A/N: I've got myself hopelessly confused as to where I'm up to in answering comments. If I haven't answered yours it's not because I'm ignoring you, but because I'm hopeless. Huge apologies!

Quidditch.

Ginny was trying to decide what she wanted to do with her life. For too long she had been told what to do and who to be by other people. But what did she want? Who did Ginny herself want to be? The one place where Ginny felt free, and away from the burden of the expectations her family still heaped on her, was in the air. The decision was therefore easy. Ginny was going to become a quidditch star. She no longer tried to hide her flying from her brothers (Ginny was no shrinking violet anymore, after all), but she did have to go out when they weren't using their brooms.

Molly walked outside one afternoon when the boys had gone to the village for the afternoon, and watched her daughter flying. She was so focused, so intent on what she was doing, urging the old cleansweep she was riding to go faster and turn more quickly, that she didn't notice her mother on the ground below, with her hand raised above her eyes shading them. Molly's heart twisted as she watched Ginny. This was not the small child she had cuddled and nurtured, no this was a fast maturing young woman, and the knowledge that at least part of that was due to her experiences with Tom Riddle's diary was terrifying.

Eventually Ginny noticed her mother and came in to land.

'Hi, Mum,' she said. She was barely sweating, despite what had looked like the rigours of the flight.

'How are you doing up there?' Molly indicated the air, and Ginny grinned at her, her freckles bright against her flushed skin.

'I'm getting better, Mum. Can't do much with this old broom,' she looked down at the weathered handle with a mix of affection and frustration, 'but every day I get a little bit better.'

'It's always felt so inevitable to me, you know,' Molly said with a faraway look on her face. 'You playing quidditch I mean. You've always been a fierce one and so determined to do everything the boys do.'

'Oh, not everything, Mum. There are a few things I'll leave up to them, thanks.' Ginny giggled at the look on her mother's face.

She laced her arm through her mother's and drew her along to sit on the ground beside her.

'Do you think I can do it?'

'Play quidditch? Yes I think so dear. Watching you today I realised you're as skilled at this as your brothers and you have the determination.'

'I want to play for Gryffindor, but I'm not sure how the boys will react.' Ginny looked into the faraway distance as if envisaging what her brothers would say if she was ever reckless enough to mention that she wanted to play quidditch professionally.

Molly looked at her daughter's earnest face. 'Do you really care?' she asked gently. 'Think about it – if you made the team and the boys rejected you because of it, how would you react?'

Ginny refocused on her mother and stared her in the eyes. Her voice when she spoke was determined.

'I'd be the best bloody quidditch player this family has ever seen and damn them all!'

'Of course you would.' Molly smiled at her daughter and gave her a squeeze. 'So, if this is what you really want, you should just go out there and do it.' She gave a reminiscent chuckle. 'Do you remember when you were a wee girl insisting you wanted to play quidditch and you weren't going to let being a girl get in your way?'

'Yeah.' Ginny laughed a little at the memory of her tiny self standing there so forthrightly declaring that she wasn't going to be a girl anymore. 'But I kind of like being a girl now, and there are some amazing female quidditch players in the league these days.

'So, when are you going out for the team? This coming year?'

'I don't think so. No, don't look at me like that, Mum,' she added as Molly's brow creased and she opened her mouth to say something.

'Like what?'

'Like you think I'm chickening out. I'm not. I just know I'm not ready; I've got better, a lot better, but I'm not good enough for the team.' Ginny sounded furious as she refuted her mother's idea.

'Okay, okay.' Molly raised her hands in mock fear as Ginny blazed with her tirade. They sat in peace side by side for a while, listening to the wind ruffling the trees surrounding them.

'I think you're wrong, you know,' Molly said finally, turning to look Ginny in the eyes. 'I think you're plenty good enough to be on the team. But until you know that in here,' she patted Ginny's heart, 'you're not going to do a good job.'

She stood up and smiled at her daughter. 'Just think about it, okay Ginny?'

Ginny remained seated, arms clasped around her legs, head on her knees and thought about it. She knew her mother meant well but she was talking from a biased perspective. Ginny wasn't being modest when she said she wasn't good enough for the team. She hadn't watched Harry covertly for years without picking up an enormous body of knowledge of the current Gryffindor team. Fred and George had told her what Oliver Wood had said at his speech at the start of one year, that they had the best people on their brooms and from what Ginny had seen Oliver hadn't been exaggerating. The team worked as a cohesive unit, even now that Oliver had gone. Yes, they hadn't played last year because of the Triwizard Tournament, but Ginny had seen Harry and the others out practising anyway at least until the pitch had been used for a maze. Ginny's lips curled in derision at the use the pitch had been put to. Even though there was nothing riding on the practices, the team had worked hard to be a unified group and Ginny knew that she wasn't as good as the chasers already on the team.

She sighed and got up, moving inside to see her mother again. She found Molly sitting in the lounge with her knitting needles clicking away beside her.

'I just want to say thanks for believing in me, Mum,' Ginny said, sliding onto the couch next to Molly.

'Of course I do. There's no doubt in my mind that you can do this.' Molly stopped and looked hard at her youngest child. 'But you still doubt yourself, don't you?'

'No, or at least not in the way you mean. I know I can do this, Mum. But I also know I can't do it yet. I'm going to practise hard all this year and get really good and wow them all at the trials for next year.' She smiled impishly. 'They are not going to know what hit them.'

Molly laughed, the sound throaty and warm. 'Now, that's my girl. Believe in yourself, love, and all the rest will follow.'

'Of course. How else will I ever get to be a world-famous quidditch player? The Gryffindor team is my first stepping stone to a career in the big leagues.'

'What position are you after, love? Seeker?' Molly cast a sly look sideways at Ginny.

Ginny gave her an unimpressed glare and said, 'No! Of course not. I want to be a chaser – it's much more fun getting away from other people than it is trying to seek after something practically impossible to see. Chasers have way more fun in the game, they do the most stuff and the coolest.'

'Plus, there's three of them,' Molly said, seriously. 'You'd have a better chance of getting in.'

Ginny rolled her eyes. 'Mum! It doesn't work like that. There may be more chasers, but there are more people wanting to be chaser, too.'

She twirled on the spot, excited by the quidditch talk, seeing dreams of her future shimmer in front of her eyes. Determined to make it as a player, Ginny headed outside again to practice some more.

Molly watched Ginny as she pirouretted her way out of the kitchen, hair flying behind her. Much as it hurt her to admit it, Molly knew it was a good thing that Ginny had the self-confidence to accept that she wasn't ready to fly yet and to keep trying as hard as she could to improve enough to get where she wanted to go. Quidditch was a dangerous career, but Molly would cut off her right arm before she stood in the way of her daughter's dream.

Out of the window she watched as Ginny did the same move over and over again, correcting minute problems in her technique with each attempt. One thing she knew for sure: Ginny was the type of girl who would never give up. She hadn't given up over the diary thing, she hadn't let lack of friends in her first year stop her from making new ones and she sure as hell wouldn't let a small thing like not being the best quidditch player yet stop her either.

Proud as she was of her daughter and her attitude, Molly still had to suppress a sigh at the idea of her youngest child already knowing what she wanted out of life and so determinedly going out there and trying to get it. Dragging her eyes away Ginny, Molly turned back to her own chores, leaving Ginny to the flights of dreamers and the dogged determination of the hard worker.