Thank you to Skeleton-n-the-closet (yeah, I sort of knew, but her not knowing has a key part in the fic later. You'll see) Alexandria J. Malfoy, and Arcander. If I forget someone, terribly sorry, I'm being kicked off the computer now. Oh, and the move here, I got from the Harry Potter Quidditch game, World Cup.
Disclaimer: I refuse to say it! (Watches as a boy with blond hair and charming silver blue eyes runs up to her and whispers something in her ear. Her eyes light up and she turns to readers) I don't own it! (Boy gives her kiss on cheek, and she slumps dreamily as he saunters off)
"No."
"Please?"
"No."
"You have to, I'm the Captain of this team!" Harry stamped his foot irately and glared as best as he could down at Ginny, who was slumped against a tree.
She blew a strand of hair from her face and tucked another behind her ears. Harry couldn't help but notice how endearing this small action was, but he pushed it to the back of his mind and steeled hi voice.
"Ginny. You are our best Chaser. We need you to come to practice, the next game is only two weeks away!"
"And it's plenty of time for me to practice!" Ginny retorted. "Harry, listen. I've been put into most of your classes, as well as some even you're not qualified for."
He winced, and Ginny quickly shrugged off the guilty feeling she was getting. "I've got loads of homework to do, and most of it is already going to take me the night!"
"But Ginny!" Harry pleaded, and in a most brilliant stroke (or at least, he thought it was) he got down on his knees, quidditch gear and all, and smiled winningly up at her. "We need you! Without you we're a complete fop!"
Ginny tried to hide the smile creeping across her face. "You've got two other fabulous Chasers, why'd' you need me?"
Harry snorted. "Please. Praia and Morgan? They're passable, but none of their maneuvers work unless you're out on the field to help them!"
Ginny's eyes scanned the pitch, which was filling up rapidly with the Quidditch team. She sighed, then, partly out of amusement.
"Fine, Harry. But don't expect me to be at my best!"
Harry jumped up then and hugged her tightly, leaving her breathless (from the lack of air, she told herself) and smiled widely.
"Great! Now, go get changed so we can start!" he bounded off then, and Ginny eyed him rather unkindly.
"Bloody prick. Gred and Forge were right, he has been possessed by Oliver Wood's spirit."
She huffed and blew more hair out of her eyes, before spinning around and walking stiffly back into the castle, and headed for the locker rooms.
She was massaging her aching temples with her eyes closed, which is why she didn't notice the figure until she ran into it.
"Ah, sorry, sorry!" she mumbled, and looked up. Her breath hitched as Draco smirked down at her.
"Was Potter proposing to you, Weasley?"
It took a moment for her to register that he was talking to her, and even longer before the insult hit home. Or at least, she took it as an insult.
"Sod off, Malfoy! I'm in no mood; my head aches, I've got tons of homework, and now I've got Quidditch practice!"
"Sp Potter did propose?" He was sticking stubbornly to the subject, and although she couldn't tell why he was so interested in it, she bit back.
"NO!" Ginny took a deep breath, and calmed herself. Cracking open one eye, she glared at Draco with it. "You know, Malfoy, I think you should have been hugged more as a child. It certainly could have improved your less then sufficient attitude."
Draco put a hand over his heart. "That hurt, Weaselette. Right there."
She stuck out her chin defiantly and stalked around him. His arms shot out though, almost sending her toppling.
"What the hell do you think you're doing, Malfoy?" she righted herself and pushed her hair back, trying desperately to keep her composure.
He had grabbed her hand and was fingering her wrist. She was in shock, and didn't pull it back. After a moment, he let go, and looked at her oddly.
"You have spell on your wrist, binding you to some sort of bet. You know that's illegal, right?"
Ginny swore inwardly. She had forgotten to hide the enchantment with a concealing charm. When she realized Malfoy was still looking at her, she sneered up at him. (He had a good seven inches on her rather miniscule five foot five frame.)
"I'd like to kill you right now." He didn't say anything, and she put her hands on her hips. "Fine. I made a bet with my friend, satisfied?"
He managed to smirk. "Yeah, yeah. Go on, Weaselette, scamper back to that dirt hole you call home."
She had her wand out and ready before he could even blink. "Do not mess with me, Malfoy," she said flatly. "Unlike others, I don't get intimidated by you." And before he could retort, she had set off down the hall at a fast pace.
Draco stared for a moment, before shaking his head. "Stupid Potter, and his stupid girlfriend…" he muttered. Why had he been so interested, anyways?
He suddenly lashed out, and kicked at the wall. Instantly, Draco regretted his decision, as pain shot up his leg and he ended up hopping on one foot.
"That's it! She will pay!" he howled, and set off limping towards the Slytherin dorms.
Two Weeks Later
Ginny sighed, and put down her quill. She immediately picked it up again, and sighed once more. Behind her, she could see Tessa stiffen from the corner of her eye. They were in the library, finishing up some last-minute homework before the quidditch match later that day.
Ginny moved her quill over the paper, as if she were going to write something; after a moment, she put it down, picked it up, and made as if to sigh, but Tess had suddenly clamped a hand over her mouth.
"Gods above, Ginevra! One more little release of breath comes from your mouth, and I may rip it out myself! I swear I will!"
"Mph hmph pfph!" Ginny looked imploringly up at her friend, who relented and took back her hand.
"But that's not fair!" the redhead said angrily. "It's not my fault I have so many classes, while the rest of you all are back in your dorms I'm just heading down to my first of the night!"
"Ah, yes it is." Tessa wagged a finger in her face. "It's your fault for actually paying attention in class and reading those books. Now, chin up, Ginny! You've got the Quidditch game in a few hours!"
"I know, I know, I know!" Ginny moaned. "And Harry's been talking every single moment about it!" She slumped forward, letting her head rest on the parchment in front of her. "I'm starting to sympathize with Malfoy now. I hate Harry-sodding-Potter…"
"Nice to know it, Gin." Harry appeared in between the bookshelves. His lips were up in a quirky grin as he looked down at the small redhead. "Just came by to tell you we've got to be at the pitch thirty minutes early—,"
"—So we can get ready for the game!" Ginny interrupted him. "I know, Harry, I know. I've been on the quidditch team for two years, three years if you count this one."
"Yes, but you might forget!"
"Harry, go away." Tessa smiled at him, but rolled her eyes at the same time. "She's going to claw your eyes out in a moment."
Harry smiled back. He'd met Tessa a few days back, and although he too had noticed her looks, but he preferred to stay friends with her. She scared him, frankly. While Ginny kept hold of her good girl guise as a way to get out of things, Tessa was open about her ability to strike and make it hurt.
"Ah, thanks, Tessa. Bye, Ginny, and don't forget, ok!" Fortunately, he managed to duck and run before the inkbottle hit him in the face.
Ginny pouted and took her wand from her robes. "Scourgify!" The blot of ink disappeared from the books that it had stained. Tessa took the liberty of repairing the inkbottle.
As she looked up, she noticed for what must have been the hundredth time the rings under her best friend's eyebrows.
"Gin, are you ok?" she asked. Ginny smiled, but it turned into a yawn.
"Just a little tired, ok? Now come on, Tessa, we've got to finish this damned essay for Potions. Who needs to know about morphing potions anyways?"
"Unless you're like Tonks, I think you'd want to know." Tessa smiled as Ginny rolled her eyes. She scanned the page of the big, dusty tome she had pulled out from the back of a shelf and a small smile curled at the corner of her lips.
"Tessa…Tessa! Check this out! 'Vampyre Metamorphagy'!" Tessa leaned over as Ginny read out loud.
" 'This potion will turn the drinker into any type of Vampire (types listed below) that they would prefer. It is, however, dangerous, as the lust for blood sometimes overpowers the drinker's willpower. The concoction lasts from dusk till dawn, and will not change much about the drinker unless otherwise specified.'"
"That would be fun to do," Tessa mused. "Maybe to freak Fred and George out of their wits?"
Ginny was already scribbling down the ingredients needed and the types listed at the bottom of the page. "It will be fun to do, as soon as we find an occasion to use it!"
"And the blood-sucking?" Tessa pointed doubtfully to the sentence, and Ginny read it over. After a moment, she shrugged.
"I suppose I can fix that, with some sort of potion. Maybe to bind the want to drink blood or to just make it so that we see everyone else as bloodless victims."
"Right then!" Tessa shut the book, ignoring Ginny's upset look. "We have to finish our essays!"
"How about," Ginny said, eyes shining innocently. "How about we do these essays after Snape washes his hair!"
"Come now, Ginny, that'll never happen, and we'll never have to do these essays!"
"Exactly!" Ginny crowed. However, Tessa ignored her and began studying once more. Ginny returned to her pick up quill, put down quill, pick up again and sigh routine, until Tessa cast a silencing charm on her and refused to remove it.
Ginny strapped on the last of her pads, the ones around her lower legs, before she stood up and stretched.
"…And Ginny, you have to pass to Morgan when she gets about thirty feet down the field, from there she'll pass to Praia, and from there she'll score a goal. Should the keeper get this goal, we will try our special moves. Got that everyone?"
Ginny nodded along with the rest of the team, although she had not paid attention at all. She suspected no one else had, either. Harry's pre-game pep talks were basically reviews of every single game plan they had.
A whistle blew somewhere from outside, and slowly, the team began to file out.
"Hey, Gin!" Someone hissed from behind her. She turned and saw Morgan Ellis grinning widely at her. Morgan's beaded cornrows made rattling noises as she shook her head.
"You sure look ready for this game. It can't be half as bad as one of Harry's pep talks." Ginny laughed and shook her head.
"I'm fine, just a bit tired that's all." The other Chaser, Praia Eirdow, walked up to them, shouldering her Nimbus 2000. Praia was a pretty girl, with wide set hazel eyes and a tanned complexion. Morgan was also attractive, but with her dark skin and somewhat regal bearing, she looked every inch the Caribbean Princess.
"Ginny, I think it's going to have to be all you this game. My wrist is still killing me from when I sprained it last summer, and unless Morgan's decided not to tell you, she broke her arm around July and isn't supposed to exert it until October."
Ginny took a moment to look them over, both of them nervous and pleading with their eyes. Somewhere, distantly in her mind, she hears a voice telling her it's too much. She can't do all this; she barely made it to the locker rooms without collapsing.
But that voice sounds like Tom.
"Sure!" Her voice is bright and cheery, betraying her true feelings. "Of course I will, but I'll still have to pass it to you guys a few times."
They hugged her, chattering happily, and the three walked quickly out into the rather gray, dreary day. Ginny felt a small drop of water on her head and sighed. It was going to rain…
The crowds were cheering wildly, though, and she soon forgot it all. She clutched her Firebolt closer as Madam Hooch went over the rules. She'd been given the broom as an award, for helping defeat Voldemort.
"Players, take your positions!" Madame Hooch's cry startled her from her reverie, and Ginny swung a leg over her broom before pushing off. She realized she hadn't even shaken hands with the opposing Chaser, but somehow she knew they wouldn't care much.
"And they're off!" Arielle Jordan, Lee Jordan's younger sister, was the commentator for the game. As the whistle blew, she began speaking rapidly, and much like her brother too.
"Gryffindor has the Quaffle, but oh! What a shame! Slytherin's managed to take it—you dirty, rotten lot—and they're speeding down the pitch and—Slytherin has scored! This early in the game too?"
The sea of silver and green erupted into roars, and Ginny almost put her hands over her ears before she remembered she needed them to stay balanced. The rain had started, as she had predicted, and was now drenching her terribly. She couldn't see the Quaffle, much less steal it.
Sighing, Ginny began the monotonous task of search, steal, and score. The three S's a chaser must live by.
About an hour later, the score was Slytherin—160, and Gryffindor—0. It was an awful, awful way to play the first game of the season, and Harry was showing it. He was so agitated, the Snitch flew in front of his face once and he didn't bother catching it. He couldn't have, seeing as they would have still lost the game. All he needed now was one of his Chasers to score a point, and then he could continue the search.
Ginny was very, VERY tired. The Quaffle had been eluding her for the better part of the game, and when she finally did have it, she was forced to pass to Morgan or Praia, who immediately fumbled it. She was getting drenched, and hating every moment off it.
Suddenly, someone rammed hard into her. Ginny only just managed to veer left, while the other person veered right and into an oncoming Bludger. She couldn't help but laugh a little, but all that came out was a little choking noise as she contemplated what had just dropped in her hands.
The Quaffle! Ginny's eyes widened, and she kicked her heels against the side of her Firebolt. Immediately, she went tearing down the Quidditch Pitch, where she could see Slytherin's three Chasers congregating around the goal posts.
She let out a bark of frustration, and made as if to brake, but a sudden idea struck her. No one had seen the move yet; she'd only practiced it by herself…
"What's this? Ginevra Weasley has got the Quaffle and she's speeding down there but—move, girl! Don't you see the other Chasers? But she's going faster, and faster, and it doesn't look like they're gonna move. This is going to be one hel—heck of a collision, geez Professor."
McGonagall was put off wondering why Dumbledore still let the Jordans handle the commentating when Ginny suddenly sped up as fast as the broom could go.
"GINNY MOVE!" Harry shouted. He had totally forgotten about the Snitch and was now heading for his Chaser. It didn't really matter anyway, as the Slytherin and Gryffindor team had stopped totally. But Ginny wasn't about to stop, and the crowd realized this when she did the unthinkable.
With careful, calm precision, at almost a hundred miles per hour, Ginevra Weasley stood up on her broom.
In an almost liquid movement, she jumped, letting the broom crash into the opposing players, who scattered, as did the Keeper. Ginny took careful aim, and pitched the Quaffle into the goalpost.
She flipped once, for resistance, before her hand found her broom floating next to her, and she grabbed it thankfully. The whole Gryffindor side broke out into stunned applause, and the Slytherins were too shocked to say anything.
Ginny enjoyed the clapping, but the jump had made her very dizzy, and she felt slightly nauseous when she was settled on her broom once more. Ron seemed to have shaped up since he saw his younger sister's moves, and Ginny knew all she needed to worry about now was a Bludger and Malfoy catching the Snitch.
There was a buzzing in her head, though, and try as she might, she couldn't get rid of it. After a moment, she started shaking her head a bit, and soon, this turned into full out jerking.
"And Collins with the Quaffle…to Eirdow now, back to Collins, and—what in the world is Weasley doing? Does she have a tic?"
Ginny was well aware everyone must be staring at her now, but the buzzing was growing too loud for her to care. She clapped a hand to her head, and immediately a cry escaped her.
Not only did that hurt like hell, but something metallic was flapping about in her hair! With a start, she realized it was the Snitch. Unfortunately for her, Harry and Draco realized it at about the same time too, just as the Snitch tried to tear away from her.
Harry and Draco both began to the headlong run to get to her, and when she noticed they weren't stopping, she did the only thing she could do. She flew far, far away.
"Damn it, Harry, can you stop please!" she screamed back. But Harry was glaring fiercely at Draco and reaching out a hand at the same time. Ginny really didn't feel like losing some of her hair, so she decided shaking them off was the best way to go.
"Holy shit—take mushrooms! Those guys are really after her, and it looks like she's noticed it too. She's going up, into the clouds! Is that safe? Hey—we can't see her anymore! Well, folks, it looks like it's all up to Miss Weasley now."
Ginny was currently ducking and dodging. She'd lost sight of Harry, but Draco was still doggedly following in her footsteps, straining his own Firebolt closer and closer.
"Leave me alone, Malfoy!" she cried suddenly. He smirked.
"Not a chance, Weasley!"
She rolled her eyes. "If I had known you were this attracted to me, I would have dashed your hoped years ago!"
Draco ignored her and tried once more to grab a handful of her broom, but she swerved sharply. This proved to be a bad move, however, as she crashed into Harry. Her reflexes were to roll over and let go…
Which is what she did.
It took a while for Ginny to realize she was falling, but when she did, it took all her willpower not to scream. She closed her eyes tightly instead, and listened to the wind and rain pounding in her ears. Her hair was drenched, and seemed to be weighing her down. All the fatigue she'd been feeling over the past few weeks was suddenly catching up.
Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if she fell after all.
She sighed and hugged herself against the chilly atmosphere. Harry and Malfoy! Ooh, the nerve of those two, all this for a stupid golden flying ball! They let me fall for that ball. Where have all the good men gone?
She vaguely felt the thing buzzing about in her ear, and felt a small smirk creep to her lips as she realized it would be crushed with her. Harry would be devastated.
Where have they gone indeed?
Suddenly, a strong pair of arms had grabbed her, shielding her from the rain. She opened her eyes and blinked, after seeing not emerald irises, but gray ones. Her head was rushing about madly, and she found it hard to stay awake.
Where…good men…
"Oh, look. I found a good one," was all she managed, before she blacked out.