“Take your girlfriend down, Malfoy, or die trying,” Zabini had sneered.
“She’s a Chaser, and I’m a Seeker. What the bloody hell am I supposed to do?” Draco had cried.
But of course no one had any answers. They never did.
Ginny wasn’t by his side this morning because she was busy prepping for the Quidditch match with the rest of her team. Draco knew because he’d dragged her out of bed, and she’d told him she would be sitting with the team this morning instead of at her usual spot next to him at the Slytherin table.
Granger was busy braiding Ginny’s hair into French plaits to try and tame it. Everyone always talked about how wild Granger’s hair was, but Ginny’s hair seemed to be it’s own living thing. It hummed at times, and sometimes Draco would lie awake watching Ginny sleep, softly brushing her hair, running his fingers through the curly red strands softly with wonder. Not that he would ever admit to that to anyone else.
But today was the match, and Ginny’s hair was not cooperating with Granger, but Ginny was oblivious as she gave Draco a thumbs up and mouthed the words good luck to him. Funny, coming out of their common room she’d told him she was going to single handedly kick his ass. Coffee must have made her nicer. That or she couldn’t keep up a combative spirit to save her life.
Draco spent breakfast being ignored for the most part, and munching on toast. With Potter gone, and McLaggen as Seeker, Draco felt he stood a good chance of winning against the Gryffindor team. Really, McLaggen? Why had he even come back? Send him away. He had a thing for Granger, and she was dodging him at almost every turn.
“Oi! Malfoy!” Zabini yelled, ushering to him that they—the team—were making their leave. Draco drained his coffee and followed suit. Today’s match was sure to be interesting.
~~~
“So it’s not weird to be playing against him?” Hermione asked as she pulled Ginny’s hair and pulled it hard. But the redhead was used to Hermione’s heavy handed treatment of her hair. In fact, everyone who did her hair seemed to have difficulty with it.
“Not really. He’s a Seeker. I’m playing Chaser. I mean I’m singlehandedly going to win the game, as I told him, because I know McLaggen stands no chance against Draco, but it’s not weird or anything. Friendly competition,” Ginny said, shoving a piece of toast in her mouth.
She glanced over at Draco and gave him the thumbs up and mouthed good luck. She had been a bit rude this morning, but she was competitive. She was good at Quidditch, and she wanted to win because she wanted to prove she could. Or die trying to score so many points it blew Gwenog Jones’ mind, as she would be there today. For once, Ginny was glad she turned down the Seeker position. She wasn’t sure how she’d feel going head to head with Draco. He was too good, second only to Harry, who was damn good. No, this was Katie Bell’s headache as Quidditch Captain. And she looked nauseated as she sat there, not eating or drinking anything. But her team was going against the best Seeker in the school, after the most legendary Seeker for their team had just left to pursue his Auror ambitions. Wasn’t that enough to make anyone nervous?
“How’s Harry?” Ginny asked conversationally.
Hermione sighed. “Heart-broken, but he will live. He’s thrown himself into work. And Ron is there for him, so I’m sure he is going to be fine. How are you? I know this can’t be easy for you.”
Ginny tilted her head and had Hermione immediately correct her.
“It’s really not that hard. I can see why Draco and I were best friends. That is still all there. I could talk to him for hours. He just gets it, in a way Harry doesn’t. Harry went through the war, but he isn’t scarred by it, so he doesn’t understand people who are. I am, and so is Draco. It changed us. Harry just became an even better, more selfless person. Draco and I got mad at the world. So he can let me vent without judging me. And Hermione, I know you’re going to say Harry doesn’t judge me, but I feel like he should. It’s just… weird. But with Draco it’s normal.”
Hermione was quiet a moment as she finished Ginny’s hair, and Ginny ate a donut, needing strength for her match, so she told herself.
“That’s really all that matters then, Ginny. It’s how you feel about him. At the end of the day, it’s you and him. Not your brothers or parents and him. Remember that. Family is just a bonus,” Hermione advised.
Katie ran up to Ginny, broomstick in hand. Ginny had Harry’s old Firebolt—perks of being the Chosen One meant every time a new broom came out he got one for free—and was ready when Katie told her it was time.
They made their way to the locker room, McLaggen smirking the whole way.
“Weasley, hope you won’t be too mad when I wipe the field with your boyfriend,” he joked and Ginny wondered if she could get away with hexing him.
“Not if he takes you down first,” she said sweetly instead.
“Not likely,” McLaggen huffed, and turned away from Ginny as though she, the girl who was being scouted by a professional Quidditch team, didn’t know a thing about the sport.
Thank the Gods Hermione had decided to date her brother and not this hulking idiot. Ginny wasn’t sure she would have been able to handle McLaggen as part of the package deal. He was also the sole reason she had passed on being captain. Not that she didn’t want it, she did. But him? She would have killed him by now. She just wanted to play Quidditch. She didn’t care about tactics. Let the captains figure that out. She would do what she was yelled at to do, and play until her hands were bloody if need be.
She shrugged her Quidditch robes on, and grabbed her hand me down broom—like everything else in her life was—and headed for the line at the front of the locker room.
And really, the adrenaline kicked in the moment they went onto the field. Everyone screaming. Most of the school for them, but there was Luna, half her face red, the other half green, in the commentator’s box.
“Today we have Gryffindor versus Slytherin, which should be interesting because Draco and Ginny are a thing now. A very serious thing, inside sources named Ginny tell me,” Luna said.
And Ginny caught Draco’s eye, and they were both laughing, so no, this wasn’t weird. In fact, as the captains shook hands, Ginny had the distinct feeling that this was going to be the funnest match yet.
“McLaggen and Draco circling for the Snitch, in case it pops up ten seconds into the game like it did one time for Harry Potter. Anyone else remember that?” Luna asked.
Meanwhile Ginny was scoring goal after goal. Blaise, who played Keeper, was looking at her as though he wanted to strangle her, but Ginny was good. Soon the Slytherin team were aiming all Bludgers directly at Ginny, and she was dodging and spiraling and twisting through the air, playing her best yet. She felt jubilant and high on the game. The crowd was cheering her on. Every time she scored they got louder. It was insane in the best way possible.
And when Draco caught the snitch, Ginny couldn’t even feign being angry at him. He had beat McLaggen there by a good five seconds, which was a lot in Quidditch. And the ringing in Ginny’s ears was loud, the rush of blood was screaming, demanding she listen as landed, marched up to Draco bloody Malfoy, grabbed the front of his Quidditch robes, stood on her tiptoes, and kissed him like she wasn’t sure she was ever going to get another chance to kiss him again.
And if he responded by dropping his broom and scooping her up, one hand immediately tangling itself in the loose hair that was available, a groan escaping from his mouth into hers? Well that was even better. The whole school watching be damned.
Ginny almost missed Luna saying, “Well, I did say it was pretty serious. I’m thinking a June wedding, but I could be wrong.”
“She’s a Chaser, and I’m a Seeker. What the bloody hell am I supposed to do?” Draco had cried.
But of course no one had any answers. They never did.
Ginny wasn’t by his side this morning because she was busy prepping for the Quidditch match with the rest of her team. Draco knew because he’d dragged her out of bed, and she’d told him she would be sitting with the team this morning instead of at her usual spot next to him at the Slytherin table.
Granger was busy braiding Ginny’s hair into French plaits to try and tame it. Everyone always talked about how wild Granger’s hair was, but Ginny’s hair seemed to be it’s own living thing. It hummed at times, and sometimes Draco would lie awake watching Ginny sleep, softly brushing her hair, running his fingers through the curly red strands softly with wonder. Not that he would ever admit to that to anyone else.
But today was the match, and Ginny’s hair was not cooperating with Granger, but Ginny was oblivious as she gave Draco a thumbs up and mouthed the words good luck to him. Funny, coming out of their common room she’d told him she was going to single handedly kick his ass. Coffee must have made her nicer. That or she couldn’t keep up a combative spirit to save her life.
Draco spent breakfast being ignored for the most part, and munching on toast. With Potter gone, and McLaggen as Seeker, Draco felt he stood a good chance of winning against the Gryffindor team. Really, McLaggen? Why had he even come back? Send him away. He had a thing for Granger, and she was dodging him at almost every turn.
“Oi! Malfoy!” Zabini yelled, ushering to him that they—the team—were making their leave. Draco drained his coffee and followed suit. Today’s match was sure to be interesting.
~~~
“So it’s not weird to be playing against him?” Hermione asked as she pulled Ginny’s hair and pulled it hard. But the redhead was used to Hermione’s heavy handed treatment of her hair. In fact, everyone who did her hair seemed to have difficulty with it.
“Not really. He’s a Seeker. I’m playing Chaser. I mean I’m singlehandedly going to win the game, as I told him, because I know McLaggen stands no chance against Draco, but it’s not weird or anything. Friendly competition,” Ginny said, shoving a piece of toast in her mouth.
She glanced over at Draco and gave him the thumbs up and mouthed good luck. She had been a bit rude this morning, but she was competitive. She was good at Quidditch, and she wanted to win because she wanted to prove she could. Or die trying to score so many points it blew Gwenog Jones’ mind, as she would be there today. For once, Ginny was glad she turned down the Seeker position. She wasn’t sure how she’d feel going head to head with Draco. He was too good, second only to Harry, who was damn good. No, this was Katie Bell’s headache as Quidditch Captain. And she looked nauseated as she sat there, not eating or drinking anything. But her team was going against the best Seeker in the school, after the most legendary Seeker for their team had just left to pursue his Auror ambitions. Wasn’t that enough to make anyone nervous?
“How’s Harry?” Ginny asked conversationally.
Hermione sighed. “Heart-broken, but he will live. He’s thrown himself into work. And Ron is there for him, so I’m sure he is going to be fine. How are you? I know this can’t be easy for you.”
Ginny tilted her head and had Hermione immediately correct her.
“It’s really not that hard. I can see why Draco and I were best friends. That is still all there. I could talk to him for hours. He just gets it, in a way Harry doesn’t. Harry went through the war, but he isn’t scarred by it, so he doesn’t understand people who are. I am, and so is Draco. It changed us. Harry just became an even better, more selfless person. Draco and I got mad at the world. So he can let me vent without judging me. And Hermione, I know you’re going to say Harry doesn’t judge me, but I feel like he should. It’s just… weird. But with Draco it’s normal.”
Hermione was quiet a moment as she finished Ginny’s hair, and Ginny ate a donut, needing strength for her match, so she told herself.
“That’s really all that matters then, Ginny. It’s how you feel about him. At the end of the day, it’s you and him. Not your brothers or parents and him. Remember that. Family is just a bonus,” Hermione advised.
Katie ran up to Ginny, broomstick in hand. Ginny had Harry’s old Firebolt—perks of being the Chosen One meant every time a new broom came out he got one for free—and was ready when Katie told her it was time.
They made their way to the locker room, McLaggen smirking the whole way.
“Weasley, hope you won’t be too mad when I wipe the field with your boyfriend,” he joked and Ginny wondered if she could get away with hexing him.
“Not if he takes you down first,” she said sweetly instead.
“Not likely,” McLaggen huffed, and turned away from Ginny as though she, the girl who was being scouted by a professional Quidditch team, didn’t know a thing about the sport.
Thank the Gods Hermione had decided to date her brother and not this hulking idiot. Ginny wasn’t sure she would have been able to handle McLaggen as part of the package deal. He was also the sole reason she had passed on being captain. Not that she didn’t want it, she did. But him? She would have killed him by now. She just wanted to play Quidditch. She didn’t care about tactics. Let the captains figure that out. She would do what she was yelled at to do, and play until her hands were bloody if need be.
She shrugged her Quidditch robes on, and grabbed her hand me down broom—like everything else in her life was—and headed for the line at the front of the locker room.
And really, the adrenaline kicked in the moment they went onto the field. Everyone screaming. Most of the school for them, but there was Luna, half her face red, the other half green, in the commentator’s box.
“Today we have Gryffindor versus Slytherin, which should be interesting because Draco and Ginny are a thing now. A very serious thing, inside sources named Ginny tell me,” Luna said.
And Ginny caught Draco’s eye, and they were both laughing, so no, this wasn’t weird. In fact, as the captains shook hands, Ginny had the distinct feeling that this was going to be the funnest match yet.
“McLaggen and Draco circling for the Snitch, in case it pops up ten seconds into the game like it did one time for Harry Potter. Anyone else remember that?” Luna asked.
Meanwhile Ginny was scoring goal after goal. Blaise, who played Keeper, was looking at her as though he wanted to strangle her, but Ginny was good. Soon the Slytherin team were aiming all Bludgers directly at Ginny, and she was dodging and spiraling and twisting through the air, playing her best yet. She felt jubilant and high on the game. The crowd was cheering her on. Every time she scored they got louder. It was insane in the best way possible.
And when Draco caught the snitch, Ginny couldn’t even feign being angry at him. He had beat McLaggen there by a good five seconds, which was a lot in Quidditch. And the ringing in Ginny’s ears was loud, the rush of blood was screaming, demanding she listen as landed, marched up to Draco bloody Malfoy, grabbed the front of his Quidditch robes, stood on her tiptoes, and kissed him like she wasn’t sure she was ever going to get another chance to kiss him again.
And if he responded by dropping his broom and scooping her up, one hand immediately tangling itself in the loose hair that was available, a groan escaping from his mouth into hers? Well that was even better. The whole school watching be damned.
Ginny almost missed Luna saying, “Well, I did say it was pretty serious. I’m thinking a June wedding, but I could be wrong.”
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