GINNY

The moment had come. The moment that stood looming over her entire Christmas holiday, but that she chose to ignore.

The conversation with Dean.

Ginny was no stranger to arguing. In fact, she was good at it. As arguing goes. She'd grown up in a house full of mouthy boys and a mother who could rival them all. After verbal confrontations as a Weasley, you learned to simply moved on. No grand resolutions necessary. Everyone loved everyone. Simple as that. Nothing could be said that would put that irrefutable fact into question. Words, in any octave, meant love.

An icy chill ran through her. Except for Percy's.

But The Dean Conversation was completely different. This was an argue-talk-resolve conversation. A relationship conversation. Something she didn't even bother with for Michael. She had no idea what to expect.

"What's the hold up?" Ron asked. They'd rounded the last corner leading to the Fat Lady's portrait. Without meaning to or realizing it, Ginny had stopped in her tracks and clutched the strap of her traveler's bag.

"Nothing," she said miserably.

She slowly marched the length of the hall behind Ron and Harry. The memory of her and Dean's argument replaying for the seven hundredth time in her mind…

-

"Ginny, my dear girl!," bellowed Slughorn as he waddled towards them. "Come! You must reconnect with Gwenog." Ginny and Dean followed him to the buffet table, laden with festive Christmas themed snacks and refreshments.

"Gwenog, this is the young Quidditch player you met at my last party. Do you remember? Ginny Weasley!" Announcing her name as if she'd scored a match-winning goal.

Gwenog Jones was an impressive dark-skinned woman, standing several inches above Ginny and Slughorn. She was built like a beater. Broad shoulders, muscular neck, and defined forearms. When shaking her hand, Ginny felt the course calluses the beater's bat had left there.

"It's just wonderful to meet you again, Miss Jones," she said earnestly.

"You as well," said Gwenog succinctly and a curt nod. The group fell into a lingering awkwardness. No one was sure who should talk next.

"So- er - I've been considering trying out for professional Quidditch," Ginny blurted into the void.

Gwenog's eyebrows shot up. And Slughorn, who already had an impressive rosy red glow on his cheeks, looked delighted at the news. "You don't say! Gwenog, what advice do you have for the girl?" He clapped Gwenog on the shoulder, making her cocktail slosh dangerously.

"Hmm," she hummed for a moment, appearing to size Ginny up. "What position?"

"Chaser."

Ginny had apparently earned a cursory approval, for Gwenog continued, "Give it your best during every match. I have been known to come to several Hogwarts matches when considering a recruit. And you'll need to attend tryouts after you finish school."

"Okay, how do I -"

"And you should also be aware that I will contact each of your captains for a short interview about you. To ensure that you are someone we would want on the team."

"Of course, when does -''

"Additionally, prepare yourself that there are a lot of impressive female athletes on the Harpies and other professional teams. Some of us have stayed on the team despite years of new competition. When you are ready, you may contact me here, my information is on the back," she finished with a grand gesture, pulling out a card with her business information from her violet robes.

Ginny took the card, cradling it as if it were a precious gem. Because it certainly looked like one. It was a dark green, shimmering even in the low-lit party, emblazoned with canary yellow writing:


Gwenog Jones
Captain of the Holyhead Harpies
GO HARPIES!

Without waiting for a response, she turned toward the drink table to refill her glass. Slughorn looked positively pleased with himself. "Wonderful. Just marvelous. That is why I host these parties," he said, tapping his nose. Without another word he toddled away unsteadily, hunting for his next networking opportunity.

Dean stood over her shoulder with a wide smile.

"I didn't know you wanted to go pro," he said.

Ginny beamed and felt uncharacteristically giddy. She made a concerted effort to tuck the card safely in her handbag. "It's just been something I've been thinking about."

"That's brilliant, Ginny," he encouraged.

"Thanks, Dean. We will see, it's the first time I even told anyone. And I can't believe it was Gwenog Jones…" Ginny peered back at her over her shoulder, admiring the way Gwenog carried herself as she weaved through the crowd of the party. Ginny bounced on her feet and took a swig of her too-sweet cranberry drink. Her eyes roved over the other guests of the party. It was Christmas, she thought gleefully. She'd had the best term she could remember. Full marks. Quidditch practice. And now meeting Gwenog Jones. THE Gwenog Jones.

She smiled into her cup as she took another sip. Life at Hogwarts had always been so hard. After Tom, it took everything she had to catch up to classmates. Struggling to make friends when she didn't even know herself after the Chamber. But now, she'd caught up. Now, she had friends. And a perfectly pleasant boyfriend. So perhaps, just maybe, her last three years could be different.

"I just wish you had introduced me," said Dean.

"What?" Ginny asked, rudely taken out of her shining moment.

"To Gwenog, I just think it would have been polite to introduce me as well," he said, ruining everything. Ginny shook her head slightly, as if to ward off an annoying fly.

"Dean, were you there? She didn't let me get a word in," Ginny's eyes narrowed. "And you're upset that I didn't introduce you?" Frustration boiled up from the pit of her stomach. What a ridiculously stupid reason to be upset.

"Well, I like Quidditch too. It would have been cool to connect with her. And what if I wanted to go pro as well?"

"You want to be a professional Quidditch player?" she asked, incredulous.

"Well, no, but what if I had?" he countered.

"You've been on the team for one whole term," she seethed. "And on a technicality at that."

"So you're saying if I was better at Quidditch, then you'd introduce me to her?"

"No, I'm saying that I barely spoke to her. And it's ridiculous that you could want me to prioritize introducing you as my boyfriend."

"Ridiculous, is it, to ask you to prioritize me as your boyfriend?"

"What?" she asked, rounding on him. "You're twisting my words, and you know it."

"But that's just the problem, isn't it Ginny? We've been dating for months now. Yet still I don't feel like you really see me as your actual boyfriend."

"Of course I do! Or is there another reason I'd be snogging you all over the castle."

"We haven't had a proper snog in weeks," he muttered.

"What did you just say?" she said in a deathly whisper. She placed her drink down on the table and crossed her arms.

Seeing his mistake, Dean made to backtrack. "Ginny, that's not what I meant. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said it. But I have to admit that after all this time, I would have thought we'd feel more like a couple. Like you'd confide in me more or… blimey, I don't know, that you'd want to know more about me too?"

"Well, if it's just a good shag you want, then why didn't you say something? We could have skipped the whole effort of being in this relationship and just -"

"Ginny, stop. I am not with you just for that. Now you're twisting my words."

They stood at an impasse. Ginny fumed, feeling the sharp accusation of "you're not open enough." And Dean glowered down at her. She could tell that he was offended by her suggesting that he was only with her for their physical relationship. But she didn't care. He'd ruined a perfectly good night at the end of a perfectly good term. And now, was no longer a perfectly pleasant boyfriend.

Dean retrieved her glass and held it out to her as a peace offering. "Look, Ginny. Do you just want to forget it and go back to the -"

"Yeah, you can forget it, Dean. Goodnight." She turned on her heel and left him standing there, clutching two glasses.

-

Dean had sent no letter over holiday. His gift was sweet, a small pendant necklace with a Quaffle hanging from a silver chain. With only a note attached that asked her to meet him when she returned to the castle.

Now it was time to face him. Kicking herself, she realized that she should have prepared for this moment. All of the Christmas holidays, she could have thought up what to say at this moment. But no, she had ignored it all, hadn't she.

She found him. He was sitting with Seamus at one of the tables in the Common Room. Her feet suddenly felt very heavy. As she approached, Seamus' expression turned sour and he nudged Dean's arm.

"Hey Dean! Fancy taking a walk?" she said with forced excitement.

"Hey Ginny, yeah of course," he said, and stood up to follow her.

"Careful not to slip on any ice, Ginny. Wouldn't want it to ruin your chances at a long Quidditch career," Seamus said.

"Thank you for your concern, Seamus. But just think, with me injured you'd finally get a shot at being on the team!" she retorted, laden with mock sweetness. Seamus' face settled into a deep scowl. She took Dean's hand and led them out of the Common Room. They walked slowly, unsure of exactly where they were going.

To add insult to awkwardness, she suddenly had a flashback to when they'd first started dating. How she used to wrap her right arm around his bicep and elbow. Then with her left hand, she'd lace her fingers through his. It was impossible to walk straight like that. But at the time it felt so nice to lean against his tall frame. Those early weeks, it was so simple. She was excited about him. About their summer of exchanging flirty letters and finally getting to know each other in person.

September back at Hogwarts was by far the best period of their relationship. She loved the feeling of being his girlfriend. Being cared for. He liked to wrap her up in his large, long arms. It made her feel safe and protected. She'd never had that with Michael. She'd never felt so girly in her entire life. He held her close when they were with his friends - Seamus, Parvati, and Lavender.

All of the shine started to tarnish after a few weeks. Dean's physical touches started to feel clingy, overly proper and painfully conscientious. It soon made her feel delicate, and restricted somehow. He acted like she'd break into tiny pieces at the wrong pressure of touch. Or if something didn't go her way, he worried she'd be upset. His friends started to get annoying too. They seemed to think that they were above it all, passing judgements from a place of clandestine seniority. No wonder they weren't close with Ron, Hermione and Harry. However closed off those three were, they were never aloof.

For Dean's part, Ginny also noticed that he started to get uncomfortable with her jokes. Especially the rude ones that seemed to tumble out of her mouth involuntarily. Growing up around six older brothers in a place called "The Burrow" did not exactly lend itself to posh, ladylike manners of civility.

All of their original "newness" had rekindled when he joined the Quidditch Team. It was a relief for them to have something to talk about again. Flying had preserved their relationship. However, it didn't take long for her to get annoyed whenever he'd chuck a poor pass. Or when he'd fumble the Quaffle, letting it slip between his fingers. And why didn't he bother to practice until he got it right? He seemed to sluff it off, as if Quidditch wasn't meant to be taken seriously.

This all rattled through her mind as they continued to walk aimlessly, wordlessly through Hogwarts' frigid halls. She willed yourself to reach out and grab his arm, just like she used to. She knew he'd recognize the gesture and that'd make this all a little easier. But as much as she wanted to, her hand just wouldn't obey.

"How was your holiday?" He finally asked.

"Alright. Nothing too eventful. Other than my brother Percy trying to crash Christmas. We don't get along with him too well now... It's been a lot for Mum."

"Why'd he try to crash then? Trying to make up with everyone?"

"No, it was just his ploy with the Minister of Magic to come and spy on 'The Chosen One'," she said with air quotes.

"Right… Was it weird having him there over the holidays?"

"Harry? No, why would that be weird? He spends every break at the Burrow."

"Oh, yeah. Why, though? Doesn't he have anywhere else to go?"

"He doesn't get on with his aunt and uncle. Wait, surely you'd know that? Sharing a dorm for all these years?"

"Truthfully, I don't know much about him. Doesn't say much. Other than when he sleeps…"

"Yeah. I wonder if his nightmares are better this year," she said.

"How do you know he has nightmares?"

"He told me," Ginny said. This conversation was getting dangerously close to topics she'd rather avoid. "Dean, what's this about? Why are we talking about Harry?"

"I dunno, just forget it."

"What, do you have a problem with Harry?"

"No, no! Not at all. It just seems like you're all really close."

"Okay, and that … bothers you?"

"I dunno, it just feels odd. Doesn't feel normal."

"Well his life isn't normal, is it?" she said, trying not to sound too defensive.

"No, I suppose not. But is it wrong to wish my girlfriend wasn't in the thick of it?"

"In the thick of it? You mean fighting against You-Know-Who and his blood status genocide?"

Dean sighed. "Forget I said anything."

"I seem to remember you were in the D.A. last year too, Dean."

"You're absolutely right. I'm on the good side too, Ginny."

Trying her best to remain calm despite the conversation going wildly off topic, Ginny straightened up and took a deep breath.

"Look, there's just a lot going on in the entire Wizarding World right now. Harry is sort of at the center of it. And by extension, so is my family. That's not my fault. Or his. It's just…we're the only family he's got."

Dean refused to look at her, but busied himself inspecting the portraits around them. His jaw was set forward.

"Dean, I'm sorry," Ginny said at last.

"What are you sorry for?" he said, as if challenging her.

"Hermione brought to my attention that I may have reacted unfairly or too quickly at Slughorn's Party. You should be able to tell me what bothers you without me storming off."

"All I was saying was that it would be cool to have met her," he said. "I didn't see why you'd get angry at that."

"I was talking with my childhood idol, it's not like I was thinking clearly," she shot back. Then, seeing the look on his face, she inhaled through her nose and valiantly attempted to remain calm. "But if we meet her again, I promise, I'll introduce you."

"It's not just that, Ginny. It's like you don't acknowledge me when we're around other people. Like you're more interested in what others have to say. You never look at me or try to involve me. Especially not with the Quidditch Team."

"I didn't know you felt like that. Why haven't you told me before?"

"I'm telling you now."

"I didn't realize I did that," she said, trying to think back to Quidditch practices. But the first image that flashed in her mind was watching Harry explain certain plays with moving figurines, or the image of the team huddled around while laughing to her taking the mickey out of Ron. If she was completely honest, she couldn't even remember where Dean had been sitting either time.

"Sometimes Ginny, if I'm being honest, it feels like you don't want me around. Or I'm not interesting to you," he said.

"Oh, I -" she started but was cut off.

"Look, you don't have to feel the need to explain yourself. It's just what I've noticed," he said dejectedly. "You're one of the most popular girls in school now. You're beautiful. And confident, brave, and fucking hilarious. I really thought we had something last term. When we're alone, we get on brilliantly. That always made me feel really secure in us. But when things happen, like with Gwenog Jones, it just makes me feel like you don't see me."

It was Ginny's turn to avoid his gaze. She felt her cheeks burn with a mixture of guilt and angry frustration. Guilt that she'd made someone she cares about feel this way. And frustration that he'd been harboring all this in for what seemed like months. How could someone go so long without sharing how they felt?

"I don't know - I'm not sure of what to say," Ginny said, pulling her coat firmly around her. She was rocked to the side by a strong gust of cold winter wind.

"Do you still want to be with me?" he asked pointedly. He was looking straight at her. At once he seemed vulnerable with his soft and wide eyes, yet the way he stood felt like a confrontation. Finally the Slughorn argument made more sense. Hermione was right, of course, he seemed insecure. Which annoyed Ginny to no end. But looking in his dark eyes felt like warmth and comfort. It made her feel like making hot chocolate and curling into a ball on a cough somewhere. It sounded like he simply wanted more attention. And if it was solely more attention he needed to bring them back to those first few weeks of the relationship, that's something she reckoned she could try.

"Yes," she said. "Yes, I do. I still like you, Dean."

He let out a breath he'd been holding and smiled. "I like you too, Ginny." He closed the gap between them and swept her up into a hug. Hesitantly, he leaned down and gave her a small, quick kiss.

"Let's forget it happened. I want to go back to how things felt in the beginning. Simple, easy, fun," he said. He ran his hand through her hair, tucking a loose strand behind her ear. "I'll try to be less sensitive, I promise."

"No, no. It's fine. This is my first long term relationship. With Michael it wasn't - we weren't - well, I didn't know him as well as I know you," she finished lamely.

Dean smirked, "Well I would like to know you more." Ginny smiled and gently pushed him in the arm.

"Not here, its fucking freezing," she said. Finally, she got her arm to wrap around his and she led him back to the Common Room. They walked quickly, chatting about his time with family back in the Muggle world. Ginny only half listened. Just before making the last turn to the corridor with the Fat Lady, he stopped her.

"Ginny, I do want to let it all go. I really do. I care about you so much," he said, taking her hands in his. "You're my first serious girlfriend. And I want to do it right."

She nodded. "I do too." He leaned down and kissed her again for several long moments. Ginny felt flushed with relief as he pushed her gently against the cold stone wall. Maybe all the awkwardness and tension would dissipate now. They could just move on. But some part of her also couldn't help but feel sad. For all their hopes that they could return to how it had been before, she knew something had been lost. The new relationship glow had been snuffed out. It felt like something fundamental had been lost between them. Like that time that they'd fumbled a pass of the Quaffle, and couldn't quite trust each other for the rest of practice. But it was nice to be back on speaking terms.