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Ginny stepped into the Harpies' locker rooms for the first time and looked around.
Scattered brooms, chaser gloves, beater bats, pain-killing potions, and posters of the best Quidditch players of all time.
Her heart was pounding, ringing in her ears. She couldn't hear Gwenog, The Gwenog Jones, introduce her to the rest of the team.
Harry gave her a pep talk outside the stadium, telling her that she'd be great. He always knew how to reassure her and make her calm. But now that he was gone, her anxiety returned with a vengeance.
What if the trials were just a fluke, and she turned out to be a shite chaser, out of the league without even making the starting seven?
No. She refused to think that. She remembered what Harry had said, "You are a fantastic chaser. The best I've ever known, and you've kicked arse in the trials. Just be yourself." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm herself.
Sweaty gear, broom polish, and pain reliever. Same back at Hogwarts. That was familiar.
When Ginny opened her eyes, she saw several sets of eyes staring at her curiously, waiting for her to say something.
"Umm…hi, everyone. I'm Ginny. Nice to meet you all," she said, trying not to show her nerves.
She went to every Harpy and shook hands, learning their names. Georgia Smith seemed the friendliest. Barely a year older than her, the seeker grew up in America, her parents moving away during the first war.
Gwenog put her hands on her hips, surveying the room. "Girls, get ready for practice in five. I'll go have a word with the groundkeepers in the meantime."
As soon as she left the room, the rest of the team pounced on her, firing off questions at her.
"Are you really dating Harry Potter?"
"When did you start dating?"
"Why is he always so moody to the press?"
"Is he really that good at Quidditch?"
"Why didn't he become a Quidditch player?"
The questions became progressively more uncomfortable.
"How is he in bed?"
"Are the rumours true?"
"Does he actually have a massive cock?"
Ginny thought that the questions about Harry would stop after she entered the locker room, but she was naive. Would people always think that she secured her place on the team because of Harry? She was her own person, with her own talents, her own hopes, and her own dreams. Would she always be seen as Harry's partner instead of herself?
"Girls, back off."
It was Valerie Loudhorn, one of the chasers. She held the record for the fastest first goal scored in a game. 3.48 seconds.
They all looked embarrassed, which comforted Ginny. But the questions still unnerved her.
"Yes, I'm dating Harry. We started dating when I was fifteen, and he is always moody to the press as they don't give him any privacy," she said firmly, her eyes blazing.
"But I'm my own person. I'm not just Harry's girlfriend. And I earned my place on this team on my skill, and I'll prove it to you once we're down on that pitch." She looked at all their faces, some shocked at the firm tone and the rest proud.
"I like your fire, Weasley."
Gwenog was leaning on the wall, arms crossed, looking at her with a proud smile, and Ginny felt herself blush at the compliment.
"We all know that you're an excellent player, which is why we bagged you before anyone else could. The girls were just curious. They didn't mean it like that."
The others nodded their agreement, apologies on their faces. Ginny felt a lot better now. At least her teammates believed in her talent.
"Now, let's get going! This is our season! Go, Harpies!"
"Go, Harpies!"
