbian. She snorted. Ron always said lesbians were just women who were pissed off at men. So that narrowed it back down to nun.
She dumped the sack full of coffee mugs and dried corsages, old letters and rock pets onto the ground where the balls were always released from their trunk. She angrily went through the incantations before flying ten feet in the air and shouting, "Curre disciplina!" and streaking to the end of the pitch, trinkets following behind, not knowing they were destined for destruction.
She practiced evasions first and her thoughts flew back to Jim. What had she ever seen in him? Wasn't very good-looking. Didn't know a thing about Quidditch. Rude. Certainly wasn't very bright if he thought that—"Reductor!" The crystal ball was the first to go. Too bad. It had been a gag gift from Dean, with whom things had gone back to normal almost immediately after she dumped him following a pickup game at the Burrow summer before last.
Thus far the spell complex seemed to be working. The Arithmancy and computer programming had integrated very well. The objects were beginning to coordinate in blocking her typical flight patterns. Ginny half-wished Hermione and Terry were here to see it. The things were learning. Learning… probably too well, they'd have to tone it down next run. Flying increasingly erratic patterns one handed while firing increasingly obscure curses to which the system had not yet adapted was as dangerous as it sounded. Especially after unknown quantities of gin in an unknown number of gin and tonics. Ginny kept close to the ground after a few unintentional starfish and stick maneuvers.
She just couldn't believe Jim. As if he knew anything about anything. She was sixteen, what on earth would she want with a long-term boyfriend, anyway? These Hogwarts boys were so clingy, that's all there was to it. This certainly had absolutely nothing to do with what he thought. Or what everyone though, if he was telling the truth and not just lashing out. The absolute nerve. Broke up with her. Didn't even give her a chance to say so much as an 'I think we should break up too because you're an unbearable prat.' Just said his bit and ran off for his common room. Coward.
'We can't all save the world, you know.'
Ginny closed her eyes to keep sudden tears from falling. And was promptly smacked off her broom. She grabbed out to catch anything and her fingers closed around whatever it was back for a second attack.
"Ow!" She'd landed flat on her back and her eyes smarted. "Finite incantatem." The few remaining objects fell to the ground.
She sat up to look at what she held in her hand and laughed. A photo in a beautiful crystal frame a boy had given her to show that he supported her, understood her. A pathetic attempt at ingratiating himself and she'd dumped him following Ravenclaw vs. Hufflepuff.
She smiled again. The Gryffindor Quidditch team, right after their smashing defeat of Slytherin. Ron was jumping up and down, one hand holding a crown in place. Malfoy was scowling in the background. Ginny was shaking a scepter that flashed 'Weasley is our Queen!' in alternating jewel tones above her head when Harry suddenly picked her up and spun her around. Harry always picked her up and spun her around after Quidditch matches. When they went the way that would help Gryffindor, and they usually did. The non-photographic Ginny burst into tears.
She had to be over Harry Potter. He was a friend, that was all, and that was all she wanted. And everybody in the whole school was talking about how she dumped every boy who came along ready to adore her because she was still hung up on the Boy Who Lived.
She flung the picture at the wall of the pitch, enjoying the shattering magnified in the stillness.
"You always have to ruin everything, don't you?! I don't like you, I don't like you, I don't like you anymore and still! Everyone thinks I'm going to send you a singing pickled toad and hope that makes you realize what an absolute idiot you are.
"As if anyone could like you, anyway! All you do is sulk. Sulk, sulk, sulk, all day long because I'm Harry Potter and I can do whatever I like and stop talking to whoever I like all of a sudden even if we were on the verge of developing a real friendship and real trust. You never talk to me anymore, what is that about? I'm Ginny Weasley and I don't like you, Harry Potter.
"But I've learned a lot more from you than shield charms and expecto patronum, and it's the same thing I learned from Tom. You cannot trust anybody, especially men! They will take whatever you give them—your heart, your thoughts, your dreams—and turn it into something ugly and break it apart if you're stupid enough to let them."
She sank down and put her head on her knees. Harry Potter she was over. It was herself she wasn't over. Wasn't over what she had allowed herself to be back then. Wasn't over losing herself for another person. And all these poor boys had suffered because of it.
She got up and walked over to the shattered picture frame. The people in the picture drew back when they saw her. "Reparo," she whispered. It all came back together. Not quite as pretty as it had been before, she'd never been good at this spell. But still back together.
She repacked what remained of her trove of gifts into her bag and walked unsteadily back up to the castle. She'd be good for nothing tomorrow if she didn't get some sleep.
A few rows up a boy sat with his head in his hands. After a few minutes he got up, readjusted his invisibility cloak, and followed her quietly. He had come to make sure she was safe.
The end
AN: "Curre disciplina" roughly translates to "Run the military drill."