Ginny stood wide eyed in a rapidly filling Holyhead Harpies stadium. Excited witches and wizards cheered loudly all around. The dark green of the Harpies supporters clashed harshly with the bright orange of the Cannon's fanatic fans; Ron and herself being the perfect example. He wore the customary orange shirt with a large cannonball on the front and back. Ginny on the other hand wore a dark green stylish Harpies blouse. The new material, something almost unheard of in the Weasley family, felt soft against her skin.

"Thanks, dad!" Ginny had to scream up at her father. "I can't believe I'm at my first game. And a cup final!"

Mr Weasley beamed down at her. "You deserve it." He let his hand settle on her shoulder. She knew why he'd gone through all this trouble to get them tickets. He'd need to work overtime to pay for them, let alone the two shirts he'd bought, but that was her father. He'd sacrifice everything he had to make his children smile. "Fourth year for you, Ginny." He smiled. "And Ron with his OWLS."

"Love you, dad," she hugged him tightly. Those were not the reasons for him spoiling them, but it made for a good excuse.

They were early, though the number fans in the stadium would have a person thinking themselves late. She'd begged her father to bring them early even though it meant an extra hour at the stadium. He'd obliged of course.

She stared up into the air and straight towards the reason for her desire to be here now. High above sat a lonely Potter on his broom. He flew around in the most amazing, yet lazy, arcs through the sky. He always did it, a mystery almost as great as the man himself. His pale orange practise jersey billowed about behind him. His goggles pressed up against his forehead.

He dove down low and circled the pitch. For a few brief moments he'd barely been a few feet from her. "Blimey," Ron said in amazement. "That's class."

"And incredibly handsome," Ginny whispered to herself with a blush. Despite all her fears, he'd always drawn her in. All too soon his display came to an end and then he disappeared into the stadium. She sighed regretfully, but it had been worth the effort.

The seats around them began to fill rapidly.

"Ginny!" A boy's voice called out. She felt her insides twist. Why couldn't boys just ignore her? Briefly images of a dark chamber became vivid in her mind. Her knees buckled and she fell into her seat.

"Leave her alone you gits!" Ron shouted at the two passing boys. They were her brother's friends. Dean and Seamus, nice boys really. She shivered slightly, Tom's touch on her mind felt so fresh. Would she ever be able to let another man near her?

"Thanks, Ron," she whispered after the other two were gone. She'd heard Ron speaking to them for a minute or two. Luckily her father had gone to get some refreshments and missed the encounter. She tried hard to be brave before he parents.

Ron seemed unsure of what to do. His hand awkwardly patted her shoulder. "Ah, no problem, Ginny. They're just trying to be nice."

"I know." She sighed.

"Me too," Ron replied. "You're strong, you'll get through this."

"Thanks," she said with surprising strength. "One day."

Their father returned. "Here's your drinks." He winked at Ginny and slipped a packet of chocolate frogs into her pocket. They were expensive, but her father knew she was on the lookout for a special card.

The Harpies flew out first and the stadium erupted with wild cheers and screams. "They look incredible!" Ginny shouted as she clambered up onto her seat to see over the wizard before her. She ticked off the names of every witch. They were all her favourite.

The Cannon's supporters, including Ron to her shame, roared as the bright Orange clad players followed her team onto the pitch. There lead Chaser flew at out of the stadium recklessly. They cheered him on.

Potter came out slowly. He'd never been one for show. She admired him for that. Finding the Snitch was his duty and he took it seriously, just like Ginny did when flying against her brothers or for the Gryffindor team. She'd won all four games this year allowing her House to win the Cup.

The game got underway. It was breath-taking. Chasers and Beaters competed at blinding speeds. Both Seekers jostled each other in the sky. Harry led the woman into at least three faints that she saw. There might have been more. The game was just so much faster than at Hogwarts that she had a hard time keeping track.

And then Harry dove for the pitch. He was barely a speck in the distance and a moment later he was pulling up before her. His hand raised high and the Snitch sat neatly in it. She felt her heart beating wildly and her cheeks flush. "Merlin. That was incredible!" Ginny shouted. The scoreboard stood on 410 to 390. The Cannon's had won.

Beside her Ron was euphoric. He was jumping up and down while shouting at the top of his lungs. It was their first trophy in centuries practically.

"A pity, they only needed to score a few more times," her father consoled Ginny.

"With a catch like that it would've been a shame if they lost." Ginny managed to say, but she did feel crestfallen.

Her father smiled. "Perhaps when you play for the Harpies, they'll take the cup again."

Ginny snorted. "Like that'll ever happen."

They decided to not follow the crowd out. Mainly because Ginny began to feel claustrophobic around all the wizards. Ron and her father made sure to keep some space around her while the people moved passed.

"Dad," Ron's eyes were pleading. "The team. They're down there. Can I go see them... please!"

"If Ginny doesn't mind going down with us." He looked worried, but Ron was bouncing up and down excitedly.

Ginny eyed the crowd by the entrance. "I'll just go sit down by the pitch," she said. "I'm not going to ruin Ron's chance."

"You sure?" her father asked.

"There's security down there," Ginny said. "And I've always wanted to see the Pitch up close."

It took a bit more to convince her father, but eventually she was sitting all alone on the last row of benches. The grass stretched out before her and the hoops towered above. The gentle breeze blowing over her face had her almost believing. Her hand ducked into her pocket and pulled out the last chocolate frog her father had bought.

"Those taste better in your mouth than in the wrapping." A gentle voice spoke from behind. She fiddled with it a while longer and then pulled off the wrapping and took a bite. The small card inside the frog stuck out.

"Which one?" the voice asked. His shadow hung over her.

She pulled it out slowly and her breath caught. "Potter," she said with a happy sigh. "My father will be pleased."

"So you wanted someone else?" he asked. She stared down at the moving picture of Harry as he flew around on the card.

"No, I wanted him," she said slowly. "But my dad spent a lot to get us here today and he really wanted me to get this card." She stared back up at the sky. "What I really want is to fly up there one day."

"Perhaps one day you will."

She looked up to see a black haired man walking away. His head hung. When she turned she found a Harpies scarf draped across her seat.

"Mister," she called out. The man stopped and turned to face her. He had tears in his eyes. "You... um... scarf."

Potter smiled and for a moment she saw a similarity in his gaze. "Keep it," he smiled. "The colour suits you." He gave a small wave and walked out onto the pitch and Apparated away.

/**/3 Years Later

Ginny Weasley stood in her room staring up at a poster of Harry Potter. The scarf he'd her given hung over the bed. The man on the broom looked determined and in his hand he held a golden snitch. It was an old poster, but it remained Ginny's favourite. The picture had been taken four seasons ago when Harry caught the Snitch at the end of a nail biting final against the Harpies. It had been the first championship the Chudley Canons had won in over a century. She still wrinkled her nose at the colour.

She had a thing for him, a crush of sorts, before that final. The scarf, however, had allowed her to grow up in a strange sort of way. She had used it to drive her passion for Quidditch. Always in the back of her mind his words repeated themselves.

She let her mind forget about the scarf and began to dress. She struggled with the buttons on her new green blouse as her hands trembled slightly. "Get a grip," she said angrily to herself. "What will she think if I can't even dress myself?" The words vented some tension and soon the her clothes sat properly.

Ginny scowled when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. A tangle of garish red hair framed a freckled face. Ugly brown eyes stared back. She stuck her tongue out at herself, but quickly sucked it back in. There was something in the reflection to be proud of. Stitched just above the bottom left hem of her shirt was a Harpies emblem, a golden talon. She felt her giddiness return and laughed. It felt good to let her emotions go a little.

Downstairs the kitchen was quiet except for her mother who busied herself cleaning.

"Morning, mum," Ginny greeted as she slipped into one of the wooden chairs by the kitchen table. A plate of food, magically warmed, lay waiting like so many breakfasts before.

"Big day," her mother smiled. Mrs Weasley stopped cleaning the enormous pile of dirty plates, left by Ron and her father, to sit across from her daughter.

Ginny took a nervous bite of toast. The effects of the laugh faded quickly in the quiet of the house. "A big day," she repeated.

"Kind of early in the year for teams to start practising," her mother said.

"I know, but being my first year on the team, Gwenog thought that I would need a few extra weeks. We talked about this all last month, mum."

Her mother sighed. "I know, dear. It's just…" her eyes grew moist, "My little girl is growing up and about to start her own life."

"I'll still be staying here," Ginny soothed. "I just need to get through this training, which Gwenog said was going to be hell on earth." Her coach's words made her shiver. Ginny's nerves were on tenterhooks already and she'd not even left the house.

"It'll be alright, Ginny," her mother spoke with the same knowing as always.

"How can you be sure? She'll probably burn my contract before the end of the day. Look!" she said angrily while trying to point at her hand holding the toast. It trembled visibly. "I can't even keep my hand still. How am I going to fly a broom?"

"That is not the young woman I raised," Mrs Weasley said with passion. "You are a strong girl who can do whatever she sets her sights on." Ginny ducked her head and took another bite. How she coordinated the shaking hand and her mouth remained as much of a mystery as Harry Potter. "You were the star Seeker for Gryffindor. You won every game, never once unable to catch the Snitch. You are the girl who holds nearly every record in Hogwarts."

"Still going to get the sack in a day or two." This time there had been no conviction in her voice. Her mother always knew what to say. She glanced up at the clock and winced. "I better get going. I have to be there in a few minutes." She wolfed down the last of the toast and some eggs before rushing out of the door.

Just before she could Apparate away, her mother enveloped Ginny in a tight hug. "You've made us proud, dear. Whatever happens, know we've always been proud of you."

Ginny had to wipe away at the dampness on her cheeks. "I know, mum. Tell dad and Ron that I love them and I'll see them tonight."

"I will."

Ginny untangled herself from her mother's firm hold and Apparated.

She materialised on the Harpies Quidditch pitch. The grass felt thick and soft beneath her feet. The green seemed to travel forever. Gwenog had told her that under no circumstances would she be allowed to walk into the grounds. This training was secret. The public still did not know about Gwenog's new Seeker.

"Good," the stern voice of her new coach said from behind Ginny. She jumped slightly.

"Morning, Miss Jones," Ginny said awkwardly. This had not been the entrance she'd wanted on the first day. Being skittish was not her and she did not want to leave that impression.

"At least I know you can follow a simple instruction." She eyed Ginny critically, then the woman snorted and slapped Ginny on the shoulder. "Relax, girl. You're a Harpie now. We take care of each other."

"Umm, thank you, Miss Jones."

"None of that, girl. To the public I'm the bitch called Coach Jones, to you I'm Gwenog. We Harpies try to keep things informal between us. Remember we're like family."

Ginny barely managed to form the words. "I'll try my best, but years of idolising is not easy to get over, G… Gwenog," Ginny managed with a stutter and a slur.

The woman roared with laughter. "I like you, girl. You've got something." She patted her cheek in a way Ginny always imagined an older sister would. "Sweet and innocent."

"Not on a broom I'm not," Ginny replied with fierce determination.

Gwenog laughed even louder than before. "I bet you aren't."

Ginny frowned slightly as she waited for her coach to stop enjoying herself at Ginny's expense. "But I hope you can get past idols, girl. In this world everyone is famous. And after your first game you'll be as famous as the next." The woman smiled knowingly. "Posters. Wizards, and witches come to think of it, trying to get you in bed."

She nodded dumbly while waiting for something to do. "Now go get changed girl. Your new broom, ordered and sized to fit, and kit are waiting in the changing room."

Ginny said something that she could not remember and soon found herself inside the Harpies changing room. It was empty now. All except for the one corner where a new broom stood upright and a pale green practise jersey hung. 'Weasley' was emblazoned on the back.

With an eagerness she'd not felt since learning her father had bought tickets to the Quidditch final, she undressed and slipped into her new kit. Shin guards and all other manner of bodily protection items were neatly piled beneath her jersey. Not knowing what to expect, she put them all on. "It's always easier to just take them off," she muttered to herself.

It felt like floating as she walked down the corridor back to the pitch. She could only hold her breath as she emerged onto the field again. It felt different. For the first time she walked onto the ground, not as a girl, nor even a recruit, but a Harpie. Glancing down at the broom in her hand, she could see her name etched in gold on the handle.

Gwenog still stood in the middle of the pitch, so Ginny walked up to her. "I'm ready for anything you can throw at me," Ginny said with an air of arrogance.

"I hope you are, girl," the woman replied. "But I am afraid I have meetings to attend today. Arrangements and sponsorship deals need to be finalised before the season begins."

"But, I thought this month was for training."

"It is, dear," Gwenog smiled. "I'm just not the coach you need right now."

"I didn't know the Harpies had another coach," Ginny frowned.

"We don't," the woman grinned insufferably. "Not to the public or any of the other players that is."

"So who is she?" Ginny asked with trepidation. She'd mentally prepared herself all month for working with the legendary Gwenog Jones. Now she was being handed off to some second rate amateur. Some old hag who didn't know a handle from a twig.

Gwenog peered over Ginny's head and smiled. "Here he is now."

Ginny turned round to see a tallish man, with a very athletic build, walking towards them. Her eyes narrowed then widened.

"Bloody hell." Her jaw dropped open. "How'd you get him?" It came out all wrong she was sure.

"Long story," Gwenog laughed. Somehow she must have understood.

Harry kept walking towards Ginny. His build so familiar despite her having only seen him so close once. Flying goggles, pushed up above his eyes, made his hair stick up wildly, but maybe that was just how his hair always behaved. Well used and abused padding covered his body.

She blinked in further surprise, none of the usual garish orange could be seen anywhere. Eventually he came to halt before them. His face betraying nothing, but his green eyes never left Ginny. They were narrowed slightly, not in anger or resentment, rather they were considering.

Gwenog coughed to clear her throat from laughing. "Ginny I'd like you to meet your private coach for the next month, Harry Potter."

Ginny held out her hand tentatively and Harry took it. The touch felt warm and hard. She could feel the familiar calluses, similar on her own fingers and palms; the result of Quidditch being a passion. Still, her hands felt soft against his.

"A pleasure to meet you, Mr Potter." Harry's mouth quirked slightly in seeming amusement.

Gwenog interrupted before he could speak. "Harry, this is our new talent, Ginny Weasley."

"Nice to meet you, Miss Weasley," he said and finally let go of her hand. His brief smile waned. "And please, call me Harry."

"Then I insist on being called Ginny," she replied with more confidence than the butterflies in her stomach would have indicated.

He grinned slightly again, but made no reply. "I think I'll leave the two of you to get to know each other." Gwenog took a single step then stopped. "I hope you remember your contract, Ginny. You may speak to no one about these sessions. Not even family. Do I make myself clear?"

"Of course, Gwenog." Ginny cringed at using her coaches' first name before Harry.

The woman smiled as if knowing why Ginny felt distressed. "Good." Then with a single motion of her wand the woman vanished with a feint pop.

Ginny's nerves returned fall force. She stood alone in the middle of the Harpies Quidditch pitch, which was bad enough on its own, with none other than the mystical Harry Potter standing behind her. He was an enigma to the wizarding world. And yet she had seen something of him no reporter ever had. She'd seen him with tears in his eyes.

She slowly pivoted round to face him. Her intake of breath had to have been audible. This close she found him even more attractive than on any of his posters. His dishevelled appearance only added to the charm. His hand gripped the broom beside him and his expression was once again contemplative as he studied her. It made her wonder why he'd retired so quickly at the end of last season. Nothing seemed wrong with him. He could walk, and if his broom and padding were any indication then he could still fly.

"So what do you have planned for me today, H… Harry," she managed with a wince. She really needed to get over the use of first names.

His oddly sad green eyes turned away. "Today?" He talked more to himself. "I just want us to fly," he added softly.

He dug into his pocket and removed a Golden Snitch. Without looking at her, he let go and the little winged ball fluttered away. "Ready for a few games between Seekers?" He spoke the words with longing. It was the first time she actually saw him give a genuine smile. It wasn't fake like the one on his poster or as faint as the few he gave earlier. This was honest, even if it didn't fully reach his eyes.

"I hope you're ready, Mr Potter," she laughed before shooting into the air.

"Don't worry about me, Miss Weasley," he shouted after her.

Ginny raced into the air and began her tried and tested, unbeaten, methodology of finding the Snitch. Her keen eyes scanned the field for any sign of glittering gold. "I'll show you what I've got, Harry," she said fiercely to herself.

A few minutes later, a lazy looking Harry floated up beside her. "Seen it yet?" he asked casually. "These professional Snitches can be quite elusive."

"No," she said while trying hard not to lose focus. "The thing is rather sneaky." Never once did she stop her search.

"Ok, well I hope you are more attentive in the second game," he chuckled apologetically.

"What!" Her broom stopped with a jerk. "Ouch!" she shouted as her head nearly left her shoulders.

"Careful, these professional brooms tend to be rather responsive."

She rubbed the back of her neck while looking at Harry. He wore a satisfied grin. The worst, however, sat in his hand — the Golden Snitch.

"Cheat!" she roared.

His green eyes darkened. "I don't cheat. Ever." There was no anger, nor did he raise his voice, but the words were said with meaning. "Welcome to the world of professional Quidditch, Ginevra Weasley." She winced at the use of her full name and the talk. "This is not a school game, this is not a local Sunday club bash. This is the toughest league in the country and perhaps in the world." She nodded, sobering up quickly. "I've seen you fly, Ginny," Harry added. "Gwenog took me to your last game at Hogwarts. I saw then what I'm telling you now. You have the talent, but you'll need to work hard before you can make it is this league." He spoke in a firm commanding voice that left her feeling optimistic and not demoralised.

"I think I understand," Ginny replied. She gripped her broom tightly. Harry knew how to make a point.

He smiled that same half happy, half sad smile again and she wondered what bothered him so much. What had brought him to tears so many years ago? "Ready?" he asked. When she felt up to the next game, he let go of the Snitch.

Ginny only returned home once the sun had set far enough for it to become too dark to see the Snitch. After arriving she ran to her room without wanting to talk to anybody. She would never be able to face her family again, not after today.

"Ginny!" her father called out. She ignored him. The pounding of her feet on the stairs was satisfying. She slammed her door shut and jumped onto the bed. Her face hid itself in a pillow. It was then that she let the scream free that had been stuck in her throat for the past few hours. Tears began to form. She only hoped her pillow would be able to absorb it all.

Thankfully her family left her alone. They knew Ginny and understood she needed time alone. All they'd get out of her now would be a Bat-Bogey hex. She continued to cry, thinking all the while how nice and caring Harry had been. The thought only made the day worse. The vicious cycle continued until she drifted off to sleep.

She woke to the sound of her door opening. It was now completely dark outside. The smell of dinner hung in the air. Either her mother finished it now or Ginny had not noticed it while barging into the house.

"She looks better?" She heard Ron whisper to their mother.

"Ginny, when you feel up to it, dinner is ready." A single set of feet walked down the stairs. Ron had remained. She could almost feel his presence.

Her bed shifted slightly and a comforting hand rubbed her shoulder. "It's alright, Ginny. Whatever happened it's alright." She pushed her face into the pillow and shouted again

as she kicked her legs about. His words were enough to bring out another rush of emotions and frustration. "At least there is some anger in you," Ron chuckled nervously. "That's got to count for something."

Her feet stopped flailing about and she allowed herself to turn over. Ron sat beside her and the low light in the room illuminated a pale and worried face.

"So what did Old Gwenog do to you today?" Ron asked.

"Nothing," she sighed angrily. She could not be angry at Ron. "The whole day was just bloody humiliating. That's all." She scowled at how kind Harry had tried to be about the whole experience. The man had a good heart.

His grip tightened defensively. "If they did anything to…"

"Nothing like that!" she shouted quickly. Harry would never do anything to hurt her. She shook her head wondering where that thought had come from. "We just flew around and I got trounced every single bloody bleeding time."

"Blimey," Ron muttered in pure astonishment. The lack of a stronger word emphasised his shock. His eyes were wide "I didn't think you could lose. I mean even at thirteen when you flew against Charlie you never lost a game."

Ginny thought for a while. "My contract binds me to secrecy, but I think telling you that I lost all seventeen one-on-one games today doesn't breech anything."

"Bloody hell, Ginny," he said in bewilderment. "You lost seventeen games?"

She nodded in shame. "Seventeen bloody games straight."

"No wonder you're crying like a girl."

She hit him on the shoulder. "Prat!"

Ron began to laugh. "You lost a game!" It didn't seem like he could help himself. He roared with laughter. "Blimey that feels good."

"Losing is not funny, Ron," she said trying to sound angry, but his laughing was infectious.

"I know it's not," he continued to chuckle. "It's tragic. But…" He sounded in awe. "It proves you're human." He ruffled her hair in a way she hated. "My little sister is human!" he shouted.

"Oi, I take offense to such terms. I'm a Harpy." She tried her best to keep from laughing, but the grin proved impossible to hide. Then her arms were around her brother's neck. "Thank you, Ron." Her voice soft.

"What are irritating brothers for if not to help their little sister?" Ron replied as he pulled her into a brotherly hug. When he let go he kept his hands on her shoulders and

stared deeply into her eyes. "Now I want you to go back out there tomorrow and do your best. Whatever Gwenog is doing it's going to work. Losing is the surest way to learn, Ginny. Absorb as much as you can."

"When did my little brother become so wise?" she said with a slight hint of admiration in her voice. Ron had always been a blubbering idiot, well most of the time.

He let go of her shoulder and shyly rubbed his where her blow had fallen while unsuccessfully trying to hide a blush.

"It's Hermione isn't it," Ginny squeaked. "You've been seeing her, haven't you?"

"Maybe," Ron muttered.

She threw her arms around his neck again. "She's perfect for you."

"Too bloody perfect that one," Ron muttered. "But thanks, Ginny."

They sat in silence each in their own world of thoughts until Ginny broke the spell. "I think we better get down. Dinner smells divine." As if to prove the point her stomach growled.

They sat down around the dinner table. Her father and mother did not ask anything. "I'm just a little frustrated with myself," Ginny said hoping to break the awkwardness.

"So nothing bad happened."

"Nothing that I won't learn from." This time she did smile. "My contract has not been burned and I'm still well on my way to playing in the opening game." She elbowed Ron. "When I'll trounce all over your beloved Chudley Cannons."

Ron seemed torn in two. "Only because we lost Harry," Ron said trying to regain some dignity.

Ginny burst out laughing. Her parents and Ron just stared at her while probably wondering how hard Ginny'd hit her head during the day; if they only knew.

"Merlin, Ron!" she choked out eventually. "I can't argue with you on that one."

Ginny arrived early the next morning ready for another good walloping from Harry. Being early, however, meant standing around waiting; something Ginny decided she was not very good at. She could have gone to get dressed, but not knowing what Harry had planned, if anything at all, she remained on the pitch.

The blue sky contained a few scattered clouds and the lack of wind made it ideal for flying. Anxiously, Ginny stood with nothing to do. She wished Harry would arrive so she could fly away her frustrations and show him that there was more to her flying. Her gaze went skywards; up there was where she truly felt free, especially when the breeze blew through her hair and caressed her face.

When he did arrive, he left her speechless.

The soft pop from behind indicated an arrival. Ginny turned slowly, not wanting to make it seem as if too eager. She expected him to be in his kit, like the day before. Instead, he wore khaki shorts and a light green Harpies t-shirt, the same one available at the stadium shop. It emphasized firm, but not bulky, muscles.

"Nice shirt," she blurted out. "Suits you better than Chudley orange." Her heartbeat quickened.

And there it was, a full smile reaching all the way up to his eyes. She'd been looking for it the entire day yesterday and never saw it. Sadly, it was gone before he even blinked. But in that brief moment it warmed a piece of her. "Doesn't take much to make a person look better. Believe me."

She laughed and the reward came with another faint smile. "Aren't we flying today?" she asked hesitantly when it didn't look like he was going to say anything.

His head snapped up as if he forgot that he was supposed to be the coach. "You'll be doing the work today, Ginny." The words came quickly as his coach demeanour returned slowly. "I watched you fly yesterday." She wondered where he'd found the time to study her. He lifted a hand absently and a broom came flying towards them. "Sorry, forgot it by the stands last night," he muttered looking slightly guilty.

Ginny's jaw dropped open slightly. "That was a wandless summoning charm," she half shrieked in disbelief. It was not unheard of, but only people like Dumbledore, top Aurors and a few Unspeakables did things like that.

"Oh, right," he muttered while running his hands through his messy black hair. "Where was I... Yes... I watched you yesterday, but never gave it my full attention. Today I want to watch you a bit more closely while working on a few things."

Like the day before, he dug his hand into his pocket and removed the Snitch. He did not let it go. "Go get your broom. No need for padding and stuff today. You're not going to chase the thing around in anger too much. Instead you'll be doing what you're supposed to be doing up there." He turned the Golden Snitch about with his fingers as he spoke.

"And what's that?" Ginny barely managed to say without snapping in anger before turning to leave for the changing room where her broom stood waiting.

His voice came from behind. "You are going to seek. You are going to learn to see without seeing." And just like that her anger faded and his words captivated her. She turned only to see him watching the small Snitch floating before him. Then his fingers closed around it absently. The long walk to get her broom didn't seem so bad as the eagerness within her began to grow.

When they were hovering well above the pitch, Harry let go of the Golden Snitch. It fluttered between them for a few seconds. Instead of looking at the wings she stared passed the floating ball and into the green, slightly haunted eyes of Harry. He was watching her as well. The Snitch darted towards the stands and Ginny turned away,

grateful to have somewhere else to be looking. His gaze lingered on her a moment longer, the weight of it could be felt. She waited while trying to find the ball again.

The moment stretched on forever. He said nothing and Ginny turned her broom towards him in confusion. Instead of looking at her, he sat staring out at nothing.

"Harry?" she asked softly. Her hand almost lifted off her handle to touch his face.

When he did speak his voice was soft. Almost like a man who had given up. "I want you to look around you. What do you see?" Harry asked.

Ginny wanted to reach out and hold his hand, but he was her coach and she barely knew him. She had to listen and so her eyes darted about for the Snitch.

His voice came out softly when he spoke again. "Forget about the little thing floating about, Ginny. You're not playing a game at the moment. I want to know what you see."

Tearing her mind away from the search for glittering gold, she allowed herself to truly take in her surroundings. "I see a green field with six hoops. Blue sky with white clouds. A stadium, empty, but with seats for thousands."

"That's it." He nodded slowly. "Now that you are starting to see the obvious things around you I want you to look further. Absorb the details." Harry whispered beside her.

A slight breeze began to blow, which buffeted them, but they were both rock solid on their brooms. Ginny glanced across to Harry. He was looking right at her and for the first time he seemed normal; just an average wizard sitting on broom.

Yet, at only twenty-two he had won four consecutive titles for the Chudley Cannons and never once lost a game or failed to catch the Snitch. Statistically he was the greatest player to have ever played the game. He barely missed the English team during the Quidditch World Cup just before her third year. Now, seeing as he was not playing, he would not make the team at the end of this season.

Trying to clear her mind from his past, Ron's words came back to her. "Absorb," she whispered with determination.

The more she looked, the more the world seemed to come into focus. Blurry items, that once before had been nothing but distractions, now became distinct entities in her mind.

"What do you see now?" Harry asked with a soft intensity that left her slightly breathless.

"A shed with strange red paint marks on the roof. White lines on the field. Alternating seats of Harpies green and gold, some broken. A commentator's box with glass windows reflecting the morning sun. A dark blue roof, paint chipping at places, covering the main stand. A little shop selling memorabilia with an enchanted witch, dressed in green, on a broom floating above it. I see…"

"Exactly," Harry shouted with delight. She swung around to face him. This time she saw a small element of pride in his eyes. "This is what I want you to do, Ginny. Before every game. Arrive early, warm-up quickly with your teammates and then study the world as the stands fill."

"That is what you always did," she said with sudden eagerness. "Everyone always wondered what you were doing up there. Those lazy circles that you drew in the air. It was this?" He nodded shyly. "But why?"

His head jerked up. "Seeing the Snitch is not about seeing the gold. It is about not seeing the rest of the world." He spoke with a strange passion and understanding. For a brief moment it sounded like he spoke about something else entirely. Almost like his life depended on the words he uttered. "When everything is familiar. When your mind can see and dismiss details because you know them then you can open your eyes to seeing what is not supposed to be there."

Ginny must've looked as confused as she felt. He sighed. "You'll figure it out eventually."

At the end of another long day a very confused Ginny arrived home.

"At least you look better today, dear," her mother said as Ginny entered the kitchen. "A slight frown, but no tears."

"Just confused, mum," Ginny replied as her tired body slumped into a chair by the kitchen table.

"How so?" her mother asked. She never stopped kneading the bread on the table.

Ginny shrugged. "Need some help?"

"I'll never say no." Mrs Weasley smiled.

Ginny removed her new woollen Harpies jersey and placed it well out of harm's way. Covering her hands with flour she took some of the dough and began to work it on the kitchen table.

"It helps, doesn't it?" She heard her mother say. Ginny could only nod.

Her mind never once focused on her hands. They just worked and did what needed to be done. What really captivated her attention was the brief smile she managed to get out of Harry that morning. The Harry Potter, star Seeker for the Cannons had genuinely laughed at something she, Ginny Weasley, had said.

"That's a nice smile, Ginny," her mother said breaking Ginny's reveries of emerald green eyes. "Gwenog must've said something nice today."

Ginny didn't reply. Gwenog was out of the country, signing deals, and would be so until the end of her training sessions with Harry. "It was a better day, mum," Ginny agreed.

"I'm glad to hear that, Ginny," her father's voice said from the kitchen door. She had not heard him come in. "So how's my little Harpy doing?" he asked sitting down by the table. "You look happy today."

"I am," she agreed. "Though this kneading might be the end of me." Her hands came away sticky.

"Anything you can tell us?" her father asked eagerly.

Ginny shook her head and shrugged. "The contract is really quite strict. Especially about this training month."

"A pity. I would've loved to hear more about the inner workings of the team."

Ginny grinned. "I think that's exactly the point, dad. Everyone wants to know what we're up to."

"True." Her father chuckled. "But I guess that's what makes the Harpies so special."

"Yes and that's why we signed Potter!" Ron bellowed as he came into the kitchen from somewhere within the house. "We needed something different." Ginny jerked at the mention of the name Potter. Fortunately, no one had been looking at her. She would have to play it much cooler. "The Cannon's took a bold step signing him. Coach McGill is a legend." Ron sat down next to his father.

"A pity about him not playing this year," Mrs Weasley said mournfully while slowly cleaning her hands. "I wish someone knew his story."

"Perhaps one day, Molly." Her father grinned at Ginny. They all knew her mother had a soft spot for Potter. She'd never admit it, however.

"As long as the blighter doesn't join some other team," Ron grumbled.

Ginny trembled slightly. "Just face it, Ron. Without him, your team is nothing."

"Oi, now listen here Miss Harpy. The Cannons are a strong outfit. Harry built a powerful team around him."

Ginny couldn't argue. When Harry first joined they won each game only because he managed to catch the Snitch before the lead could grow too much. "They are a pretty tightly knit team. They play well, but can they keep that up without their star?" she questioned.

"They'll keep it together," Ron said like a true fanatic. "Be on the look-out, Harpy." Ron tried to sound menacing.

Ginny feigned distress. "I'm shaking in my boots already."

After dinner, Ginny went to walk outside by herself. It was a cool evening. She wrapped her arms protectively around her waist even though the Harpies jersey was quite warm.

Harry Potter, the man who'd given her a scarf years ago, the man who was what she wanted to become, was now her coach. It made her stomach flutter with an odd excitement.

Ron's words of earlier stuck with her. Harry had built a strong team. He was the star, true, but he didn't stop there. He gradually moulded every man and witch in the team into a Quidditch star. Not a single member of the team had ever said anything else. She only had to look as far as their captain, Oliver Wood.

Ginny understood now what those players were talking about. Harry, reclusive and sad most of the time, had a presence. He only needed to say a few words for her to be affected, though the sadness in him worried her. Perhaps within the next few weeks she would learn more about him. She hoped she would.

Ginny stood on the pitch waiting for Harry to follow her down after the last drill of the day. It was Friday and the official end to a long week. She was knackered and didn't know if she would ever be able to sit on a broom again. Even her palms were sore as they clutched the broom beside her.

"I think you should take it easy this weekend, Ginny," Harry said as soon as he landed. He still wore shorts and a Harpies shirt as they had not flown in anger since the first day. Instead he had drilled something new into her each day. Dives, rolls, twists, spirals and a hoard of other moves. She of course could do them all, but he had helped refine her technique.

Ginny's head snapped up towards him and out of her reverie of pain. "Oh, I was actually looking forward to see… flying tomorrow." The blush was at least partially hidden by cheeks already red from flying.

The heat rose when Harry tried to hide a smile. "Um... perhaps we could just, you know, talk then." Harry offered. He did not meet her eyes. "I mean," he coughed slightly. "There is so much more to the game that doesn't need to be discussed while sitting on a broom. And you need to get a few things."

"That would be great," she said quickly. Perhaps a bit too eagerly she thought, but then again this was all new. "Should I meet you here?" she asked.

"Sure," he replied. "And, Ginny, leave the Harpies stuff at home."

"Right, Gwenog will kill me if I walked around in kit before the press release."

"Kill is a strong word." He grinned. "But she might skin you alive."

"Prat!" To her own surprise she punched his shoulder playfully.

The action elicited a broad smile and a laugh. "She's got spirit."

"Of course, Potter." Her eyes narrowed. "Never underestimate me."

He held up his hands in playful defensiveness. "Wouldn't dream of it."

The next morning could not come soon enough. She was going to spend a whole day, a good part of it at least, alone with Harry Potter. Of course she'd been alone with him each day for the past week, but the time had been spent on the back of a broom flying drills. This promised to be something more.

"Stop this," she mumbled to herself. "He's your coach. You're just going to talk. There's nothing."

"You alright, Ginny?" her mother asked.

Ginny froze, wondering how much her mother had heard. "Just thinking about training, mum." She let out a nervous chuckle. "So much to think about."

"Of course, dear." Mrs Weasley turned to leave, her arms full of laundry. "Just let me know if you need to talk."

Ginny muttered some more to herself while walking out the house, this time being careful to keep her words silent. Outside, she Apparated to the Harpies stadium.

The morning air bit at her and for once she was glad that she did not have to fly. Her backside had been sore the whole week, but the pain had been pushed aside amidst her concentration and determination to not let Harry down. It hit her now. While rubbing her back softly, her eyes scanned the pitch for Harry, not really expecting to find him. To her surprise she found him sitting alone in the grandstand. Wondering why he was up there by himself, she made her way towards him.

"Hi," she greeted shyly and immediately cursed herself. She'd been alone with him for a week, but then again she was not used to talking to guys alone. A cold shiver ran down her spine as she began to tense.

"Morning." He stood slowly as she approached. He wore jeans and a black shirt, which hugged his body without being tight. His eyes sparkled for a moment, and all the unease ebbed away. The smile did not last, however. She vowed to herself that one day she would bring the joy out within him for longer than a moment. "You look," he hesitated for a moment. "Beautiful."

"And you are the image of handsome," she replied before thinking. This time there was no physical training to hide the blush. "Um." She hurriedly continued to try and change the topic. "What do you have planned for me today, coach?"

He shrugged, looking oddly adorable in his awkwardness. His eyes did meet hers at least. "I thought a trip to London would be a nice change. There are a few things to do there."

"Diagon Alley?" she questioned. "Wouldn't people notice us? Well you, not me," she added incoherently.

"No, no," he said hastily, eyes wide in alarm. "Gwenog would skin me alive." She laughed at the reversal of the scenario they joked about the day before. The momentary panic stricken look on his face only added to her laughter.

She did, however, manage to ask, "So where to then?"

He looked down at his feet and kicked a small stone lying among the chairs. "The Muggle part. Not sure how well you know the place."

"Never been there," she answered honestly. "I don't think many of us magical folk have."

"Oh, well that's good... I guess." He muttered something under his breath. Then he held out a hand. "Do you mind if I Apparate us?"

"Oh, of course not," she blurted out. His hand felt like ice when she took hold of it. "You know where you're going after all."

He gave a weak smile. "Ready?" he asked just like when they were practising.

"Ready," she agreed. The world compressed and then they materialized in an abandoned alley, which she knew had to be a designated Apparation point into London.

They only needed to take a few steps before being swarmed by hundreds of people bustling about along the crowded street.

Her chest tightened. "Where are we?" she barely managed to ask. Even on the busiest day, Diagon Alley had never been this busy.

"Oxford Street," Harry answered slightly uneasily.

"What are we doing here?" she questioned. The mass of people around them made Ginny want to go home and hide in her room.

Even though she barely knew him, she thought his expression looked similar to hers. "I wasn't really expecting so many people," he tried to apologise. "But it could serve a purpose."

"What could all these people, bumping into me help?" The desire to be away only grew and her field of vision shrunk.

"Moving out of our comfort zone, Ginny." His voice sounded firm, but there seemed to a slight tremor in it that she had not heard before. He took hold of her hand and began to lead her up, or was it down, the street. "In Quidditch, you'll be playing against older men and women. They know the game. They'll move into your personal space." Somehow the words did not sound entirely directed at her.

His words, however, hit a chord. Ginny felt her chest tighten further. As a Seeker she'd never really been in the thick of the action. "But players never crowded around you."

"Of course they didn't," Harry said loudly to be heard over the sound of people and cars. "I projected an aura of such calm when they were in my face that they thought me unaffected."

"You weren't! No one could ever phase you."

Harry sounded nervous now. "That's what I wanted people to think." He stopped walking and spun her round so that his face was barely an inch away from hers. She inhaled deeply, taking in his scent. The warmth of his breath touched her lips. "I never let people close to me, Ginny. I become nervous when people come too near."

"But…" The word was soft. Maybe only her mouth moved as she stared deeply into his eyes. They held even more depth this close.

"I made people believe, Ginny. During that first season I fought with all my strength to project a part of me that did not exist." He pulled away and continued walking.

Muggles continued to crowd around them. Occasionally someone bumped into Ginny and Harry as they walked. Her grip around Harry's hand tightened. She dared not lose him in this mess. Then the world quieted down. She had grown so anxious that their entrance into a store had gone unnoticed.

The place was vast. "And now?" she questioned. Harry just kept throwing surprises at her.

"You need to do some shopping," Harry replied.

Her eyes widened in horror. "I don't have any money, Harry. The Harpies only start paying once the season starts."

He placed a tender hand on the back of her shoulder and kept leading her deeper into the store. "My treat, Ginny."

"No!" she almost shouted. Then her voice dropped pleadingly, "I can't be indebted to you, Harry."

"I'll get the money from Gwenog," he soothed. "This is for your training."

"Oh." Her mouth formed the word rather than saying it. "But how can clothes help me?"

"This is a sports store, Ginny." He began to explain. "You need some running shoes. Some good shirts to exercise in..."

"But I have all those Harpies things they gave!"

"Nice souvenirs those," he muttered. "But not always comfortable while exercising."

"What do you call what we did the other day then? They were fine for that."

"That's just practicing some skills and a way for me to judge your worth. This is for some serious workouts. Jogging, some light weights, swimming and cycling."

"You want me to jog?" she questioned. "And what's cycling?"

He stopped walking to face her. "Hmm, perhaps we should skip that last one then. I assume you can swim."

"Of course I can swim," she said with an air of defiance. "And I would like to learn what this cycling is all about."

He smiled proudly at her. "That's the spirit."

A silence surrounded them as her heartbeat quickened slightly at the praise. Then the stillness turned slightly awkward. Harry ran a hand through his hair and together they began to study the place around them. "Ok, first we need some shoes."

A few hours later they exited the store. He'd gotten her a pair of jogging shoes, which were light and extremely soft. A few shirts made of the strangest materials. None of them were woven of natural things like wool. According to Harry they were scientifically designed to allow a person's skin to breath. She only shrugged during the explanation. He might as well have spoken in Latin.

Harry banished all their items. He did not say where, but she assumed the bags had been sent to the stadium.

"Ok," he said with a satisfied grin. "I think we've seen enough of all these people."

"Thank goodness," Ginny breathed out.

He took her hand again and led the way into a small alcove. Then they Apparated away from bustling people and rumbling cars. Ginny held her breath and waited for the world to materialise before her again. All the while hoping that they would not be in another crowded street.

Relief flooded over her when she found them standing in a park. "Now where are we?"

"A small park in Little Whinging," he answered. "I grew up in this park."

"Wow!" she exclaimed in wonder.

He looked a bit awkward. "I've never told anyone about this place," he continued to talk. "I lived with my Muggle aunt and uncle just a few blocks away 'til my eighth birthday."

"Happy memories here?" she asked with a smile.

"Some of the worst," he answered darkly. His tone held no humour, only the deepest saddest truth.

"Oh, but why?"

"You are asking a lot of whys today. Actually you've been the whole week."

She stared at him in open stubbornness. "I wouldn't need to ask if you weren't being so cryptic all the time."

"Touché," he agreed. "So why did I bring you here?" He lifted his arms into the air and inhaled the fresh air. "This place has no meaning to you. All it holds is extreme pain for me." His hands dropped to his side and life seeped out of him.

She studied him while he spoke. The darkness, or sadness, in his eyes increased tenfold. Every inch of his body seemed tense. His one hand was clenched so tight that his knuckles had gone white and his arm shook. "Why?" he asked himself this time.

He began to walk and so she followed. No words were spoken, but she gravitated towards him. He stopped by a small bench and sat. She felt unsure of what to do until he patted the seat beside him. She obliged.

"Don't answer me if you don't want to," Harry began after nearly five minutes of silence. "But what do you fear? If a bogart were to appear, what would you see?"

Ginny followed his gaze out across the park. A man was playing with his son, while a woman sat on a blanket laughing at his antics. They looked so happy, a family. "I fear losing my family," she replied finding her voice. "I have six brothers, a mother and father. I love them all and the thought of not being able to hear one of them laugh again..." she let her voice trail off.

"Big family," he said in wonder. "Must've been wonderful."

She snorted. "Wonderful? More like a bloody nightmare. Always needing to fight for attention. Being the youngest of seven."

"But you love them and they love you," he whispered barely loud enough to be heard over the cool breeze blowing across the park. "I never had a family. Well not a real one."

"Oh, Harry," she said. Her eyes grew moist. "I... your aunt and uncle… no one ever mentioned… I just assumed... I don't know what I thought."

He shrugged his shoulders before leaning back against the bench. "I've never talked to anyone about this."

"Why to me?" she asked before thinking.

His head rolled backwards and he stared up at the clear blue sky. "You're different. I... I trust you, Ginny Weasley."

"I thought today was about teaching me," she laughed. "And here we are talking about trust." Her nervous laugh filled the air as her mind tried to comprehend what Harry was truly talking about.

He leaned forwards again. This time resting his elbows on his knees. "Seriously, Ginny. Think about what you fear. If all you take from today is the answer to that question then it will be enough for me... as your coach." He added the last part as an afterthought.

Her eyes closed and her mind wandered back to the Chamber of Secrets. It had been in her first year. The diary of a man called Tom Riddle had possessed her for nearly an entire year. The last time the diary took her nearly led to her death. Since then she'd not let a single man near her, save her brothers. It was the reason that the Harpies were the only team for her.

And then everything came crashing down. The pale haunted figure hanging over her. The life seeping out of her as the cold encroached. Even though Tom never did anything to her physically, he'd still invaded her mind, a place where no other being should ever have been. She let out a loud curse and jumped to her feet. "I... I need to go home, Harry." Her voice filled with panic.

"What?" Harry leapt up beside her. His hands touched her shoulders and she jerked away from him. Her view became distorted as tears began to well up. His eyes filled with confused hurt. "Talk to me, Ginny."

"I..." She removed her wand. "Let me go, Harry!" The world was spinning out of control. "Please."

"Anything," Harry whispered. He took a step back and she Disapparated.

"You're home early," her mother said as Ginny entered through the kitchen door. Ginny said nothing, but continued to run to her room. She didn't even bother to slam the door.

It didn't take long for her bed to move as her mother's weight settled on the edge. "What's the matter, dear?" she asked.

Ginny continued to cry. In those moments with Harry, the Chamber had become too real again, the memory too fresh. She'd allowed him to come near her and even allowed him to touch her hand. Her confused mind shuddered at the memory of Tom's face so close to hers. The memory overlapped and began to merge with Harry's face.

She continued to sob as her mother tried to soothe away the pain. "Whatever it is, Ginny, I'm here for you."

Harry stood alone in the middle of a park he'd hated. Ginny was gone. He dug his hands into the pockets of his jeans and kicked at a small pebble on the path. With nothing to do, and not knowing where she went, Harry removed his wand and with a casual flick Apparated himself back home.

The flat felt colder and even more desolate than before. A photo of a year old Harry with his parents hung above a small stone fireplace. Beside it hung another framed image of Harry standing between Remus and Sirius. He'd been sixteen when that was taken.

"Master Potter is home early," a small house elf squeaked. "Is something the matter?"

"I'm not sure, Kreacher," Harry sighed as he sank down into the couch. The fire blazing before him helped little.

"Master is not well," Kreacher wailed. "I'll fetch Master a drink."

"Make it a double," Harry barely managed to say. His eyes never once left the moving image of Sirius and Remus. Had he failed Ginny like them?

Kreacher emerged a few moments later with a tray of food and a single Firewhiskey. "You're too good to be my House Elf, Kreacher."

"I live to serve, Master Potter," the little creature replied. Harry let his eyes be diverted from the past. Kreacher looked worried and his long ears drooped.

"I'm sorry that you have to be stuck with a man like me," Harry said as he took a bite from the sandwich.

"You've been a good master," Kreacher praised. "The kindest Kreacher has ever known."

Harry did not move for the rest of the evening and the only time he moved the next day was to go to the bathroom. When he wasn't confused about Ginny and his feelings towards her then he wondered about her disappearance. After that he tried to push away the pain and the blame for the deaths of his parents and their best friends; it proved futile.

Ginny Apparated to the pitch early Monday morning. She still felt slightly wary, but these training sessions were her key to a career as a professional Quidditch player. If there was ever a time to fight her demons then now was it. She pulled her Harpies jacket tight against an unseen cold. Despite the fears she'd felt since Saturday, if the lessons learned in the past week were anything to go by then she was nowhere near good enough for the league.

The field all around felt eerie in its emptiness. Harry was not sitting in the stands or waiting on the pitch to welcome her. Wanting the day to just get going, but with nothing to do, she ambled towards the main stand and sat.

Eight slowly became nine and nine eventually turned to ten and still there was no sign of Harry. Deciding that she'd spent enough time in the cold grandstand, Ginny trudged unenthusiastically to the changing room.

Her kit lay in a neat pile like it had been every day the previous week. The only difference being a small note on top of her robes. A growl of pure frustration roared out from her throat as she snatched up the piece of parchment.

Miss Weasley,

Mr Harry James Potter lives at 15 Pikington Avenue, Essex.

She stared at the note. She'd never known Harry's second name was James. The surprise faded quickly. The changing room felt empty and small as fears kept bubbling to the surface.

"What to do?" she mumbled, her eyes once again drifting down towards the parchment, which was now partly crumpled in her palm. If she went to his house then she'd be near Harry, tempted to touch him. Her body trembled, not in excitement, but fear. How much would she be able to cope with?

If she ignored the letter then she could go home and relax. "What will he think of me then?" she cried out in frustration. Ginny sank down onto the bench and tried to reread the crumpled words on the parchment. It proved difficult when her hands began to shake.

Dark images of the Chamber shifted in and out of focus. A ghost like image had risen out of the diary. Tom Riddle, the man who'd taken over her mind. Even after all the years, she still felt used. The all too familiar nausea began to rise in her throat. He'd been looming over her, a broad smile on his lips, a filthy pale hand touched her cheek. Life had slowly been sucked out of her. The cold, even after all the years the coldness of life seeping out of her made Ginny shiver. The last memory was of Tom Riddle looking surprised. Perhaps that thought had only been a trick of her dying mind.

But Harry was different. His eyes were soft, if sad. Nothing like the dark demented eyes of Tom Riddle. His hands were gentle and caring, not cold and hard. He'd seen things in his past that haunted him, she could tell. At times those same eyes stared back at Ginny in the mirror. Less now, but they were there, like this weekend at the Burrow.

"I need to move passed this," she whispered to herself. Her lips kept moving as she rocked back and forth. After a while the words changed to, "I can let someone close." And eventually she was saying in her mind. "I can be near Harry." Those last words she dared not utter aloud.

Ginny felt every piece of her body and mind resisting, but she needed to do this. She could do this. With the decision made, she focused on the address on the parchment, closed her eyes and Apparated away.

Only when the world steadied did she allow her eyelids to flutter open. Her hand still clutched her wand tightly. She had emerged in the middle of a rather spacious room. Without daring to breathe, she tried to take in her surroundings. To her left was a neat kitchen and to the right a single door led into a room. Before her stood a single couch, which faced a fireplace. Two photographs hanging over the fireplace were the signs of life in the entire room.

"Kreacher, is that you?" Harry's voice called from the couch. The sound was depressing.

She suppressed a shriek. "I can do this," she whispered to herself in as low a voice as possible. The words helped calm her tenuous nerves. She had to get over these fears. Harry was a good man. He was not going to try and worm his way into her mind. With a deep breath she built the courage to speak.

"It's me, Ginny." Her voice sounded stronger than she'd expected.

"Bloody hell," he slurred. A very dishevelled mop of black hair emerged from the direction of the voice. "What... rather how did you get here?" His face was dark and rough from two days' worth of stubble and he still wore the same shirt, wrinkled now, as Saturday. In short he was a mess.

Ginny built up another bout of courage to speak. "I found a note on my kit telling me where you lived," she answered in as firm a voice as she could manage.

"Kreacher!" Harry moaned.

"Whose Kreacher?" she asked.

"A house elf who thinks he can do what he wants with my Fidelius Charm."

"Merlin!" Ginny shrieked. "Is being a professional Quidditch player that dangerous?" It was the first thing that came to mind.

He stared at her with the oddest expression. "What? Quidditch?" He tried his best to tame the mess that was his hair. It failed miserably, but the action was endearing. The very idea that he could be as uncomfortable as her made Ginny relax a little.

"Uh, why else?"

He shook his head. "You know about the Fidelius Charm?" He scratched at his stubble and scowled as if noticing it for the first time. She suppressed a smile. Despite everything, he could just make her unwind.

"My brother is a curse breaker for Gringotts. When he's around he likes to talk about various wards and why you'd use them." She shrugged. His eyes narrowed slightly.

"And it's not for being a Quidditch star," he muttered. It was an odd comment, but he did grow up during a war. "Even the most obsessed fans would not get passed the most elementary of blood ward or such." He stumbled around the couch.

"Good to know," she tried to laugh. "I'll ask Bill about it."

"Bill?" His voice broke slightly as his head jerked up.

"My brother, the curse breaker."

"Oh, right." Harry relaxed slightly again. "What are you doing here?" He finally managed to ask.

"It's Monday morning and I thought we had a practice session."

His face clouded over for a moment. "Monday? Isn't it still Sunday?"

He looked so serious that she began to laugh. "No it's definitely Monday."

"Crikey!" he almost shouted as hands worked even harder to flatten his hair. "I'm sorry, Ginny. I… I best get ready then." Harry kept mumbling as he moved about the room picking things up. Just before he entered his room he stopped and called, "Kreacher!"

Ginny jumped as a small elf appeared. "Morning, Master Potter." Harry rolled his eyes, but there seemed to be a playful undertone to the interaction.

"Could you please see to Miss Weasley. Make sure she gets whatever she needs."

"Of course, Master Potter. Kreacher will do as commanded."

"I'm asking you, Kreacher, not commanding," Harry grumbled as he disappeared.

The sound of running water confirmed that he'd jumped into the shower. Her cheeks reddened at the thought of Harry Potter taking a shower mere feet away from where she stood. "Foolish girl," she whispered to herself. "Can't trust a man, but thinking of that."

"Anything I can help with, Miss Weasley?" the small elf asked.

"I'm fine thank you, Kreacher," she replied. "I'll just sit and wait for Harry."

"Of course, Miss Weasley."

She sat on the couch and let her eyes take in her surroundings. The place was bare. A neat pile of orange Quidditch jerseys lay in one corner. The top one had the name Potter and his number on it. She assumed they were all his. Her eyes roamed to the fireplace and the photos. The only two she could see hung above the mantle.

"My parents," Harry said from behind. She nearly jumped as she'd not noticed the water stop running.

"They look like you," she replied while he shuffled around the couch towards her. "You look like your father and have the same eyes as your mother."

"So I've been told." He did not sound hurt. "The other is of me and my godfathers, Remus Lupin and Sirius Black."

"What happened?" she asked.

"What do you mean?" Harry responded.

"You sound… I don't know… hurt when you mention their names. Almost like there's a dam holding something back." The room filled with a palpable silence. "Sorry, Harry. I shouldn't have said that." Ginny blushed, feeling stupid, and tried to find something to focus on.

"No, I should talk about it more," he answered, as he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. The touch did not feel threatening, nor even demanding. Instead she felt his need for support, just like herself. "They passed away about six months before I played my first game for the Cannons. Just before the end of the war actually."

"I'm sorry, Harry. I hope you had someone there to help you."

He laughed slightly. "I had someone and then there's always Kreacher."

She shot to her feet. Some protective part, hidden deep, inside her snapped. Harry stood right before her and for the first time she became aware that the top of her head barely reached his chin. He looked forlorn, but something glimmered in his striking green eyes. She felt a tug towards him deep within her chest. There was an attraction she'd never felt before. "There's something about you, Harry," she whispered. Her hand hesitantly came up to touch his chest. Every inch of her being cried out for her to stop, but she could not. "You don't deserve to be alone."

His tongue touched his lips and his eyes stared unblinking. "I..." he leaned forward. His breath touched her lips. "Would you like to have dinner with me sometime?" he asked.

"Dinner?" She exhaled, feeling both thrilled and terrified. "With you? About the Harpies?" She knew perfectly well what he'd meant. Some part of her still hoped that he'd meant something else. The greater part, however, wanted to shout with elation.

"Forget about Gwenog," Harry said softly. "I want to get to know you." His own hand took hold of hers still pressed against his chest. "There is something about you too, Ginny."

She suppressed a smile, but her eyes never lied. She knew that. In those moments he could see her desire and deepest fears. "I'd like that very much, Harry." His face blossomed and that brightness in his eyes lasted for longer than just a moment.

"Tonight?" he asked in a whisper. There was no need to talk loudly as his face practically touched hers.

She swallowed. Visions of Tom Riddle swam before her, but they were vague. Harry's, now clean shaven, face was what she really saw and for the first time she could see a similar vulnerability in him. "Seven?" she offered.

"I'll pick you up at your house." Then he frowned. "Wait, umm… Perhaps that's not..."

"I'll meet you here," Ginny interjected. She did not want him meeting her family tonight. "I live with my parents. So it's best we keep this simple for now. And my contract sort of forbids me talking." She chewed her lips nervously. "And how am I supposed to explain you without talking about our sessions!"

"Of course," he muttered. "Gwenog... Harpies… Parents."

Boldly she placed a finger over his mouth. "Forget about her and them." Then she pushed herself up onto her toes and replaced her finger with her lips. It was a quick kiss, his lips rough and hard, but moist. She pulled away slowly allowing the touch to linger. "So…"

"So…" he repeated. "That was…"

"Nice," she supplied softly.

He gave a warm smile and ran a hand through his wet hair. "More than just nice."

She blushed again. The kiss had been softer, more intimate than the stupid one she'd had at school; Harry's touch was real and tender.

"We," Harry began.

"Better get to practice," Ginny offered.

"We'd better," Harry laughed.

Ginny sat in the quiet of her room after a lengthy practise. A day of Quidditch had never felt so long before. The entire time flying she'd wanted nothing more than for time pass so that seven could come and her date with Harry could begin.

Practise had been awkward though. Not in a bad way, but in a fun testing boundaries sort of way. They'd shared glances, bumped shoulders and each time there had been a pause - a moments consideration. Their eyes would lock and they would share a smile. She'd longed for another kiss, but there never seemed to be a right moment.

Now that she was home and seven just a few minutes away she had a more pressing issue. She had to decide what to wear. Harry had said to be informal.

She stood and crossed the room to the closet. "But what does that mean?" she huffed in annoyance while glancing sideways towards the mirror. A bunch of outfits, not that she had many, already covered the poor bed. She lifted a set of black dress robes, which were probably older than herself, then huffed. "Informal! Can't the man be more specific?"

Her tirade continued. Eventually nearly every outfit had been banished back to where it had been, in what would now be a complete mess. All that remained was her newest pair of jeans and a jersey she'd sworn to never wear. Deciding that it really was her only option, she got dressed and hurried into the bathroom to do her makeup; an art she was not very good at.

A number of frustrating minutes later Ginny tiptoed down the stairs, careful to never set foot on a squeaky board. Ron and her father were busy playing a game of chess allowing her to slip passed them without notice. Her mother hummed softly to herself while cooking. Ginny edged into the kitchen and stretched out a hand towards the handle.

"You look lovely," a voice spoke from behind. Ginny's hand froze over the handle. She'd been so close. "I haven't seen you in that green jersey I made for you in years." Ginny blushed. Her hand dropped to her side as she faced her mother. "And makeup?"

The jersey felt tighter than ever before. Ginny had always complained about how it hugged her body and that was before she'd developed into a young woman.

She coughed, trying to find her voice. "Harpies thing tonight." The words came quickly even though she tried hard to not show any signs of going on a date. "My coach wants to get a drink and talk. There's so much to talk about." She felt rather proud of herself. It was all true if she stretched her imagination a bit.

"That's nice." Her mother looked rather disappointed. "I had hoped you were sneaking out on a date."

Ginny felt her cheeks heat under her mother's gaze. "Date?" she squeaked. "Where do you think I would find the time for a date?"

Her mother sighed and her eyes glistened hopefully. "A mother can always dream, dear."

Ginny's past was never spoken about openly and her aversion to boys had been bothering her mother for years. Ginny crossed the kitchen to her mother and enveloped her in a hug. "I can't promise anything, mum. But I'll try to keep an eye open." The all too familiar bone crushing Mrs Weasley hug threatened to squeeze the life out of Ginny.

"Well, that's good enough for me." Mrs Weasley spoke as she held onto Ginny.

Ginny smiled and then slipped out of the house and Apparated straight into Harry's flat. It was precisely seven.

Movement drew her attention to the room where Harry had just put on a shirt. "On time," Harry said in surprise before stepping out of the room. "From what I've heard and seen about witches…"

Ginny flicked out her wand, cutting off his words, and pointed it at him with a mischievous grin. "I'm not an ordinary witch."

Harry held up a hand. His hair still oddly dishevelled, but his shirt and chinos fit him perfectly. "If you were then I wouldn't have asked you out, Miss Weasley."

"You're not so average yourself." He affected her like no wizards had ever before. He was caring, smart and knew nearly everything about Quidditch. She grinned, he was also devilishly handsome. "So where are you taking me, Mr Potter?"

He reached out and took her hand. The touch felt warm and tender. "You have a beautiful smile," he said shyly. "But you'll have to wait and see about dinner."

"I can get very persuasive," Ginny said while fingering her wand openly with her other hand. "I've learned ways to make people speak." His hand trembled slightly. For a brief moment she felt a new aura come off him. It was not quite fear, she was sure of that, but it might have been close. She slipped her wand into her pocket and squeezed his hand reassuringly. "And I like surprises."

He led her towards the front door. "I'm sure you can be." He finally managed to say.

It was still light out and the weather warmer than in the morning. At first they walked in silence. Ginny would've liked to have called that silence comfortable, but Harry remained tense.

"Evening, Harry." A bubbly older gentleman said as he passed.

"Evening, Richard," Harry replied stiffly.

"And who's the lovely young lady." He grinned at Harry, while sneaking glances at Ginny.

"Richard this is Ginny," Harry introduced. The man made a big show of shaking her hand and when he passed Harry he nudged him in the ribs. She looked back to see the old man wink.

"What was all that about?" she laughed nervously.

Harry gave a quiet laugh. The nervousness seemed to bleed away from him. "Oh, Richard has known me for years. He's probably just excited to see me with a girl."

"So you don't bring all your groupies here with you?" An overwhelming sense of jealousy flooded into her. She could not help but imagine all the women he'd been with. She'd seen how various witches threw themselves at men. Her mind still spun at what some of the girls talked about in the dorms.

"I've never been here with another woman," Harry said. Then he laughed. "Well not with a young woman on a date."

"So you've been here with a woman then!" Ginny said heatedly. This reaction was not her, but yet she could not stop it.

"Well if you compare having dinner with your father as a date. Then yes, I've been here with a woman before."

Ginny stopped walking. "So who's this woman?" Harry seemed unsure of what to say. "Not first date question?"

He relaxed visibly. "Not that I don't want to talk about it. It's just not something I share with people." His hold tightened. "Listen, Ginny. I like you a lot, but there are things about my past that…"

"I have a few skeletons myself, Harry," she said placing a hand on his arm. "Let's try to enjoy the evening and let the past be the past for now."

"Thanks," Harry smiled. He leaned towards her and let his lips gently touch hers. "I appreciate that."

"Stop making a scene in public, Harry!" a woman in her early fifties, Ginny guessed, called out from across the street. "You'll be driving us old folk barmy!"

Ginny groaned as he pulled further away from her. "Can't I kiss my lovely date, Mary?" Harry called. Ginny heard a hint of pride in his voice that made her feel warm inside.

"Not until you've introduced the young miss to me, lad," she shouted. Her plump body scurried with surprising litheness as she hurried across the road towards them.

Harry rolled his eyes and mouthed, 'sorry.' Ginny only grinned and turned to face the oncoming woman.

"My, you are a pretty thing," she said upon reaching Ginny. "Great taste, this man. You better not mess with him, young miss."

"Mary!" Harry warned. The woman gave a fake scowl and then laughed. "Mary this is Ginny."

"A pleasure to meet you, Mary," Ginny said as she took the woman's hand. Mary's eyes studied Ginny the whole time.

"Yes, a pleasure." Then she laughed again. "You two look adorable together."

"Um… thanks. Good evening," Harry said hastily as he pulled Ginny away with him.

"Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea," Harry muttered as he strode briskly down the street.

"Small communities tend to do that," Ginny laughed. "But I think they all mean well."

Harry slowed down and sighed. "Of course they mean well." He sounded irritated, but there seemed to be a deeper undercurrent to his mood.

"You just don't like people prying into your personal life," she said to fill the air with the words he wanted to say.

"How did you…"

"It's no secret that you are a recluse, Harry. How many star Quidditch players are out there that the public know nothing about?"

"Umm," he tried to think.

"There's only you. Any player worth anything has released a book or two about themselves and that's not even counting articles in the Witch Weekly or Prophet." He said nothing. "But we're not talking about the past."

He seemed thankful for a moment. "Sorry. I've grown a little too talented at keeping myself hidden."

She squeezed his hand and hoped he would open up a little. Of course he said no more about his past while they walked along. She had to keep reminding herself that she'd only known him a week and this was a first date. Still it felt like she'd known him much

longer. Apart from all the posters and the games she watched, she kept having this nagging feeling that she knew him from even before he played Quidditch.

"Here we are," Harry proclaimed.

It was a small restaurant with only ten tables inside. The name above the little place was practically unreadable as the font was so skew. "What's this place?" she asked as he opened the door for her.

"A little Italian place. Sirius and… hmmm," he coughed. "Excuse me. Remus, loved to come here. I've got only pleasant memories of this place." He mumbled, "About the only place." So softly she felt sure she was not meant to have overheard.

The fondness she felt for him grew. If he brought her here then she must really mean something to him. She beamed up at Harry. "Thanks for bringing me here then."

"Harry!" A thin bald headed man called from the entrance to the kitchen. "It's been a long time. Too long, my friend."

"I've had a busy time, Marco," Harry replied.

"And you've brought a lovely lady with you." His eyebrows lifted. "If she's just a friend, then perhaps…" He winked at Harry.

"She's taken," Harry replied a little curtly. He even took a slight step towards Ginny.

The man laughed and clapped his hands together gleefully. "Forgive me, but a man must try with such beauty." Ginny blushed at the compliment. She did, however, shuffle closer to Harry.

The man snapped his fingers and a waiter appeared as if by magic to seat them by one of the small round tables. "Sorry about Marco. I think it's the Italian blood. He has this urge to flirt with every woman who comes in here." Harry grimaced. "I just never really thought about it much. It's always been funny."

Ginny reached her hand across to him and placed it over his. "Relax, just caught me a bit unaware, but nothing serious." He smiled, the relief visible in his expression. "So, what does one eat at Italian restaurants?"

"Pasta, Pizza," Harry answered eagerly. "Personally I prefer pizza. Pasta…"

"Is something my mother makes," Ginny laughed.

"Something like that," Harry agreed.

"So what's pizza?" she asked. Harry looked surprised, but went into a lengthy explanation on the topic.

They ordered wine and enjoyed their pizzas, which Ginny just had to try after Harry's story. The meal passed in pleasant conversation. He laughed genuinely at stories about

her family. He grew serious and supportive while she talked about her aspirations as a Quidditch player. He understood everything. He even went into some details about his unbeaten Quidditch career. She laughed and told him about how much her brother worships him. Harry had seemed a bit worried, but when she told him about Ron's lifelong support, or rather obsession, for the Canons, Harry relaxed again. And then the meal was eaten, the bottle of wine was empty and the place wanted to close.

"Thanks for a lovely evening," Ginny said as they walked back to his flat; their hands still entwined. It just felt right, like his hand had always been destined to fit into hers.

"I…" he began. "I think this was the best evening ever."

"Don't lie, Harry. What about all those victory celebrations and Quidditch functions? Surely they were better than this. I remember seeing photos of witches, with legs longer than me, hanging onto you."

"Chancers," Harry growled. "They just… arggh!" he shook his head. "It's enough to make my head spin just thinking about them."

"So no taking witches home then?" Ginny hated herself for asking, but she needed to know.

He stopped walking, and looked genuinely surprised. "I kissed a few of them, but none were ever what I really wanted."

"And that is?" she asked.

He looked away and she noticed his eyes shimmer in the low light. He tried to keep her from seeing and so she said nothing. Whatever it was, he'd talk about it soon, and if it was something she couldn't cope with then she'd deal with it then. For now she just wanted to enjoy the remaining minutes of the evening.

"I should be getting home," Ginny said when they reached his flat.

Harry nodded in understanding. "See you tomorrow, Ginny." He bent down towards her and gave her a final kiss for the evening. He slowly let go of her hand. Immediately her body yearned for the warmth of his hold.

Ginny smiled shyly. "Tomorrow can't come soon enough," she replied. "Night, Harry." Then the world spun and blurred as she raced towards the Burrow.

A week later Harry sat crouched among some bushes and trees. It was a moonless night and a small manor lay in the valley below. The sun could've been high in the sky as Harry was shrouded beneath an invisibility cloak he'd inherited from his father. The wind blew steadily across the valley and the cloak ruffled about. He remained motionless, his gaze never once moved away from the building.

A figure appeared and strode into the house. Harry straightened. Only one man walked like that - Lucius Malfoy. Anger grew steadily into uncontrollable rage. The Death Eater was the sole cause for him having to quit his passion.

Harry's hand touched his forearms. The comforting feel of his wand on his right helped settle some of the fury. The cool touch of Voldemort's wand on his left made him shiver. He hated the man's wand, but it worked almost as well for Harry as his own. The twin cores reacted well to him.

He moved stealthily down the slope towards the house. Lucius crowded and clogged Harry's thoughts as he glided along the grassy hill. The man remained the only follower of Voldemort. A fanatic who'd lost everything during the war. A fool who wanted nothing more than to kill Harry. Finally Malfoy was alone and for the taking. With him gone Harry could return to the Cannons. He could fly against Ginny.

With a casual flick, his wand was in hand. Voldemort's remained as a backup, nothing more. It was Harry's little secret. He stepped onto the porch, his face set in concentration. Taking a careful peak through the window, he saw Malfoy standing alone in front of a fire, his back to the door.

Removing his cloak, Harry stalked towards the front door. A deep breath later he threw it open and rolled inside over his left shoulder. It took all of a second for him to realise that he'd been set-up. Three figures materialised and multi-coloured rays of light flew towards him.

The curses moved slowly, but his shield proved even more lethargic. The world seemed poised, and then the shield snapped into place. It bore the brunt of the spells, but it was not enough. The violence of the impact threw him backwards. The side of his head collided against the edge of the open door with a sickening crunch. His body, still carrying momentum, carried him round and out the door. Something cut into his shoulder as he painfully rolled over it and onto the gravel path outside.

Focusing his energy Harry flicked his wand and Apparated to safety. Thankfully no wards had been raised to keep him inside; an oversight by an arrogant fool.

"Aghh!" He cried out in pain. His back arched and blood flowed down his face and onto the floor. Kreacher would not like cleaning and dressing the cuts. The elf never did.

Ginny arrived a few minutes late for training only to find Harry sitting alone high up in the stands. It was odd considering he usually waited down by the pitch for her with a wide smile. Worried, she made her way towards him.

"Harry," she greeted. One look at his face made her gasp. "What's wrong?" It came out as a shout. The entire left side of his face was swollen and bruised.

"Nothing," he whispered. "Just a run-in with a door and some gravel." A smile formed slowly, which quickly turned into a grimace.

Ginny reached out and tenderly touched his cheek. "Looks rather nasty. What happened?"

He shrugged very slightly. "Perhaps I'll just sit and watch you fly today. You get to work on your crowd pleasing stunts."

She punched his shoulder softly for avoiding her question. Harry bit down hard and his eyes watered.

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously at his shoulder. "It must've been a lot of nothing."

He grunted a yes, but he could not look at her. She placed a hand on his arm, he flinched slightly, but did not pull away. "Harry."

He let out a deep breath and placed his other hand on top of hers. "It was a long night, Ginny."

She wanted to ask more, but the way he stared out across the field made her change what she wanted to say. "Do you want to go somewhere else today?" She removed her wand and lifted it to his face.

"What are you doing?" he asked halting her hand.

"With six older brothers running around you have to learn at least basic healing." His arm relaxed and he let go of her wrist. A few charms later the bruising looked better and the swelling had gone down slightly.

"Thanks." His voice was barely audible. "And yes, I'd rather be doing something else today."

They stood and began to walk down to the pitch. It took only a few steps for Ginny to notice Harry's limp. He suffered in silence, but the pain was obvious. "You can go see a Healer," Ginny suggested.

"And tell them what?" There was a note of anger in his voice. He raised his arms into the air then let them drop. His head fell as well. "I'm sorry, Ginny. I... I'm sorry, but perhaps I should just spend today alone."

She rounded on him. "I don't think you should be alone."

"You think," he laughed sadly and then he sagged into one of the thousands of empty seats. "I buggered up last night." His hands ran through his hair. It came away slightly red.

Ginny took his hand and cleaned it, before performing a few more minor healing spells on his scalp.

"Want to talk about it?" she asked. "A drunken fight in a bar? Another woman?"

His head jerked up. "What? No!"

Ginny let out a relieved breath and her nerves settled again. "So?"

"I'm not ready." He cupped her cheek with his hand. "I'm just not ready."

He looked so lost and distressed. "Will I ever know what drives you, Harry?"

"Eventually." She leaned forwards and kissed him. Afterwards he held her close and her head rested against his chest. "I really want to talk, but..."

"You have to be sure about me first," she said the first thing that came to mind.

"Does that make me some cruel bastard?" he asked.

At first she did not respond. "I guess I'll know the answer to the question once I know what you're not telling me now."

"It's not bad, just personal." She felt his lips touch her head.

She wanted to shout at him, to force him to tell, but it would only drive him away. "I won't wait forever, Harry, but I'll give you a few more weeks." Then again she had not spoken about her past, but she had already decided to tell him when the time was right. But how would she know when the right time was?

"That's all I need, Ginny. Thank you."

The days continued to pass quickly when she was with Harry, which had been most of the time during each day. They went out a few times, each being more wonderful. He had continued to take her to all his favourite places in the evenings; their dates always in the Muggle world. It was better for them not to be seen. Gwenog would not look kindly on this.

Harry had yet to talk to her about anything more. His past hung over him like a dark ominous thunderstorm. Thankfully he had not arrived at practise with anymore injuries, at least none visible. She wanted to push for answers, especially about the one evening, but how could she as she had yet to talk about the Chamber and the diary?

The tension hung in the air between them. She could feel it each time either one of them mentioned anything about the past. They needed to talk about it, but neither seemed willing to share so much of themselves yet.

Before Ginny blinked, the last day's training with Harry had come and it was almost done. She still had not managed to beat Harry to a single Snitch, but she'd gotten a bit too close for comfort on a number of occasions.

High above the ground, Ginny flew her search pattern, the same she'd been flying for years. It was about the only thing Harry had not changed over the month. Well, he only added a small little trick to it.

Her eyes caught a glimpse of gold in her peripheral vision. Harry, oblivious, continued to fly slowly away from it. Casually she broke away from her pattern and sailed around

in a lazy arc. Harry suspected nothing, or at least he suspected, but he could not know that she'd seen the Snitch. She liked this change he'd brought to her routine. A search pattern was all good and well, but for precisely this reason he'd taught her to change position lethargically at random intervals.

She was almost there when he too glimpsed the little golden ball. The race was on. Her body flattened against the broom. Her ponytail flapped against her back as the air buffeted her body.

"I've got this one, Harry." Her teeth were clenched so the words came out as a single growl.

But then he emerged out of nowhere, flying beneath the broom, and snatched the Snitch from right in front of her disbelieving eyes.

A minute later Harry landed, golden ball in hand, in the middle of the pitch looking much too smug for her liking.

"Where the hell did you come from?" Ginny demanded as soon as her feet touched the ground. "There's no way you should've been able to get to that Snitch before me."

Harry continued to smile insufferably. "I can tell you, but then you'll have to marry me."

Her mouth opened and then snapped shut. Her eyes narrowed. "I might just take you up on that, Mr Potter."

He gulped, but the grin did not fade. In fact his eyes sparkled. She wanted nothing more than to run her hands through his hair and snog the night away, but a soft pop to the side stopped them both from stepping closer.

"Is my new Seeker ready, Harry?" Gwenog asked startling both of them.

"As ready as I could make her in four weeks," Harry replied.

The woman held his gaze for a moment. They were softer than Ginny had ever seen.

Gwenog talked with them for a few minutes. Eventually telling Ginny to head to the changing room. Harry tried to tell her something, but Gwenog had already begun leading him away.

"What do you make of her?" Gwenog asked Harry when Ginny was well out of earshot. "Do you think she's got what it takes to make it at this level? I've got another, more experienced, Seeker ready to be signed."

"What are you getting at?" Harry growled in frustration. "She has a way to go, yes, but I think she's got more than enough to take on the competition." He felt his voice rise with passion. "Sure, she did not have my training growing up, but she makes up for it by being a damned better player than me!"

Gwenog considered his words for a moment. "She did let you get that last Snitch." Harry's face contorted in anger. Then she shook her head and laughed. "Relax Harry, her position is secure." He let the breath he'd been holding rush out through clenched teeth. "I still don't know how you fly so darn fast."

"Potter secret," Harry said as the anger he felt began to ebb away. "You really are something else, Miss Jones!"

"I am exactly what I need to be." She threw her arms into the air dramatically. "You are after all the master of being what you want."

He clamped his mouth shut and continued to glare at her.

"And?" she said. "How's the dating going with you two?"

"What!" Harry choked out in disbelief. "How do you... So that's what this has all been about."

"Did you honestly think that Mary would not call me?" Gwenog chuckled. "The woman wanted all the details about my little step godson's love life."

"You're not angry?" Harry said in wonder, all the things he'd wanted to say forgotten. "I was sure you'd kill me."

"As long as you don't ruin the poor girl, then what reason could I possibly have for you not dating her?"

"Yes, but you are usually so strict about the girls and who they see."

"I've never told them they aren't allowed, Harry. I just drive the fear of Voldemort into them about dating rubbish and letting it affect their flying."

He rubbed his face, the day's growth sounded harsh against his calloused hand. "So I'm not classified as rubbish then?"

She ruffled his hair playfully. "Almost, but you just manage to be respectable. I'll not hold the Chudley Cannons against you."

"You're the one who forced them to sign me," he cried out in mock outrage.

"Only because you're not cute enough to pass for a girl," she said sweetly. Harry chuckled at the long standing joke. "And that is why I won't say anything about her dating you." Her voice became tender and she brought him into a tight hug, something she rarely did. "I'd lose every season if it would make you happy."

Harry bit back a laugh. It came out as a snort. "No, you'll lose one and then kick me up the backside."

"Two seasons," she countered before pulling away from him with a grin. "Go wait for her. She'll be needing you before the other girls arrive next week."

"Thanks." Harry turned to the grandstand, feeling unsure. "This means a lot to me... To us."

He took a few strides further then stopped to face her again. "What was the point of all that nonsense earlier?"

"I had to know what you felt for her." She did not look apologetic in the least. "I have to look after my girls, Harry."

He nodded in understanding. "I'm not messing with her. I think there really might be something special."

"I know," she said softly. "Now go, Harry. Or would you rather spend the evening with me."

"I'm going,"

When Ginny emerged from the changing room, she found Harry leaning against the wall with a dazzling smile. He looked different, more relaxed. "Waiting for me, Potter?" she asked feeling her heart quicken. Her face flushed as warmth spread out through her body.

He pushed himself away from the wall and crushed his lips against hers. When they broke the kiss, Ginny was panting and trying hard to regain some semblance of self-control. "What was… again," she muttered, feeling foolish for her girlishness. But when Harry kissed her like that what else could she say.

"Ginny," he whispered into her ear after trailing kisses along her jaw.

She whimpered something. It could've been his name or that of a broom, but it didn't matter. Her knees had gone weak minutes ago. His hand slipped beneath her jersey. The cool touch burned against her hot stomach. It roamed about sending jolts of ecstasy up her spine. "Flat," she whimpered again. "Someone might…" She never finished the sentence as she felt herself being compressed. Still kissing, they stumbled and fell. The fall was not hard, instead their tangled limbs collapsed onto a soft mattress. When she registered where they were all rational thought evaporated.

Ginny woke. It took a few moments to remember that she was not in her own bed. The mattress was softer than her own and the duvet much fluffier. Hers definitely did not contain the warmth of Harry lying peacefully next to her. Her eyes snapped open to a dark room. She gripped the blanket close towards her chest.

The movement of the sheets caused Harry to stir beside her. A warm hand moved up her leg before coming round her waist to pull her close. Her face turned towards his. Even in the dark she could make out a pair of wide green eyes staring at her. "We…that was…"

"Amazing," Ginny sighed as she wormed her body closer to his. Images of clothes vanishing and tender touches in places she'd never been touched before filled her mind. Nothing had been as awkward as she'd imagined her first time being. "Perfect."

He blinked in surprise. "Was it? I... I was fumbling about and..." She cut off his words with a simple kiss.

"I'm no expert, but I don't think I'll be forgetting this any time soon." Even as she spoke the words became slurred. She yawned against his bare chest, which made a comfortable cushion. The rhythmic beating of his heart and the warmth of his body had her asleep in moments.

She woke later that morning, this time the sun shone through partly drawn curtains. Harry was sitting upright, his hand busy running through her hair. "Morning," she said sleepily.

"Sleep well?" he asked.

She yawned and stretched beneath the sheets. "I think it could pass as a good night's sleep. You?"

"Never better," he replied. His fingers continued to stroke her long red hair. To her nothing had ever felt more right.

The moment could, however, not last. A cold dread filled Ginny. "What am I going to tell my mum?" she shouted as she sat upright. "I haven't even told her we're dating and now I've spent the night." She prattled on to herself.

Harry touched her bare back with the palm of his hand. "I don't like lying, but you could say that you spent the night at Gwenog's."

She glanced up at his worried face. "But she'd never cover for me like that."

She turned fully towards him, duvet clutched to her chest, hoping that he had an answer. For a moment he appeared unsure of what to say. Then his expression grew confident. "She'll do it for me."

"But you're just a hired coach," Ginny retorted quickly. "Why would she help you? Especially for a new Harpy who..."

Harry's hand left her back and her words refused to form. It felt oddly cold and lonely without his touch. She was about to argue when a framed photo was pushed onto her lap.

"This was taken on my eleventh birthday." He sounded extremely vulnerable. She understood. This was the first time he'd actually shared a piece of his past with her. She tore her eyes away from the frame long enough to kiss his cheek.

She twisted her face in mock agony. "You need a shave, Potter." He laughed richly, but she could feel the tension in his body.

Her attention shifted back to photo. An eleven year old Harry was flying on a broom being chased by, "Gwenog!" Ginny half shouted half cried. "You've known her since you were eleven?"

"Eight actually," Harry replied as his finger traced the path he and Gwenog flew on the photo. "My parents were killed when I was a year old. I went to live with my aunt and uncle, but they…" he choked slightly. "Let's just say it didn't go well." Her arm wrapped around his waist and she kissed his exposed shoulder. It felt good to be so close to someone. "My father's best friend, my godfather Sirius Black, took me from them and raised me as his own son." He laughed slightly. "Brace yourself. This is information Witch Weekly would raise Voldemort for…"

Ginny squeaked at the name. "You said his name," she said in awe.

"It's only a name and he's dead, Ginny."

"He came back once," she countered.

His eyes grew dark and distant for a moment. "That's beside the point. What I wanted to say was Sirius Black was married to none other than Gwenog Jones."

Ginny's head jerked up towards him. "You're having me on," she laughed. "I..."

"No joke," Harry said as he slipped out from under the duvet. She felt her cheeks burn while watching him pull on a pair of shorts. "Sirius was reclusive and Gwenog had a reputation to up hold." He froze just before pulling his shirt over his head. There was more, but Ginny would not push him to speak. "So they lived in a house just down the road in secret and raised me as their son."

"Bloody hell," Ginny murmured. "You're telling me I slept with my bosses' son."

"Adopted step godson type thing, yeah." Harry shrugged.

"Harry!" she cried out. "She's going to sack me for sure. You must know how she is about her players dating."

Harry laughed. "I thought the same. That's why I kept that part of my life secret until now and why I never tried to go further than a kiss."

"But why say now?" Ginny said angrily. "Why tell me after we've slept together?"

"She already knew about us, Ginny. And she wants us to be happy. Besides she only has issues with her players dating the wrong sort of guy."

"And you would be Mr Perfect," she said scornfully.

Harry sat down on the edge of the bed. "I'm not perfect, Ginny. Gwenog knows my flaws better than most, but she told me that I just passed muster."

Ginny couldn't help but laugh. "Gwenog, a motherly witch. You know you've ruined the image of her in my mind."

Harry nodded. "And that's why no one knows about us."

"No wonder you're so secretive," Ginny mumbled. She climbed out of bed and hurriedly dressed. "No looking!" she glared at him.

"Just returning the compliment," Harry smiled as his eyes travelled up and down her body. "You're beautiful. I hope you know it."

She blushed all over and was rewarded with a brilliant smile. Harry, deciding to spare her, left the room. From the kitchen she heard pots banging and things moving about. She emerged from the bedroom still pulling her jersey over her head.

Harry had a pan on the stove and the smell of frying bacon filled the room. "I thought you had a house elf?" Ginny asked.

He nodded. "You don't know how long it took to get the elf to stop making me breakfast."

She shuffled around the counter, thinking about Hermione and her fight for House Elf rights with her SPEW regulations, to stand next to him. Without asking she took a knife and began to cut a few slices of bread. He wrapped an arm around her waist and kissed the top of her head.

"I think I might get used to this." He smiled from ear to ear.

She hugged him back before setting her sights on some tomatoes that needed slicing. Within minutes they had a warm breakfast laid out on the table. A few bites into the meal Harry summoned a quill and some parchment.

"Already putting business before me, Potter," Ginny pouted.

"Only the business of your well-being, Ginny," Harry replied. He held up the letter.

She swallowed her bacon with difficulty. "You really did grow up with her."

He nodded before calling Kreacher to deliver the letter.

"I better get home before my mother has a fit," Ginny said after drinking the last of her tea.

"I wish you could stay." He whispered from across the table. "Will I be able to see you this weekend?"

"Maybe, but I think my parents and brothers would like to see me before my actual Harpies training begins."

"Our training has been serious, Ginny," Harry said as he looked over the top of his cup at her. "I tried to teach you as much as I could."

"I know," she winked. "I hurt in places I never knew I had." It was not a lie. The night before had her stiff and sore in the most unusual places. Harry coughed into his cup and his face burned bright red. "But I know what you mean, Harry. And thank you."

He walked with her to spot where she always Apparated from. They held each other for a few minutes, neither wanting the other to leave. Eventually they did let go.

"You've got it in you, Ginny," Harry whispered. "All you need is some faith in your own abilities."

She nodded, but the world felt wrong and cold now that she had pulled away from his hold. "I'll owl if I have some time free to get away from the Burrow." If her parents had not been waiting then she would be in his arms and under the covers of his bed within a heartbeat.

Harry must have sensed her mood as he closed the gap between them. They kissed until it really became time for Ginny to leave. "I must go, Harry." She hoped she conveyed her desire to stay.

"I know," Harry whispered as he leaned his forehead against hers.

She took a step away and removed her wand. "Wait," he said suddenly and rushed over to the far corner only to come back with one of his Quidditch Jerseys. "Take this…" he muttered. "I've been wanting to give it to you for a while. For Ron, I think he'd appreciate it more than me."

She smiled and took the jersey gratefully. Rising up on her toes she gave him another quick kiss and then Apparated away.

"Ginny! Where have you been?" her mother shouted from the kitchen door the moment Ginny arrived.

"I was at Gwenog's house last night…" The lie came easier than she expected. It was definitely not the proudest moment in the life of Ginny Weasley.

"You should've owled to tell us! We were worried sick all night…"

A moment later another pop came from the Apparation point. Her mother froze and then smiled broadly. "Miss Jones, what a pleasant surprise."

Ginny's blood went cold as it drained from her face. She turned slowly, hoping that Gwenog had received the message. Then again that meant her coach knew what Ginny had been up to last night.

"I'm sorry to follow you home like this, Ginny," Gwenog spoke. "I just forgot to remind you that practice starts at eight on Monday morning and that all the girls are very eager to meet you."

"Oh, thank you," Ginny replied even though she already knew as much. Her mother nudged her gently. "Oh, sorry. This is my mum, Molly Weasley," Ginny introduced.

"A pleasure to meet the mother behind such an extraordinary young witch," her coach praised. "But if you don't mind, Mrs Weasley. I'd just like another quick word with Ginny."

"Of course, Miss Jones. Take your time." Mrs Weasley was too over the moon at being introduced to the legendary Gwenog Jones to take any offense.

Ginny followed her coach with trepidation. "I'm sorry about last night. I… we…"

"No need to apologise, Ginny," Gwenog said once they were settled on one of the garden benches. "I wanted to talk to you a bit about Harry." Ginny did not speak, in fact she could not. "He's had a hard life. Quidditch has been the only break he's ever had."

"I gathered as much," Ginny nodded agreement. "I can see it in his eyes and at the mention of certain things. He never talks about it, but I get the feeling he fought in the war and that he'd been tortured or something."

Gwenog nodded slowly. "Astute."

"Harry's a good teacher," she replied with a blush.

"I had to rub off somehow," Gwenog joked and Ginny found herself laughing along. "I just don't want to see him hurt, Ginny. He's lost enough in his life."

Ginny sobered up quickly. "If you are wondering if I am fooling with him just because he's a famous Quidditch player, then you're mistaken. I am attracted to him for reasons I cannot fathom yet. I've seen the dark and distant looks he gets at times. I understand those. I used to be the same."

Gwenog studied Ginny curiously for a moment. "Then I hope you all the best." The woman stood slowly. "I also want you to know that your relationship has nothing to do with your contract with the Harpies. For your part I don't care if you break up. Just don't come crying on my shoulder if you do. And do not expect to be treated any differently. If anything I expect more from the girls in relationships."

"I understand," Ginny replied while getting to her own feet.

The woman glanced down at the orange jersey in Ginny's hand. "He must like you a lot. That was his favourite game."

With that, Gwenog strode away and Disapparated.

Ginny glanced down at what she held for the first time. Her eyes widened. She had thought he'd given her some practise jersey. Her fingers traced the embroidered date. It was the jersey he'd worn in the final against the Harpies. He'd won his first title wearing this.

Ginny had gone to watch the game with Ron and her father. It had been her first Quidditch game. Ginny and Ron had really bonded during the game. Him with his garish orange and she in her respectable Harpies shirt. Wiping away a tear she walked back to the house. Harry could be very sweet when he wanted to be.

"What did your coach need to talk to you about?" Mrs Weasley asked.

Ginny opened her mouth to reply, but a shout cut off her words. "Is that a Chudley's jersey?" Ron shouted from the living room. Ginny growled. It was practically impossible to hide something so orange.

"Who else makes something this vile?" Ginny yelled back. "Come in here, Ron."

He hurried into the kitchen. "Did the Cannons sign you?" Ron asked eagerly. He looked so hopeful. "Just think. My sister taking the place of Harry Potter." His eyes were practically shimmering with excitement.

"No, you prat," Ginny laughed. "But I did get this to give to you."

She handed the jersey over to him. Unlike her, he actually looked at it before speaking. Well, she did have an excuse. Harry could be very distracting. "This is an actual jersey from the final!" His voice rose. "The game we watched together." Ron continued to stare at it in open wonder as his fingers ran across the stitching that read, 'Cup Final — Chudley Cannons versus Holyhead Harpies.'

"Unfold it," Ginny said. She couldn't wait to see her brother's face.

The jersey opened and her mother gasped. Ron turned it over. His mouth opened and closed like a gold fish for at least a minute. "This is…" he barely managed. "This is…"

"The actual shirt worn by Harry Potter when he caught the Snitch that won the Cannons their first title in a billion years." She decided he required some help completing the sentence.

He placed the shirt down carefully and her mother turned back to her responsibilities around the house. Apparently all was forgiven or the conversation had just been moved to a later date. Ginny did not know which was worse. She also had this feeling that her mother did not accept Ginny's lie.

"I… thank you, Ginny."

"Perks of being in my position." Her whole body burned. Ron didn't notice her blush as he pulled her into a hug. "It just makes the day more special." She spoke while thinking about the morning spent with Harry.

"We have four weeks before the season starts," Gwenog was really getting into her speech. Her eyes, lingering slightly longer on Ginny, drifted over all the players. "Harry Potter is not playing this year. But that only means the teams will be training harder and be even more eager to win. Like us they can already feel the cool touch of the trophy."

Her voice grew distant as she remembered holding it. "Each game will be tough. Are you girls tough enough!"

"Yes!" They all shouted in unison. Ginny felt her own throat burn from the numerous times she'd already shouted in reply.

"Well you're not tough enough girls!" The woman glared at each in turn. Her eyes were fire. Ginny did not glance away, instead she tried hard to see the motherly side of her coach. It was not to be seen. "I'm going to push you harder than you've ever been pushed. This season you'll be fitter, stronger and sharper in the air. I'm not leaving anything to chance this year. Are you girls ready to work hard? Are you ready to get those backsides into shape?" She shouted loudly, her face red with emotion.

"Yes!" all of them shouted together again.

Gwenog, like the predator she was, dropped her voice dangerously low. "I've seen all of you play. I trust in every one of you. Katie Bell, Samantha Evans, Ginny Weasley, Catherine Spinnet, Michelle Urquhart, Victoria Hughes and Angelina Johnson!" The room fell silent in anticipation as the last name rolled off Gwenog's tongue. Ginny could not look away from her coach as she felt her own spirits rise. "Now get into those jerseys and show me why I've placed so much faith in you!" A fraction of a second after her teammates began to cheer, Ginny felt her own throat begin to burn as she joined them.

Unfortunately, that was where the fun ended for the day. Harry had prepared her well with all the jogging, swimming, exercises and light weights, but Gwenog still proved able to drill her, and the rest of the team, into the ground. The woman was a maniac. She could've cracked You-Know-Who's skull if she'd wanted to. No wonder the man never came to these parts. Come to think of it, Harry held that same edge, but his was sharper and yet more refined in a sense.

At the end of the day Ginny dragged her exhausted body out of the stadium. Her contract, no longer a secret, allowed her the freedom to come and go as she pleased. Before she could reach the doors a voice called to her from behind.

A weary pivot allowed her to see the source. "Harry." The name came out as a long tired breath as she tried to find the strength to be happy.

"That bad, huh?" Harry wrapped his arms around her and Ginny let herself sag into his hold.

"Feels good," Ginny mumbled into his chest. "Do you mind holding on to me for a few days while I recover?"

Harry's chest rumbled and his lips kissed the top of her head. "I'll hold you for longer, but that might exhaust you more."

"Probably." There was no point in arguing. "You do bring out the worst in me, Harry Potter."

"Well you don't seem to be giving me much opportunity for being good."

"You must've realized how wicked I am."

"At least you're my wicked witch."

She scrunched up her nose at the worst comment ever, but then smiled. "Wouldn't want it any other way." She pushed her tired limbs up and kissed him. It proved a good balm for her spirits. Loving arms holding her, a tender kiss, what more could she want. "I need a good long bath," she sighed discarding her own thoughts. She was allowed to be fickle at times.

"You could always come…"

She shook her head. "Mum has prepared a meal already. A celebration of sorts."

He looked crestfallen and slowly stuffed his hands into his pockets. "Oh, yeah. They'll want to be with you." He put on a brave face.

"We can just tell them about us," Ginny said hopefully. All this secrecy was beginning to wear her down.

His face paled and he looked panic stricken. "No, not yet. I…" he ruffled his hair. She couldn't help but notice how frustrated he appeared. It wasn't directed at her, but himself.

"It's alright, we can wait a while longer. But, Harry."

"Yes?" he urged her to continue.

"I really want to tell my family."

"I know. I want them to know. I really want to meet them. It's just…" Again he seemed so near to uttering words that he'd been holding back for weeks.

"Don't fret, Harry. We'll let things develop at its own pace."

He leaned back against the wall, letting his head rest against the stone. "Thanks, Ginny. I'm sorry. I just need time to resolve a few things."

"I know." She slipped under his arm and let him hold her. "I wish I knew what I know, but I understand." They stood in silence a while longer.

"I need to let you get home then." He eventually broke the moment. "Perhaps, Gwenog wants a drink."

Her heart went out to him, like it had so many times before. "We'll spend more time together soon, Harry."

He nodded. "As soon as I..."

"Sort a few things out," Ginny finished for him, while hoping it did not result in another bloodied Harry. "I get it, Harry."

She stood on tiptoes and kissed him goodbye. A very lonely Harry waved goodbye as the stadium vanished and the Burrow came into view.

The pace did not let up for the whole of the week and by Friday every last one of the Harpies practically crawled to the changing room. Ginny had not seen Harry since Monday and tonight they'd finally have some time together. Perhaps the lack of contact with him was what bugged her the most as she violently stuffed some of her things into a bag after taking a shower.

"Hey, Ginny," Katie called. Ginny's hand stopped trying to cram her jumper into the small bag. "We're all going to Diagon Alley tonight to celebrate surviving the first week. And by the looks of things." Katie glanced down at the mistreated item in Ginny's hands. "You need a little break."

"That obvious?" Ginny laughed. She'd promised the evening to Harry and honestly she'd rather be with him, but he'll understand that she needed to spend time with her teammates. Or she hoped he'd understand. "I just need to send an owl to say that I'll be going out."

"Great," Katie smiled. "We really would like to get to know you a little better."

"This week hasn't really been designed to build friendships." Ginny laughed and the women around her joined in.

"We don't call this Gwenog's Week of Hell for nothing," Victoria, the team captain and oldest player, joked. She was also one of the finest Chasers in the league and had led the Harpies to the final four years ago. She would've been Ginny's favourite player if not for Harry.

"All Harpies go to hell. I'm just warming them up," Gwenog laughed from her office door and everyone cheered. Ginny felt herself relax. She'd become worried over the week, but for the first time the team acted like a group of friends and not just teammates.

"Joining us, Gwenog?" Samantha asked and Ginny was struck again at how small the woman was for a Beater. Not that she was small, but Beater's tended to be bulky. The other Beater, Catherine, was only slightly bigger. Catherine's second cousin Alicia had played with Fred and George for Gryffindor and her brother, Mitchum Spinnet, plays for the Cannon's.

The coach shook her head. "You go ahead, Ladies. I'm seeing someone dear to my heart tonight." Her eyes shone with amusement and the entire team cheered as she disappeared.

"I really wonder about this mystery guy." Katie spoke to Ginny as they made their way out of the stadium to the Apparation point. "She's always going off to meet some wizard we've never seen." Katie stopped her. "Didn't you have an owl to send?"

"It's fine." Ginny worried a bit, but Harry was an understanding guy that understood the world of Quidditch. She worried for a moment about her parents, but then shrugged it off.

The entire team appeared in Diagon Alley before making a beeline for the Windswept Broom, a favourite hangout for the team apparently. Music blared rhythmically into the evening air even before they opened the door. Through the lit windows Ginny could make out the forms of people pressed together inside.

The team quickly found, or rather evicted a group of drunken wizards from a table in the one corner and settled down around it. A waiter, who appeared both frazzled by the mass of people and star struck by the witches at the table, barely managed to take their orders.

"What you get up to now that you are free from old Hogwarts?" Katie asked Ginny. The older girl seemed to really like her. It probably came from Katie having flown with her brothers at Hogwarts, though she never said anything about it. Ginny suspected, but could never really tell if Katie had dated either Fred or George.

"I've been busy," Ginny shouted in reply to get over the noise. "Gwenog had me training for a whole month already."

"She didn't!" Michelle, the lanky team Keeper, slammed her hand on the table in mock outrage. "She'll have you knackered before the season starts."

"Wasn't that bad." Ginny shrugged. Her throat was not going to last the evening's shouting. "I learned a lot."

They all nodded knowingly. The step up from school to professional had never been small. Most had a year or two of playing for a local club or in a second division team before being scouted by one of the major clubs. Even then few survived long.

Their drinks arrived and the girls fell into different conversations. It didn't take long for the question to come along. "Seeing anyone, Ginny?" The timing couldn't have been more perfect. The music faded just enough for the question to be heard by every Harpy around the table. It also did not help that she'd just taken a sip of her exotic cocktail. She choked and her cheeks reddened.

"I'll take that as a yes!" Angelina proclaimed gleefully. "So who is the lucky bastard?"

"Or unlucky," Samantha retorted.

"Is he a friend from your school days, or are you into older more world wise men?" This time it had been Victoria who'd spoken in a low voice.

Ginny tried to hide behind her drink. "Maybe he is just some pimple faced geek that she is too shy to talk about." Katie made as if she swooned. "But who can stand in the way of true love."

"He is not pimple faced nor from school!" Ginny said heatedly in defence of Harry.

"Oohhh," Catherine laughed. "So he is Mr. Mysterious. Some guy your parents wouldn't approve of I bet."

"No!" Ginny protested to the whole team's delight. "We're…" She calmed herself enough to reply with some dignity. "We're just keeping things quiet for now."

"A real mystery. I love this." Catherine continued. "So is he tall and devilishly handsome?" Ginny choked on her drink again. "He's a looker girls! The little minx in our team has bagged her a real man and she's not even famous yet."

"To Ginny," Katie lifted her glass. Her voice loud. "To bedding a man."

Ginny felt her entire body burn. "Oh she's really into this guy," Catherine roared with laughter. "So tell us, Gin. What's he do?"

"If I say then it might reveal the big secret," Ginny evaded, while being careful to not take any sips from her drink. She'd need to keep her wits about her tonight.

All the Harpies eyes were on her. "Come on Gin. Tell us the name of the guy you're dating!" Katie shouted, she was already tipsy.

A hand touched Ginny's shoulder causing her to jump. Her wand was in hand and pointed at the offending person. "Ron!" She glared at him. "Don't just sneak up on me like that."

"You're dating someone?" he asked with narrowed eyes. "How long were you planning on keeping this secret?"

"Until the time was right," Ginny huffed angrily as she crossed her arms beneath her breasts. Her wand still held tightly in her fist and in clear view.

"I'll leave you alone then," Ron said so only she could hear. "But, Ginny." He seemed slightly unsure of what to do now as he shifted his weigh between his feet. "Hermione asked if you could join us for dinner. I said that you would rather want to stay here, but she hasn't spoken to you in ages."

She bit down on her lip, but nodded. "It'll be good to talk to her again."

Ron made a stiff acknowledgement and turned to leave. Her whole team stared at her expectantly. "Brothers!" Ginny growled. "I'm sorry, ladies. Mystery guy will have to wait. I've been ordered by my future sister-in-law, I hope, to join them for dinner."

The Harpies frowned in frustration, but soon they were all cheering drunkenly again. She hugged each goodnight before leaving to find Ron and Hermione who stood waiting by the door. Together they found a much quieter restaurant and sat down.

"So how has training been going?" Hermione asked in rapid excitement. "Ron's been telling me how tough it's been for you this past month."

"Very," Ginny agreed. "I've barely had a moment to myself."

"Not busy enough if you ask me," Ron said bitterly as he scowled at the menu.

"Ron!" Hermione admonished. "She's allowed a boyfriend. Merlin knows she's been alone her whole life."

"Hey, she kissed that one bloke in sixth year," Ron protested. "That was enough contact."

"It was a stupid kiss because someone tricked us with some mistletoe." Ginny shivered at the memory. "This is different, Ron. He cares for me."

Hermione's eyebrow rose and Ginny could see the considering look in her friend's gaze. "So this is serious."

"I think so." Ginny nodded.

Ron muttered something under his breath again. "So when do we get to meet him?" Hermione asked hopefully. "I would love to see the man who's wormed his way past your defences." The unspoken past hung in the air briefly.

Ginny bit her lip nervously again. "It's a bit complicated at the moment." She searched for the most believable lie or partial truth. "We're trying to keep things quiet."

"Why?" Ron asked angrily and Ginny could see that Hermione was just as put out by the answer as him. "What you hiding?"

"We're not hiding anything, Ron!" Ginny replied heatedly. "Like I said it's just complicated at the moment."

"I know Gwenog doesn't like her players dating, but surely you can tell us."

Ginny shook her head. "I'm sorry, but I'm sure I'll be able to talk about it in a few weeks or a month."

Hermione, trusting as always, accepted the answer. Ron appeared a bit more torn. "Promise you won't tell mum." Ginny pleaded. "The two of us need time to sort things out. We need the time, Ron."

His face contorted, grew red then purple. "If you tell them then it might destroy everything we've built. Please, Ron, promise."

He fidgeted with the napkin on the table. Every part of his being appeared in conflict, but eventually the tension vanished slightly and he nodded. "I don't like this, but I trust you, Ginny. Just remember if this guy ends up hurting or shaming you..." He let the threat hang in the air.

Ginny laughed, letting all her fears go, and hugged her brother. "Thanks, Ron."

"Just don't expect me to like the idea."

"So, moving along from me," Ginny continued on a much happier note. "How are things developing between the pair of you?"

Ron's ears turned red like any good Weasleys. "He's just being modest in front of you," Hermione whispered conspiratorially to Ginny. "Things are going well."

"Very well," Ron managed to say. It surprised Ginny when he reached across the table to take hold of his girlfriend's hand.

"I'm glad for the two of you." Ginny said raising her glass.

"And for you and your new guy," Hermione replied as she clinked her glass with Ginny's.

"So do I know him?" Ron mumbled as he too clinked his glass with Hermione's and Ginny's.

Ginny made as if she were deep in thought. "You know who he is and you have seen him."

Her brother frowned. "Hmmm, I'll have to do some thinking."

"Stop trying to figure everything out. Your sister's private life is not some case for you to solve."

Ron looked gobsmacked. "Did you just tell me to not solve something?" His eyes were wide with disbelief. He even looked at his half empty glass. "The waiter better bring more of this stuff."

Hermione narrowed her lips, but her amusement was plain to see. Ron continued to mumble until the sound of a foot connecting a shin came from beneath the table. He pouted like only her brother could. "Oh, alright. I'm just looking out for her you know." He bent down to rub his leg. "That was bloody sore, Hermione."

Ginny wanted to laugh, but her brother's love and devotion made her stop. "I know, Ron. But you can believe me when I say that he is a decent bloke."

"You didn't meet him in some club with your girl buddies from earlier, did you?"

Ginny laughed. "No, I did not meet him at some random club. In fact, we had been floating around one another for a while before dating. So I knew him to be different."

"Alright," he said throwing his arms up in the air. "I believe you. This guy is half decent and might be sort of worthy, by a hair I say, of you."

Ginny glanced across at Hermione. "He'll be for and against the bloke until after the wedding," Hermione joked.

"Merlin, Ginny! You're not seriously considering marrying the guy already?"

Ginny stroked her ring finger slowly. "You never know. Bells might be ringing soon."

"Bloody hell, let me at this tosser now," Ron mock scowled. "How will he know how to throw a decent bachelors without Fred and George." He paled slightly. "Merlin forbid Percy organizing it."

"That would be perfect." Both Hermione and Ginny agreed in unison.

"Just imagine, Ginny, a bachelors where the groom sat reading laws on marriage."

"If only such a perfect event existed," Ginny sighed blissfully.

Hermione gave Ron a dangerous stare. "You weren't thinking of anything your mother wouldn't approve of."

Ron fiddled with his napkin again. "No, of course not. Just a good wizards night with a pint or two. You know, a manly bonding session, nothing funny. What do you think of me, Hermione?"

"I know enough to keep Fred and George as guests only." Ginny said with a raised eyebrow.

"And that's dangerous enough," Hermione added.

After the first round of drinks, Ron excused himself to get another drink.

"So," Hermione leaned closer to Ginny. "Is there anything you'll be willing to tell me."

Ginny shook her head regretfully. "Not really. He's older than me, four or five years I think. I haven't really asked his exact age. Hermione," Ginny's voice became deadly serious. "There is something really different about him. I think he really understands me."

"How so?" Her friend asked.

Ginny chewed her lip, wondering how much she should say. "He fought in the war. I know that he was tortured by Death Eaters."

"Really?" Hermione sounded surprised.

"I can see it in his eyes. He has been through some tough things. I'm still not sure of what exactly, but I think he might be the first person who can truly begin to understand what I went through in my first year."

"If he really is a decent guy and if he really can relate to what you went through, then I think you've found yourself a keeper."

Ginny smiled. "We have a way to go, but I really think I might have found the guy."

Ginny went home with Ron. Rather she dragged her brother's tired and drunken body towards the Burrow.

Both her parents sat outside waiting. "You've decided to come home," her mother said with slight agitation.

"So…rr…y," Ron hiccupped. "My... fau... lt."

"I'll just put him inside," Ginny managed to say as she heaved her brother up the porch steps and into the living room. When he was asleep she went back outside to sit beside her parents. "Sorry, the team wanted to have a little get together. It was such a rush I forgot to let you know that I'd be very late."

"Oh, that's okay," her father said from beside her mother. His arm was wrapped tightly around her. "Your mother is just having a hard time adjusting to you being a grown woman."

"I'm sorry, mum," Ginny said to her mother. "It's just been so hectic these past few weeks. So much has happened and I've learned so much. And with the season only three weeks away we need to become a team."

"I know, dear," her mother replied. She sniffed and wiped at her moist cheeks. "I've just been edgy these past few days. I think I better go up to bed."

"Night, mum." Ginny hugged her mother and watched as she disappeared into the house.

"She is just a bit confused," he said once they were alone. "After having raised seven children it's a bit hard to stop mothering them."

Ginny could only nod in agreement. "I'll really try to be more open about my whereabouts."

"No need for that, Ginny." He patted her knee and smiled. "You are eighteen and a witch that can come and go as she pleases. Your mother, and even I at times, just need to remember that you're not our little princess anymore."

"Thanks, dad." She hugged him tightly. It always felt good to be held by him. There was something strong and comforting about having a father's protection. She always felt safe

and comfortable near him. It felt similar with Harry, she realized. When he held her, or when her head rested on his chest, she felt this same comfort and protection. Then again with Harry there was also so much more. Her father pulled away.

"What your mother would also like is for you to bring your boyfriend over for dinner."

"What?" Ginny said in alarm. "What makes you think there's a guy in my life."

He chuckled. "We're not idiots, Ginny. We may be old and senile, but we can still see the signs of love. It was the same with Bill just after he met Fleur, Fred with his new girlfriend, Ron with Hermione. And you, my little girl, are the most obvious of the lot."

"Really?" she moaned, not wanting to believe.

"It radiates from you. Your eyes are alive and you have an extra bounce in your step. Honestly, I would like to meet the man who makes my little girl so happy."

Ginny rested her head against her father's shoulder. "I hope you get to meet him soon too, dad. To quote Hermione. 'I think you've found yourself a keeper.'"

"Then bring him here." He pushed slightly. "We won't bite."

She sat up straighter. "Not just yet. We need to talk a few things through before we reach that stage."

He looked slightly unhappy, but nodded. "I understand. But can you at least tell me who he is?"

She moved slightly closer to him and he wrapped an arm around her shoulder. Somehow he always made her feel small, but in a good way. "Do you know of any young men who fought in the Order? I know he was tortured or at least badly hurt by Death Eaters during the war."

"Ginny, the war ended over four years ago. No men your age fought."

"He's about four years older than me," Ginny explained. Her father's arm tensed slightly then relaxed again.

"There were a few, yes."

"He fought in the war. He's good man, dad." She urged and was rewarded with a warm smile. "I'll bring him as soon as I can, but I need your trust and mum's."

"We've always trusted and believed in you, Ginny." He held her tight.

They sat in silence for another few minutes watching the moon and stars until Ginny bid goodnight and made to go inside. Ginny turned to study him, but he remained sitting outside, his mind somewhere far away.

Ginny arrived at the same park in Little Whinging she stormed away from a few weeks prior. Despite Kreacher's glare, he had been kind enough to tell her where to find Harry. With her parents now knowing about a man in her life allowed her to leave the house, rather than sneak, without too many considering glances or guilty thoughts from her side. She'd been honest with her father; she would bring Harry to meet them. The when just needed to be decided.

"Morning." She missed a step when she saw the red eyes of a man who'd not slept a minute. He sat in the same bench as before. "What happened?"

He tried to smile. "Morning, how did the girls night out go?" It was a valiant, but futile effort at sounding normal.

She sat beside him, feeling guilty, but not sure about what to say. "Short, I actually spent most of the evening with Ron and his girlfriend, Hermione."

"Oh." He nodded.

"What's wrong, Harry." She almost pleaded. "You've got to talk to me at some point." He fidgeted as if he wanted to say more. "What happened to you during the war?" The question needed to be asked. She'd been avoiding it for weeks already, but for some reason he seemed to be near the brink of talking.

"I killed people," Harry whispered as he stared up at the distant trees moving with the morning breeze.

"Many people killed Death Eaters, Harry. It was either that or be killed." She gripped his hand. "Bill and Charlie did, they told me."

"So much was my fault." He spoke as if he had not heard a word she'd said. "If I'd only been quicker, so much wouldn't have happened. So many lives would not have been wasted."

Tears formed and leaked down his cheeks. She brushed them away tenderly, each time replacing her hand with soft lips. "You were still young, Harry. I'm sure everyone who fought feels as if they could've done more."

"But I could've made a difference!" he said with surprising force. Waves of energy flowed out from him, something she'd only experienced around Dumbledore. Then it faded. "I'm sorry, Ginny." His voice was barely louder than the morning breeze. "I shouldn't…" He swallowed and tried to sound happy. "So tell me about your evening."

Just like that he bottled his emotions. "You can talk about it," she urged not wanting him to slip away. "Don't hide from me, please." She let her head rest against his shoulder.

A gentle hand brushed a stray hair from her slightly damp face. "I don't mean to hide, Ginny."

"I've done things I wished could've been different," she began to say. She took a slow deep breath and began. "In my first year at Hogwarts someone gave me a diary…"

"You," Harry said in a very faint voice. "I… bloody hell!" Ginny jerked away from his shoulder as his entire body began to tremble. His hands clutched his forehead and he screamed.

"Harry!" She called out frantically. His entire body convulsed. Unsure of what else to do, she shook him repeatedly in the hope of helping. "Harry!" His ashen face and wide pain filled eyes stared up at her, pleading almost for relief. Nothing she did made any difference. The seizures refused to stop.

Dumbledore would know what to do and not knowing where else to go she summoned her energy and Apparated the two of them to the front gate of Hogwarts, fortunately the first day of school was still a couple of weeks away.

Using a few charms she managed to float Harry. The path towards the school seemed endless and more than once she wished for one of the carriages. Harry's screams lessoned on the way, but the trembling did not lesson and his face remained pale and moist.

The front door was closed forced Ginny to push it open with some effort. Inside the building felt eerie in its stillness. It took a moment to come terms with the emptiness. Especially since all the portraits stared down at her and Harry. Even though she could not hear them she could see them jumping between various paintings.

Shaking her head, Ginny trudged further into the vast school. Some part hoped to run into one of the professors, another part feared what they would say. Eventually, she burst into the infirmary. "Madame Pomfrey!" she called out. No one responded. Glancing down at Harry, her worry increased. "Can't they hear my shouts?"

She cursed before making her way through the various corridors towards the Headmaster's office. Her anger grew steadily as the portraits continued to follow them, their whispers loud in its stillness. Harry cried out again, but it too lessoned gradually and eventually he grew still again. After an almost endless walk she rounded the last corner before the Headmaster's office. The twin Gargoyles stood menacingly outside.

"Let me in!" Not in the mood for animated creatures she shouted at them. "I need to speak with Professor Dumbledore immediately."

"Not without a password," the one stone statue said.

"She's always been a rather rude one, hasn't she," the second said to the first.

"Harry's in pain and I need to speak to the Headmaster!" Ginny shouted, her cheeks blazing red in anger and worry.

"It's quite alright," the calming voice of Dumbledore spoke as he rounded the far corner. "What seems to be the problem, Miss Weasley?" It was then that he looked at Harry,

who she had placed gently on the ground beside her. His bright blue eyes widened and he rushed to Harry's side. For a brief moment those eyes had been filled with fear.

"It's Harry. I told him about…" she stuttered. "About you know…"

A soft breath escaped Dumbledore's lips. "Yes, Miss Weasley." He did not ask why she was with Harry or how she knew him. He seemed to take it all for granted.

"The Chamber… and…" She tried speaking between her confused thoughts and growing anxiety.

"I see," the Headmaster replied as he got to his feet. He sounded relieved. "I have been waiting for this moment all summer. Well ever since Miss Jones informed me about Harry being asked to coach you."

Ginny wiped the dampness away from her cheeks. "But… what's wrong with him?"

Dumbledore looked weary. The expression reminded her of the last few months of the war. "It is the reaction one gets when breaking through a very strong memory charm, Miss Weasley."

"Memory charm?" she questioned. "Why would he have a memory charm?"

"To protect him from what happened," Dumbledore replied quickly. "You see, Miss Weasley. Harry was the man who rescued you from the Chamber of..."

Ginny drew back her arm to slap the Headmaster, but she refrained. Her emotions barely bottled. "How could you block his memory?" She brought the hand back up on impulse, ready to strike, but a deep breath later it sank bank down again. "Why?" Ginny glared dangerously at the Headmaster until she realised who she was talking to. "I'm... I... sorry, Professor... I shouldn't..."

Dumbledore did not move, nor raise a hand or voice in defence. "I'm sorry you feel this way." She really wanted to strike the man, but somehow she'd overcome her usual Weasley impulsiveness. "You were unconscious when he entered the Chamber and slept until he left so you would never have seen him. Harry on the other hand suffered severe trauma from what he experienced. A few days after the incident, while he was thrashing in his bed screaming, we decided that it would be best to hide the memory."

"And what do you think I suffered!" Ginny shouted, her anger coming back with full force. This time her palm left its mark on the old man's cheek. She felt no sympathy yet, but she would later. "You think I was never affected by what happened to me in my first year?"

"Of course you suffered, Miss Weasley. Your trauma, however, spanned over an entire year and not a few hours, we could not hide your memories." He looked ashamed. "I'm sorry, Miss Weasley, but all options available to us would only have damaged your fragile state further."

Ginny breathed rapidly as her anger rolled off her in waves. "We all wished that there had been more for us to do, but an event so large could not be removed so effortlessly without severe complications." He held up his hands and sighed regretfully. Those usual sparkling blue eyes were muted.

She fell back against the cold stone wall and slid to the floor. Her knees pulled up against her chest allowed her arms to encircle her shins. "Why did he save me?" The words barely left her mouth. "He could not have been more than fourteen or fifteen."

Dumbledore nodded. "He was too young to witness what he did and to accept what had needed to be done." The man looked away thoughtfully. "Perhaps he would have been strong enough, but no boy of his age needs such memories."

"Why?" she asked.

"I'm not sure what your relationship is with, Mr. Potter, but I think this is something that he will need to reveal himself." He smiled apologetically at her. "Do not be afraid. Harry is a good man."

"Do my parents know him?" Ginny asked with a sniff. "My dad said there were a few young men who fought in the war."

Dumbledore considered her question for a moment. "They know of him, but they do not know him. Harry led a rather secluded life during the war and his tasks for the Order were always of the utmost secrecy."

Ginny glanced across the hall. Harry had woken and was staring right at her with confused green eyes. Black hair stood in all directions and his skin remained ghostly pale.

Dumbledore nodded absently to himself. "I'll leave the two of you alone." He faced Ginny. "He is well. He'll just be a bit tired for the rest of the day."

She nodded dumbly and watched as the Headmaster disappeared into his office.

Harry, still pale, helped her up onto her feet. "That was…" His voice hoarse. "Unpleasant."

He threw an arm around Ginny's shoulder and rested some of his weight on her. "You saved me," she whispered.

He ran his other hand through matted hair. "Apparently so."

Ginny sat on Harry's couch, a hot cup of tea between her hands, with feet tucked beneath her. She wore one of Harry's old orange practise jerseys. Her hair, damp from showering, hung over her shoulders. Both had needed to unwind after leaving Hogwarts.

"Well firstly my team managed to get me to spill that I'm seeing a guy. Thankfully they got no more from me. The problem was that my brother overheard and so he knows that I'm seeing someone."

"That bad?" He still looked so tired. "I'm sorry I missed it."

She punched him playfully; hoping to spark some life. "No, it's just that I didn't tell him that I'm seeing you." He nodded in understanding. "My parents also know that I'm seeing someone."

"How?" he coughed.

"Apparently they have the ability to read my mind." Her voice sounded mysterious and he narrowed his eyes at her. "Oh, alright. It seems that I have been a little too happy over the past few weeks. According to them it's a sure sign of a Weasley dating."

"So do they want to meet me?" Harry asked tentatively.

She nodded. "Of course, but I told them that we still needed some time."

Harry sighed audibly. "It's not that I don't want to meet them, Ginny. I just need to talk to you about everything and fix the mess that's my life before I bring them into my life."

Ginny shrugged. "What more can there be that you're not telling me. You fought in the war and killed Death Eaters, just like so many others in the Order."

Harry laughed nervously. "It's pretty big." He leaned across the couch to kiss her. "I need to make a few decisions."

"What decisions?" she asked.

His gaze grew haunted. "I know that it's wrong of me. I now know what's been haunting you." He took hold of her hand and rubbed her palm with his thumb. "But I need you to trust me."

She was worried. "Dumbledore said you are a good man."

Harry nodded. "He does tend to see the best in people." He did not let his eyes be diverted from hers. "Do you want to stay for dinner?"

"Sure," she replied and he kissed her forehead. "So can you tell me about the Chamber and why you rescued me?" He leaned back against the couch. "It was inside Hogwarts, you were fifteen. So why didn't Dumbledore or one of the other teachers come to rescue me?"

"Because they couldn't," Harry began. "Well not without me at least." He gave a winning smile, which quickly faded into nothing. "I'm kind of special."

She turned around and let her head, damp hair and all, rest on his lap. From her new vantage point she could stare up into his green eyes as he looked down at her. He began to slowly run his fingers through the long tendrils of her hair.

"You know what was in the Chamber, and you know who created the Chamber."

Ginny nodded. "It was created by a Slytherin and there is a Basilisk in it."

"Was a Basilisk, Ginny." Harry grinned. "Do you know why you were able to open the Chamber?"

Ginny frowned slightly. This was probably the only part of her story she'd left out. Tom Riddle had filled her mind with some knowledge, but only that which she needed to do his bidding. She shivered and then decided that if he loved her then it would not matter. "I could... can speak Parseltongue," Ginny whispered. The shame rose up in her and she tried to run away.

A firm arm held her still. "So can I," Harry hissed and Ginny froze. Thankfully his voice returned to normal. "Like you, the ability was implanted into my mind as a child." She fell back onto the couch. "Only I could've opened the passageways that led to you."

"But why did you fight the Basilisk?" She asked. Her finger trailed up and down his arm. Harry really was like her. She should've been frightened, but his words only strengthened her feelings towards him. She really did love him.

"A part of the tunnel collapsed behind me. It would've taken too long for me to wait so I continued on ahead by myself." His voice trembled. "You were so small, lying in a ball, hair splayed across the dark stone floor. He stood over you, laughing..." his voice trailed off. "I destroyed the Basilisk then drove one of its fangs through the diary, killing the... memory."

She let her head fall against his shoulder. He tried to open his mouth to say more, but she stopped him with a hand over his lips. "Not tonight, Harry." She curled up against him for comfort. "If I learn one more thing today I'll go mad." There was no reason to talk about it anymore, for now at least. He'd been there, that was enough for her.

"I love you," Harry whispered. Ginny felt her body warm at the sound of his voice and the meaning of the words.

She rolled slightly to look straight up at him. "I love you too, Harry." The words spoken aloud confirmed what her mind had thought. Within her, in a part she did not know existed, Ginny knew that what they both had said went far deeper than any school girl crush.

He smiled and the intensity of those greens eyes shouted a million times louder than any sound that his words came from the same place as hers. Ginny's lips curved into a smile and he bent down to kiss her. It must've been an awkward position for him, but his lips were moist and unusually soft against hers.

Ginny Apparated home late that evening. She said good night to her parents and quietly slipped into bed. The pale moon shone through her window. Despite the hour, Ginny could not fall asleep. Not even her eyelids dared to close.

Tomorrow was Sunday, a day during the week in which nothing had to be done. Perhaps if something needed to be done the next day she would have been able to fall asleep. Instead her mind ran through memories, some distant and vague, others vibrant and disturbing. Her fingers clutched the end of her duvet and brought it up to her chin. Nothing but freckles, red hair and brown eyes remained visible.

Downstairs the sound of her parents moving about created a sense of calm. The familiarity of the noise provided comfort. Family always made her feel save. But the minutes ticked by and eventually her parents had moved up to their room and the house had grown silent. Alone with nothing but her thoughts, Ginny tossed about until the sun rose. Only then did sleep overtake her.

The remaining weeks before the season passed in blur after the events of the weekend. Gwenog kept Ginny and the rest of the team ruthlessly busy. Training left her too tired to think and the hours too long for much time to be with Harry.

Harry walked along the busy streets of London. His hands had settled themselves deep within the pockets of his jeans. Anxiously, he kept staring around. It was stupid, the chances of anyone recognising him here was almost nothing, but certain instincts could not be changed.

Shop after shop passed by. None held what he wanted, yet he knew exactly what he needed. Why he wanted it he could still not fathom. The idea both thrilled and petrified him. Still the very idea felt natural. That evening after his block had been broken confirmed it.

Harry came to a halt after a journey that had felt like an eternity; though the walk had been little more than five minutes. Nervously he took a step towards the glass window and his eyes widened. Before him were rows of rings; gold, silver, platinum and Merlin knew what else. Jerkily he wiped at his face, which had suddenly grown damp.

"You look like you need some help," a firm voice spoke from the entrance. The voice belonged to a middle aged woman dressed so primly that it left no doubt about her usual clientele. Her eyes narrowed slightly as if she were considering whether Harry was worth her effort; though probably more in an attempt to chase him away.

"Well, ummm…" He felt caught. Up until now this had been his idea and his alone. "Yes, thank you." Harry moved away from the front and slipped passed the woman into the shop.

"We have some nice silver rings in the far corner." Her voice barely remained civil. Outside, Harry had been nothing but a hindrance that needed removing. Inside, he was even worse for business. The jeans and shirt probably did not do him any justice.

"I was thinking more along the lines of platinum." Harry spun on his heel and made his way along the plush deep red carpet to the slightly more expensive section of an already expensive jeweller.

A man, similar in build to his uncle, sat in a tailored pin striped suit glaring at Harry before turning back to the diamond ring in his hand. The lady helping him looked slightly alarmed. The seemingly casual glance between the co-workers made it clear they wanted Harry out of there before any more damage could be done.

"Yes, this section is for our more esteemed clients. Those who prefer quality and excellence above price." She paused long enough to take a quick breath. "I'm sure we can find you a nice trinket or something interesting…"

Harry took a deep breath and gave the woman a flat stare that cut off her words. The silence was welcoming. "Thank you," Harry began as calmly as he could manage. "I am looking and willing to pay for whatever you have in this…" his arms waved about the area in which he stood. He let his voice fill with as much displeasure as he could manage, "section."

The man by the counter grumbled under his breath and Harry had to fight the urge to not compare the man to his uncle. Another deep breath later he had relaxed enough to let a wry smile form on his lips. It is usually so much fun when people underestimate him.

"If you insist," the woman grumbled. "Cassandra, help this gentleman please."

A much younger woman approached, obviously a recruit of some sort. The older woman whispered and Harry listened in with a casually wave of his left hand. "You can have the commission, but just keep him out of the way."

Cassandra frowned at her boss, but she did manage to give Harry the first genuine smile he'd received in the store. "Hi, I'm Cassandra, and I will be helping you today."

"Harry," he greeted.

"I overheard that you were looking for something platinum." He nodded and she continued as she began to point at various rings. "Well as you heard, this is a rather exclusive store, and these are the pride of our jeweller. The diamonds are all perfectly cut with no imperfections." She hesitated slightly. "Accordingly the prices are rather steep, Harry."

He grinned and Cassandra laughed. His voice dropped to a whisper. "I've not seen anything I can't afford multiple times over with ease, Cassandra."

She choked slightly, which earned another stern look from the other co-workers. "Well, then we best get looking, Harry." She began to remove a series of rings from the exhibits.

The process was slower than he'd expected and the options more varying than anticipated. Up until this point a ring had always just been a ring. The various types of

cuts alone had him looking cross eyed. Then there were different types of bands; thick, thin, curved, engraved, and another long list. And it seemed the jeweller had a ring for each combination.

His eye did, however, linger the longest on a particular one. It had been since nearly the beginning. The moment he saw it, he knew that it was the right one.

"Still looking at the same ring?" Cassandra asked.

"Yes." He picked the ring up slowly while turning it around. The diamond was dazzling in its reflection of light. "I don't know. I just can't help thinking about Ginny when I look at it."

Cassandra beamed up at him. "Well if that's the case then why bother taking something else."

"Why bother indeed." Harry spoke to himself and then the decision became so much clearer in his mind. He truly loved Ginny and doubted another woman would ever be able to understand and love him as much she did. Just as importantly he doubted strongly that any other woman would ever be able to invoke the same feelings within him. In fact none had ever even come close. With a smile he said, "I'll take it."

Cassandra almost squealed with delight. Looking at the ring amongst the others you would never have guessed that it was one of the most expensive. It was not large and did not try to impress, but at its core the ring was perfect. Just like Ginny.

Harry arrived back at the flat to find an owl with an invitation.

The whistle blew far down below from where Gwenog stood. Ginny sat up on her broom and began a leisurely descent down to the pitch. With the whistle came an end to the pre-season practise sessions. The first games would be over the weekend, and then it would be the Harpies turn. In less than a week Ginny would be playing her first game.

The other players laughed and cheered while Gwenog smiled and spoke to each as they walked past her. The sight made Ginny realise how much she had truly missed flying and being around Harry all day.

Coming round the one set of rings Ginny began to focus on the game again. In few days time she would be welcomed to the world as a Harpy Seeker. Her face stretched into a proud smile as she swooped passed the empty seat where Harry had spoken to her all those years ago. Eventually the flight ended as she landed beside Gwenog.

"You're looking great," Gwenog praised.

"I'm nervous, but I've never been better." The reply came easily. Gwenog patted Ginny's shoulder and together they began a slow walk towards the changing rooms.

"How are things with Harry?" The question came unexpectedly.

The answer was easily given, however. "Brilliant. But it's been difficult to find time for each other."

"It's tough being a professional. The hours have never been forgiving."

Ginny could only nod. The past few weeks had been a real eye opener. Lost in thought she missed what Gwenog had said.

"Excuse me, I missed that last part."

"Are you ready for the function tonight?"

"Function! Tonight?" she shrieked loudly.

Gwenog shook her head laughing. "Yes, the annual pre-season function. It's in the schedule I gave you."

"Oh, yes, of course." Ginny tried to get her thoughts together. "Sorry, forgot it was tonight." Her mind spun, she'd never gone through the schedule.

"Harry will be there."

With a sudden screech the calm evening spent relaxing went out the window. "Right… Should be interesting."

"Very." Ginny had to wonder how much her coach enjoyed tormenting people. "Harry will probably be getting his invite about now." The woman laughed and Ginny got her answer.

Ginny, flustered in her haste, arrived awkwardly at the function in a black Muggle dress Hermione lent her for the evening. The odd Muggle material fit the curves of her form snuggly, perhaps a little too so. Her hands kept trailing down her side to adjust some part in an effort to make sure it was still on. The black high heels, something she'd never worn before, furthered her problems as she nearly stumbled into a nearby plant.

Regaining her composure and balance, Ginny edged further along the plush red carpet and into the reception room. All the while her eyes desperately scanned the crowd for any sign of the Harpies; a small part hoped to find Harry. Thankfully it did not take long to find a group of women standing together. The wary wizards walking wide circles around them combined with the smooth swaggers of a few over confident ones further highlighted the Harpies. At least their dresses made Ginny's look tame. Tension she'd not realised had been there left her system rapidly, making her feel slightly light headed.

She took a step, a clumsy one, and her ankle twisted over the right heel for the tenth time since leaving the house. This time she knew her balance would lose the battle against gravity. Newspaper headlines flashed through her mind, but even as the fall began it stopped. A gentle but firm hand held her shoulder. "Easy there, miss." The familiar voice of Harry spoke from behind.

It took all her will power to not turn around and kiss him. His presence, however, removed the last vestiges of anxiety. Like having one of her brothers or father around; she felt comfortable and safe.

He slipped past, but his hand lingered slightly longer on her shoulder. "Take care. These events do tend to drag on." His green eyes flicked across her dress before returning to her eyes. A smile lingered on his lips.

She gulped, people were staring at them. "Thank you, Potter."

He gave a charming smile and held out a hand. "It's Harry."

Her arm extended towards him and he took it carefully. "Ginny."

Green eyes sparkled back. "Mind if I get you a drink?"

"They're free," Ginny countered. He grinned and shrugged, which made Ginny bite her bottom lip nervously. The lipstick felt odd, another thing she was not used to. All the while her entire team stood watching the exchange. "Perhaps later." Ginny forced a smile. She really wanted to stay with him, to be held in his arms. "But my team's waiting."

A few wizards, all trying hard to listen, came closer. "Of course, you were signed by the Harpies." His smile grew as he spoke loud enough for the few journalists around to overhear. "Congratulations."

"Thank you." A bright flash from a camera made her blink.

"Until later then, Ginny." He turned away slowly and made his way towards the bar. Immediately he was intercepted by a group of long legged witches. For a moment she found herself staring after them jealously. The feeling, lessoned, but did not vanish the moment he politely ignored them to make his way to Oliver Wood, the Cannon's captain.

"Ginny!" Katie shrieked loudly at her arrival. "Eyeing up the handsomest man in the place?"

"He came to speak with me." Ginny tried to regain her composure. Harry did have a way to flip her world upside down. "I didn't even know it was him until he started talking."

Katie just nodded as if she did not understand a single word. "Just try to remember that other man of yours while flirting with men."

"I did not flirt!" Her cheeks tinged red.

The rest of the Harpies began to laugh. "Well with all that eyelash movement and those longing puppy dog eyes. Ginny, I thought you were about to jump poor old lonely Harry there for a moment. And don't forget that all too subtle fall over your own feet."

"I was not," she harrumphed. "And it was not a planned stumble! I don't wear heels." But the looks of pity from her teammates made her sigh in defeat and decide to go along.

"Get this girl a drink," Samantha called out to the barman. "She might need a few to loosen up."

"Coming right up." The man behind the counter eyed Ginny. It made her skin crawl as she turned around shivering. The dress began to feel really tight.

"So?" Katie took a sip from her glass.

Ginny narrowed her eyes worriedly while the uncomfortable feeling of being studied slowly diminished. "What?" she asked in defeat.

"So… where is your guy? We were sure he'd be all over an event like this." Victoria nodded slowly at Katie's words, but said nothing.

Ginny glanced over Katie's shoulder to where Harry was still busy having an intense conversation with Oliver. The two men seemed lost in their own world. Their hands moved about as if mimicking the movements of Quidditch players.

"He's busy tonight," Ginny finally replied. The sound of her voice must have been convincing.

Katie frowned and then reached towards the counter where the bartender had placed Ginny's drink. "Here you go. Try to enjoy yourself."

She took a tentative sip from the drink. Her mind trying to recall her brothers' advice about accepting drinks. "Will try my best."

"That's my Harpy." She slapped Ginny on the back just as she took another sip. Naturally it caused her to cough embarrassingly.

Katie seemed only slightly ashamed as she moved away to talk to some other people who turned out to be a group of wealthy young wizards with egos to match their Galleons. Ginny frowned and turned away only to bump into Gwenog. "So what's this event all about?"

Her coach shrugged. "The same nonsense as every year. The Minister and all the witches and wizards of the Wizengamot trying their best to get people to love them. The rich and famous trying to draw even more attention. Teams glare at each other while trying to size up their opposition." She took a slow sip from her cocktail. "Other coaches move about trying to sign players or get information. In the end it's all just polite backstabbing really."

"Sounds like fun," Ginny tried to sound optimistic.

Angelina, who'd approached while Gwenog spoke, rolled her eyes. "Just wait 'till the speeches. Last year Minister Kingsley spoke for almost an hour."

"Don't remind me," Gwenog moaned. "I think Potter was the only one listening."

"Please, Gwenog!" Angelina laughed. "You were captivated by all that talk about the war and how Quidditch is paving the way for a new improved Britain."

Gwenog groaned, but caved in. "He was talking sense."

Angelina stopped enjoying herself at their coach's expense as she glanced over Ginny's shoulder. The woman's lips turned into a mischievous grin as she raised her glass to take a drink. It seemed all too casually.

"Miss Weasley." The warm voice of Harry sent chills up Ginny's spine. She gave Angelina a quick glare for not warning her. The woman just smiled wider.

Taking a deep breath, Ginny was determined to act calm. It was shattered, however, the moment she stumbled upon trying to turn. Harry caught her in his arms before she could fall. "Merlin!" Ginny said loudly. "I hate these shoes."

Harry steadied Ginny to the delight of the rest of the Harpies. Though a few wizards were glaring at Harry and numerous witches stared daggers at Ginny. "I doubt I'd do any better with those long thin things myself."

"I'm sure you could do better," Ginny replied.

He glanced down at her drink. "I was going to offer to get you a drink, but it seems your friends beat me to it."

"They do try to look after me."

"Yes, Potter," Angelina chimed in as she rested an arm over Ginny's shoulder. "We do take care of our own."

"I've heard as much." Harry quirked an eyebrow, but Ginny could see the unease growing beneath the surface. He really just wanted to talk with her.

"Perhaps after the speeches." She raised her glass. "And maybe if my drink is done."

He gave a grateful smile. "I look forward to it, Miss Weasley."

He bid farewell and went to join the Cannons. "He really does seem a bit taken by you." This time it was Victoria who spoke. "I don't think I've ever seen him walk over to another witch."

"Been studying him much?" Catherine laughed.

Victoria shook her head vigorously. "No, but he does tend to keep to himself at these events."

Ginny forced herself to not stare longingly after Harry. "He does seem nice though."

"I guess," Victoria shrugged. "I only really talked to him once, we traded scarves."

Ginny nodded and tried to clear her mind of Harry. The evening was going to be long enough without having to long after him.

Shacklebolt usually spoke well; his ideas both profound and daring. This year the speech droned on, and the seat became increasingly uncomfortable. In the past Harry'd been far more attentive, having family seats in the Wizengamot, but this year a certain redhead was on his mind; a very distracting redhead.

Leaning back carefully, he managed to sneak a glance in the direction of the Harpies table. Ginny sat looking as radiant as the moment he found her standing by the entrance. The black dress had and was still turning heads. A slight hint of jealousy, and a good doze of anger, had crept in upon hearing various wizards commenting about her. How could he blame them though? Ginny's athletic build and firm legs were driving him crazy.

It took a few seconds of clapping before Harry noticed that the speech had come to an end. He, of course, joined in until the clapping died down and people began to move about. With their stomachs full the real party was about to begin.

"Hanging about this year?" Oliver asked from beside Harry.

"Excuse me?" Harry replied distractedly while he searched for Ginny.

"Usually you are gone the second your hands stop clapping."

Harry shrugged. "Maybe I'll stick around and see what really goes on. It's not like I have to get a good night's sleep this year."

Oliver made no sign of understanding. He had always been slightly strange and obsessive. "Well I'm off. Alicia is waiting for me at home."

Glancing up at Oliver and away from the on-going search for Ginny, Harry was caught slightly by surprise. The man looked drained. "You alright there, Oliver?"

The Keeper smiled slightly. "I'm fine. Just busy you know; pre-season things and being captain and all."

Harry stood. "Yeah, but usually you are all fired up and roaring to go by now."

The Cannon's captain nodded. "It's just been a long few months, but I'm sure now that things are back in motion I'll relax again. Waiting for the games to begin has never been good for me."

"Sure?"

"I hope so." Oliver did not sound convinced of his own words. "But I need to be getting home." Harry wanted to help his friend, but there was little to be done here. In the end he shook Oliver's hand and bid him goodnight.

Standing alone and with no one else around to distract himself from Ginny, Harry tentatively touched the inside pocket of his jacket. The small rectangular box and its comforting weight were still there. His hand dropped away, trembling. Then he saw her, radiant and smiling. His heart quickened its pace as their eyes met.

Mechanically his legs began to move, he could not have stopped even if he willed it. Before a moment passed, or maybe hours had, he reached her. This close he had to take another deep calming breath while he forced his shaking hands into his trouser pockets.

"Miss Weasley, we meet again," he said trying to sound as calm and normal as possible. Behind Ginny, the rest of the Harpies were keeping a keen eye on things. They were getting really annoying.

"Three times goes beyond chance, Harry. I think you are trying to get more from me."

"I owe you a drink, if my memory serves me correctly."

"You sure do!" Katie Bell, a Harpies Chaser, called out from behind.

"Um… thank you, Miss Bell," Harry said over Ginny's shoulder. "And I promise to keep it to a single drink."

Ginny stifled a laugh as she glanced back to see a pouting Katie. "I'm sure one drink is more than enough time for me to talk to Harry properly, Katie. It took me nearly the entire speech to finish my first."

"Yes," the woman agreed mournfully. By the looks of things Katie was well beyond her first cocktail of the evening.

"Shall we?" Harry motioned towards the bar where there was an opening. Gingerly he touched his pocket again. It was still there. "So what can I get you?"

"Pumpkin juice." She replied.

Harry turned to the bartender. The man was quick to serve the Harry Potter while all but ignoring the unknown Ginny even though the man had been eyeing her earlier. In those moments Harry had learned a lot about restraint. "A Butterbeer and a pumpkin juice."

"Coming right up, Mr Potter." The young wizard blurred into motion.

"Did you enjoy the speeches?" Harry asked.

Ginny glanced about guiltily. "Honestly, I missed half of what was said."

"I barely remember two words myself." Harry laughed softly just as the man returned with their drinks. "Care to take a stroll to the balcony?"

"That would be nice." Ginny beamed up at him just before he began to lead them out. A few heads turned in their direction, but to most Ginny was just another unknown. Even the reporters ignored them; Harry had never been good for a scandal. The women he'd spoken to had always been just that.

Outside the air was fresh. Not quite the same as when flying, but with the street far below you could almost imagine yourself on a broom for a moment.

"It's so silent out here," Ginny said softly from beside. "The noise inside was getting to me."

He took a sip of Butterbeer, suddenly very nervous at being alone. The box in his pocket began to weigh a ton. "I know what you mean. Your chest gets all tight and it begins to feel like you just want to run away."

She spun around, looking beautiful in her dress, and leaned back against the stone wall of the balcony. The light reflecting off her hair made it seem alive, but even that could not compare to the warmth in her eyes.

"You seem very eager to get me alone tonight, Harry." She lifted her glass to her lips.

"And you're not doing a very good job of staying away from me." He countered lightly.

She laughed, it proved infectious. "Perhaps I like being caught." A comfortable silence surrounded them and Harry moved to stand beside her. The sky over London was bright and he missed being able to look up at the stars. "You alright? You seem a bit tense."

"Tense?" he replied quickly. "I'm not tense, why would I be tense? I've got nothing to be tense about. No, I'm not tense."

She eyed him critically. "Really?"

"Merlin." He groaned. "How can I not be nervous around the amazingly wonderful woman I love?"

Even in the soft light outside, he could see the blush on her cheeks. It really was easy to make her grow red. "Perhaps, but I still say you've got something on your mind."

"Perhaps," he agreed. "Forget about me. You've got your first game in a few days."

"I can't believe it's almost time."

"Believe me, once the season starts, you'll blink and then it's gone."

She nodded thoughtfully.

The air stirred around them and the noise coming from inside died down even more. They were alone high above the ground. His hand trembled as it moved up towards his pocket. "Ginny…"

"Ginny!" Angelina screeched from just outside the door. "I found you." She turned round. "Girls, she's outside."

Harry moaned slightly as not only Angelina, but a good portion of the Harpies began to exit out onto the balcony.

Knowing that tonight was probably not the night for it anyway. He resigned himself to the outcome. "Thank you for the conversation, Ginny."

"Thank you for the drink," Ginny replied knowing that the time had come to part for the evening.

With one last look at Ginny, Harry walked back inside. The little box would have to wait for another day. And if he were honest with himself it was not the right time to ask her.

Walking through the slightly less crowded reception area he made his way outside. As soon as he was alone he flipped the box open and stared at the sparkling diamond.

Ginny stood amongst the loud conversations of her teammates. The pounding in her chest lessoned slowly. It made her wonder how Harry did that to her. The thought made her ponder what a future with him would entail. Strangely, the idea only made her smile wider.

She took a sip and stared out across the rooftops from the balcony. Her pumpkin juice tasted bland now that Harry had left, while the view and her feelings could only distract her for a minute, the Harpies were relentless. Samantha pulled Ginny around and away from dreams of a life with Harry.

"So you ready to win us a few games?" Samantha asked loudly.

Ginny smiled shyly. "You know I'll be doing my best."

"Samantha!" Katie scowled. "Ginny is our girl!"

"Of course she is," Victoria chimed in a normal tone. Like Ginny, Victoria managed to remain sober throughout the event. The Harpies captain grinned. "I trust her to have our back."

"Well if you score enough like you should…" Ginny let her words hang in the air.

Victoria burst out laughing. "We'll send the Quaffle home enough for you to relax."

The confidence of her Captain set Ginny at ease. The pumpkin juice Harry had gotten her was almost empty so she swallowed the remainder. The action helped clear her thoughts. Some deep part wished Victoria's words would come true. A calm opening game was what she needed. Nothing extreme, just a comfortable Harpies win ending with her hand around the Snitch.

"It'll go well," Victoria whispered so that none of the other women or their dates could hear. Ginny tried her best to nod in agreement. The older Harpies hand rested on Ginny's shoulder. "And if all hell breaks loose, then we'll be there to cover your back."

Harry stood before Ginny with arms wrapped around her shoulders in an attempt to sooth her tension. "And try to have some fun while you're up there."

"I'm too nervous to think of fun."

He brought her in close and she let herself melt into the kiss. Every distraction was welcome at this point. The world was just that little bit better after he pulled away. "See, you're not too anxious."

"Am too!" She stamped her foot in mock indignation. "Don't try distracting me from my worries, Potter!"

He laughed as his arms dropped to her waist. "I'll be there to watch every minute."

"You're going!" she said in excitement.

"How can I miss my girlfriend's first ever game?" Ginny shrugged. "Exactly." He pointed out.

"I must be going," she said when it came time to leave. "We're supposed to be there at least two hours before the game starts."

He nodded knowingly, having been there himself. After one last kiss she removed her wand and Apparated into the Harpies team Apparition point. It was within the main stadium and free of obsessed fans. The building, however, reverberated from the sound of hundreds of witches and wizards trying to get into the stadium. Tension quickly became replaced by dread.

"How you feeling?" Katie's bubbly voice chimed a second after the pop of her arrival. Ginny's first words came out in an incoherent jumble. "Know the feeling." The Chaser smiled. "Don't worry we've all been there. You'll do great."

"I've been told as much," Ginny finally managed to say clearly enough to be understood. "Still doesn't make it any easier to believe."

Another hand clapped her on the back. "First game jitters?" Gwenog asked. Ginny tried to laugh, it came out all wrong. "Just go up there and do what you're best at. When the whistle blows and the Snitch disappears nothing else matters."

"I hope you're right."

Ginny found her corner in the changing room. For a brief moment the world disappeared. Her first game jersey hung neatly. Unlike their practice outfits this one was the official dark green that was famous the magical world over. The golden talon, only found on actual Harpies jerseys, decorated the front. The date and the name of the opposition would be found stitched onto the left sleeve. She touched it in awe.

"The first one is always something special," Gwenog spoke from behind.

"It is something," Ginny whispered almost in disbelief.

"Well get dressed. I'm sure you've got some Seeker thing to go do." Ginny spun around. Gwenog winked before striding away to go talk to the other girls.

A few minutes later Ginny was flying lazy circles around the pitch. People, mostly dressed in Harpies green, stared up at her. She let her mind take it all in. "The more familiar it becomes now the less frightening it will be later." Cameras flashed and reporters were busy scribbling notes. Around the field commentators spoke into their wands. Their voices would be broadcast across the country and the world.

This was the last game of the round. The Chudley Cannons had won the opening game against Kenmore Kestrels a few days earlier. It had not been a convincing win, but a win nevertheless. The Cannon's new Seeker was no slouch, though his youth had cost him. The thought forced Ginny to focus, she hoped that she would overcome her inexperience.

Today it was Ginny's turn. This game would be no walkover. The Montrose Magpies were the most successful team in British Quidditch. They'd been second for the past two years and have always been a thorn in the side to most teams in the league.

Her mind drifted back to the present. People cheered loudly all around the stadium. Her eyes drifted across the supporters filling the stands and up into the official box where other celebrities and Ministry of Magic dignitaries sat. A familiar mop of black hair sat comfortably by himself in one of the seats. He wore a neutral white shirt and his usual pair of jeans. He smiled and waved discreetly up at her. She dared not wave back, but she did smile.

For the millionth time during the past two months she wondered what it was that she felt for him. No matter how many times or how hard she argued against the idea, she always reached the same answer and each time she felt more sure. She loved him and wanted to spend a life time with him. "I'll tell you after the game," she whispered to him. Of course he would not hear, but she spoke to him.

Feeling satisfied that she had taken in as much as she could, Ginny returned to the changing room. She'd received strict instructions on her way out that the team talk was not to be missed.

Slight static came over the wireless just before a voice boomed out loudly. "Why don't you give us a quick update on the past few games, Peter."

"With pleasure, Bobby." The sound of paper being unfolded sounded harsh across the wireless. "In Group A, the Appleby Arrows crushed the Falmouth Falcons 480-190 while also managing to catch the Snitch. The Ballycastle Bats were destroying the Caerphilly Catapults, but a marvellous catch by the Catapults Seeker allowed them to walk away with some pride. The Bats won the game comfortably 360-150."

"Imagine the long faces on the Catapult's fans if they had failed to catch the Snitch. Merlin, they would've lost 510-0."

"Quite, right, but McKinley did a wonderful job at keeping calm under the onslaught. As it stands, the Arrows have 3 points and lead the log. The Bats, with a win but no Snitch, lie second with two points. The Catapults scrounge a point for catching the Snitch. The Falcons, sadly lie last. The last opening round game in this group is between the Harpies and Magpies."

"Sounds like this could be shaping up for another tense season. The Arrows seem to be fielding a strong team, Peter."

"They do seem to be the strongest team in this group so far, but with four more group games to go, anything is possible."

There was a slight pause. "Things also look exiting in Group B. The Kenmare Kestrels were struggling against the Pride of Portree, but managed to catch the Snitch to finish ahead at 150-80. Tutshill Tornadoes showed that they came from the second division when they lost scandalously to Puddlemere United 490-40. The closest game all week, however, was the Wimbourne Wasps' game against the Chudley Cannons. The Cannon's showed why they had won the League four years running despite Potter not playing. Their Chasers and Beaters worked well, ensuring their lead was enough to win them the game without catching the Snitch. They won the game comfortably at 400-300."

"I'm sure those Chudley fans would be pleased to see that their team can still win a game with no Potter there to catch the Snitch at the end of play."

"More worrying for the other teams, Bobby."

"Yes. As it stands Group B is jointly led by United and the Kestrels, who both managed three points. The Cannons are lying uncomfortably third with two points. The Wimbourne Wasps have a point, while last place is shared by Portree and the Tornadoes.

"While you were talking, Peter, I've been following up on some news I received a bit earlier. Ladies and gentleman. I have real treat lined up for you before the official start of play." A scuffling sound came over the wireless. "So for your pleasure I've managed to corner a very reclusive but well known and loved Quidditch player."

The voice went silent for a moment. "It's been a while since we've seen you, Mr. Potter."

"A pleasure to be here at the game, Bobby." Potter's voice spoke confidently over the wireless. "It's been a tough few weeks knowing that I won't be out there playing this season. As my Chudley Cannon's fans know I'm sorry to not be representing their team this year."

"Yes, they have been thoroughly heartbroken. Any reasons that you can share with us at this time?"

"I felt like I needed a break, Bobby. I had a good run, but it was time for me to stop playing professionally."

"So you're not going to share anymore with us?"

"I'm afraid not. Perhaps one day I'll give an interview or write a book."

"I'm sure you'll make a lot of people very happy on the day you decide to share the story. But what brings you out here today? The name Harry Potter was the last I would've expected at the game. Especially since you were not at the Cannons game."

"I have a special interest in this game." Harry said.

"Another secret, Harry. When are you ever going to just let us know what's going on?"

Harry's laugh crackled through the wireless. "Perhaps the time is not that far away, Bobby. When I can I promise to give you an exclusive interview."

"Really?" Bobby's excited voice boomed through the speaker.

"Of course. But I think the game will be starting soon and I'm sure there are some other dignitaries around here for you to interview."

"Thank you for your time, Harry. I'm sure all the listeners out there enjoyed hearing the sound of your voice. Just one last question. Who's going to win today?"

"Holyhead Harpies." Harry's voice sounded confident over the air.

"There you have it people. From the mouth of a man who's never lost a game, Harpies to win their opening game against the Magpies."

"Wait. There's some excitement coming from the crowd. I'm looking over the railing. Here we go people. The young Miss Weasley has just taken to the air. As you might have heard, the Harpies have signed this remarkable woman straight from Hogwarts."

A shuffling noise came of the speaker. "Sorry to bother again, Potter. But what do you make of this young player? Has old Gwenog lost her mind signing a girl so young?"

Potter coughed. "Time will tell. I actually went to watch a game of hers when she was still at Hogwarts. She's got talent. I can vouch for that."

"I hope you heard that listeners. If you are wondering what is happening and why the crowd has suddenly begun cheering it is because she is doing a very Potteresque pre-match routine."

"Comments, Harry?"

"I take it she studied my flying a bit. But who knows what she's doing. If I were Gwenog I would've sent her out early. Get used to the crowd and being the centre of attention. It will help settle her nerves."

"Very astute comment there, Harry. But I'll leave you now."

"Harry Potter seems very aware of this young girl's talent. It begs the question, listeners, had he been scouting her for the Cannons? I will be digging for more answers and hopefully I won't come out with more questions. With Potter I always seem to find more than is fair."

"Ah, here's another treat for you. Minister..."

Harry sat alone staring up at Ginny. She flew around slowly. With each loop her flying grew smoother and less ragged. The pregame flight was helping with her nerves as well as opening her mind to the world around. With about twenty minutes to the start, Ginny withdrew from the pitch.

Down below the officials gathered where each ball was being inspected. The Snitch, as always, was handled with careful gloved hands. The first skin to touch it would be the winning Seeker.

"Oi, Ron! Move your oversized feet."

"Yeah, we want to get there before the game starts!"

Harry's ears perked up at the mention of Ron.

"I'm moving, I'm moving." Another voice shouted back. It had to be Ron.

Harry slipped slightly lower in his seat, hoping they would pass him by.

"I've seen full sized dragons move about with more agility," another voice laughed. Harry did not need to turn his head to see a mass of oncoming people with red hair. He glanced to the right and cursed. The only empty seats were around him. "Bugger!" he muttered softly.

"Any spells to make him move quicker, Bill?" One of the first voices asked.

"Sorry, Fred. If only you asked me to ward him into the Burrow."

"Can you do that?"

"Leave him," a young feminine voice said sharply. "We would've been here an hour ago if all you single blokes hadn't been doing your hair in the bathroom."

"Oi, you never know what beauty might be prowling about the box."

"Agh," the girl growled. Harry noticed a bushy head of brown hair. It had to be Hermione, Ron's girlfriend. "Men."

"Boys," a much more motherly voice said loudly. "I thought you could behave yourselves."

"We are behaving, mum."

"Listen to your mother." An older fatherly voice spoke.

Harry cringed visibly as the loud group began to fill the seats around him.

"Mind shifting over one?" Ron asked Harry.

"No problem," he replied and moved across to the last seat in the block. Ron plonked down beside him.

"So what are the bookies saying, Fred?" Ron asked over his shoulder to the row of Weasleys behind him.

"Magpies 10-1..." He paused. "Wait... Apparently Harry Potter has just rated Ginny and the odds have dropped to 2-1 in the Magpies favour."

"Luckily I placed my bet earlier," Ron muttered.

"You're betting!" Mrs Weasley said in outrage. "I thought I raised you better."

"I've got to show my support," Ron protested.

"I think I'm liking this Potter bloke more," George said. "A man who stands by Ginny is good in my books."

"I've always said he's a great man." Ron said loudly.

"Oi, mate," Ron said turning to Harry. "What do you..."

"Crikey," he squeaked. "It's you!"

"Stop blabbering, Ron," Fred teased. "I thought you got over that during your OWLS."

"I... I'm Ron Weasley," he said holding out his hand.

"Harry," Harry replied shaking Ron's hand. "I assume you're family of Ginny Weasley."

"She's my little sister," Ron said proudly. "She's the best Seeker ever."

"She's good," Harry agreed. He noticed the entire Weasley family trying to listen in. "I watched her fly at Hogwarts last year. I've honestly never seen a more naturally talented flyer."

"No need to lie to us, Harry," George said clapping him on the back.

"Well I'm saying the same as what I said to the Wireless a few moments ago."

The group fell into silence. "You missed her earlier. She flew about a bit."

"Yeah," Ron said nodding. "She told me to expect something Potteresque. I wonder why she did it?"

Before Harry could answer trumpets blared and the two teams streamed out of the pavilion. Ginny right there in the middle of the group. She suddenly looked very small on her broom.

"Here they come listeners. The Magpies emerge in their famous black and white jerseys. Even from here those white Magpies on their chests seem threatening. They are one of the teams to beat this year."

"And here come the Harpies. Just listen to these locals shouting. Those dark green jerseys look like a well-oiled machine."

"They do, Bobby. Gwenog has been training them hard before the start of the season. There have also been rumours of a private training camp for their new Seeker."

"Yes, Peter. I spoke to Harry Potter a few minutes ago and he seems to rate her highly. What do think?"

"Neither of us have seen her fly. I did, however, manage to ask a few people who have and like Potter said they all agree that she is talented."

"But this level takes more than talent, doesn't it, Peter?"

"Yes. This league is brutal. What you listeners can't see is that the young Weasley is rather petite and I fear her ability to bully her way to Snitch."

"Yes, that has been a fear of mine as well. But the teams are lined up. The Snitch has been released and... The whistle blows.

The first few minutes of the game passed in relative calm. Harry's words to her kept playing through her mind. The stadium and the people were all there, but her mind was free to focus on what was important - finding the Snitch

"Ginny!" Victoria shouted in alarm.

Ginny turned just in time to see a Bludger coming at her head. She instinctively rolled into a dive. The thing came close enough to touch her jersey. If it hadn't been for Victoria's shout her day would've ended a few minutes into the game.

The crowd did not sound pleased. "Thanks!" she shouted back at her teammates. She'd have to be more careful to watch for oncoming Bludgers during the game. The Magpies were obviously going to try and target her.

As if to prove her theory the opposing Seeker dove in front of her. She pulled hard on her broom and managed to avoid smashing into the bulky man. In clear air she adjusted her goggles and tried to refocus at the task at hand.

"Keep an eye out for the Snitch, the Bludger and the Seeker." She began to repeat the words like a mantra. "Snitch, Bludger, Seeker."

Down below the game proved as frantic as predicted. The Harpies and the Magpies were closely matched. The Magpies scored first and quickly added two more to their tally. The Harpies were down by thirty.

The second time the Bludger came for her, Ginny was much better prepared and easily dodged to the side. "They'll need to do better than that," Ginny huffed to herself.

The minutes ticked by. The Quaffle flew between players at a high rate of knots. Soon the score had stretched to 70-20 for the Magpies. Ginny needed to get the Snitch.

Trying her best to ignore the chaos below and the movements of the crowd she focused. "Snitch, Bludger, Seeker," she mumbled.

The third time the Bludger came towards her she was beginning to become really angry at the Magpies. She began a slow dive to avoid the thing. It was then that her senses began to scream that something was wrong. Instead of doing as it was supposed to the Bludger arced in an ever tighter trajectory. It came straight at her while gaining speed.

She dove faster and made for the two Harpies Beaters, Catherine and Samantha, and flew between them. The satisfying crack of bat against Bludger sounded from behind. She dared a glance over her shoulder. The ball flew in the opposite direction.

The score slowly moved on to 120-50. The Harpies were really beginning to suffer. Gwenog had been right, something that she made a point of being, the other teams smelled a trophy and they were hungry.

A gasp rang out from the crowd. Ginny reacted a little too slowly. Her left shoulder felt the brutal impact of a glancing blow from a Bludger. She bit back a cry of agony and focused on steadying her broom as it flew erratically.

Katie came up beside her. "The Bludger's been hexed," the Chaser spat out angrily.

Ginny shook her head in confusion. Deep down she'd known. No Bludger reacted like that, but something in her mind had not wanted to comprehend that it could have happened. "You sure?" she asked.

"That thing has got Weasley on its mind, Ginny."

Ginny clenched her teeth against the pain of her shoulder. "I'll get the Snitch and end this."

"You better hurry."

Katie disappeared into the maelstrom that was the game leaving Ginny to race around the pitch. "Snitch, Bludger, Seeker," she repeated to herself.

The game moved with agonising slowness from there. Every spare moment not looking for the Snitch had to be spent scanning the air for either the Bludger or the opposing Seeker.

Then as the Bludger began another law breaking curve towards her, Ginny caught a glimmer of gold in the corner of her eye. The Snitch was trying to race passed her. Adding a tentative loop she intercepted the path and reached out to feel the cold metal of the Snitch as her fist closed around the winged ball. The joy at winning the game, like it should have been, was not there. Her mind was on one item, the Bludger still bearing down on her.

Instinctively she rolled while completing her loop. The Bludger soared just beneath. The ball buffeted the air around her and she let out another small sigh, but her body remained as tense as ever. The movement would keep the crazed Bludger away for the next few minutes.

"You alright?" Victoria spoke next to her. Ginny managed a nod. "Don't worry we'll keep it off you 'til the bloody spell wears off."

Ginny, Snitch still held tightly in her hand and all thoughts of the game out of her mind, lay low on her broom as she flew through the air at break neck speeds. Her body as close to the handle as possible in order to reduce drag. The Beaters behind her quickly fell back.

"Catch the Snitch and end this," Katie called out to Ginny who tried to open her mouth to say she'd already caught it. The attempt to open her palm failed. The Snitch remained caught in a death grip. Instead she kept on flying. It was the only thing she could get her body to do. She needed help. Her shoulder had gone numb and the demented Bludger was still trying to kill her.

Harry sat muttering to himself in the box. Malfoy had to have found out that he was seeing Ginny. But how? Harry went pale, why had he allowed himself to entangle Ginny in his past. Gwenog and he had been foolish to think they could keep his life away from them. But how could he keep himself away from Ginny?

The game was going badly for the Harpies as the Magpie Chasers flew almost unopposed around the field. Both Harpies Beaters were too busy trying to keep the single Bludger away from their new Seeker, while also trying to protect their Chasers. It was almost a rout at 200-90.

"That thing is cursed!" Ron shouted from beside Harry. "Someone do something!" The crowd quickly began to understand the gravity of the situation. A rogue Bludger was hunting down and trying to maim or kill the Harpies new talent.

Harry glanced at the match officials. They were talking frantically to one another. Gwenog was down there as well. Her arms flailed about as she shouted at someone to stop the game. Harry understood the confusion. A professional Quidditch Bludger had never been tampered with. No rules existed to account for the act. Officially they could do nothing until the game finished. "Catch the Snitch, Ginny," Harry pleaded quietly. His hands were white from clutching the armrests.

Around him the other people in the box were beginning to grow more and more agitated. With each passing moment the situation became increasingly dire. Ginny performed a breath taking backwards roll and the Bludger missed her back by an inch. The two Beaters swirled around much less elegantly. Even in danger her flying still took his breath away, but he could see her becoming ragged. The earlier blow from the Bludger was starting to hurt badly.

"Hermione?" Ron called out. "What do the rules say? Can't they stop this game?"

Hermione seemed perplexed. "I haven't read the rules, Ron." She looked ashamed as the words left her mouth.

"The only bloody book you've not read!" He threw his arms up in frustration. Harry felt bad for Hermione, but he understood Ron's concern.

Over the pitch, Ginny lay as flat against her broom as Harry had ever seen and her one hand clutched the broom awkwardly. This was not the way this game should've turned out. He closed his jaw angrily. Consequences be damned, he was not just going to sit here and watch her being rammed into the ground by the cheating bastard Malfoy.

Closing his eyes he began the chant that would summon his broom. "Accio," he muttered softly. "Accio." He knew he only needed to say it once, but he drew confidence from his words. It helped him ignore the cries of horror coming from the spectators.

"Oi, stop chanting like zat!" A French voice cried out from behind him. He'd heard her speaking earlier. It had to be Fleur.

Harry stood, but could not stop himself from whispering. He needed his broom to help Ginny.

"Listen here, Potter! I know an incantation when I hear one." The voice was strong and very angry. Harry opened his eyes to stare into the hard eyes of Bill Weasley.

"What does it matter to you if I'm chanting!" Harry shouted out in frustration. He needed to vent his growing agitation and worry over Ginny.

"That's my sister out there and it sounds like you're the one calling the shots." Bill drew back his arm and swung before Harry could fathom what the man was talking about. The fist struck Harry. The sound of bone and cartilage breaking was all too familiar. Harry stumbled backwards only to ram into another person. Blood spurted from his nose, covering his white shirt. He touched his pocket and grunted. His wand had fallen out. At least his broom was still coming. He hoped so at least.

"You bloody cheat!" Ron cried out and a shoe struck Harry against the side. At least this time Harry was prepared. He managed to tense his muscles allowing his ribs survive the powerful strike, but his side would be feeling it soon.

Harry raised a hand and blasted Ron away from him. Bill and another red haired man, Charlie, came rushing towards him. They had murder in their eyes. Harry summoned some more strength and managed to stand. The world spun around him and his ears still rang from the first blow.

"So you won all those championships by cheating!" Charlie spat. Harry blocked his punch and struck out with his other fist. Bill slammed into him with his entire body. Harry's smaller form stood little chance against the powerfully built and taller Weasley. They collided against a wall. The frame behind Harry shattered causing glass to fly in all directions.

Resorting to magic, Harry bludgeoned the man aside. In the distance his keen eyes saw the oncoming broom. Time was running out. All around him the Weasleys were homing in. There was pure anger and loathing in their eyes. Their wands were drawn now.

Harry began to run. His wand lay somewhere on the floor, but a line of red haired men stood between it and him. His side ached and his nose still bled. Outside the broom rushed towards him. It soared over the opposite stand coming straight towards them. There was one alternative left. Harry stepped onto the last row of seats and launched himself into the air.

The railing passed beneath him and then there was nothing but a fifty foot drop to the hard ground below. He could see Gwenog staring up at him. Nearly every person in the crowd not looking at Ginny was watching him in astonishment. Somewhere in the back of his mind he heard the commentator shouting something about him as he began to plummet to the ground. Everything happened so slowly.

His body twisted. The broom barely visible as his hand shot towards it. The grainy wood had never felt so good before. The thought vanished as his entire body jerked, but luckily the broom gave a little and so he did not hear or feel the agony of a dislocated shoulder. A broken nose was damage enough. It took only moments before he heaved himself onto the broom and began to speed off towards Ginny.

"Keep that thing away from her!" Harry called out to the two Beaters as he raced past them.

"We'll keep her safe!" they called out. Then took a double take as they realised who was flying between them. He had never been more grateful for being famous.

Ginny veered hard to her left and the Bludger grazed her broom on passing. The broom wobbled for a little bit, but then she corrected again like the natural she was. "Why do you have to be so fast, Ginny?" Harry muttered to himself.

Ginny sped past the box where her brothers and parents were standing. A second later he passed them as well. Their wands were drawn and curses flew from the tips, but each was deflected off the magical shield surrounding the pitch. Jinxed Bludgers might have

been uncommon, but not crazed fans that felt like doing bodily harm to their failed team. Harry would know, the Cannons had the most advanced system in the league. The Harpies a close second, thankfully.

"Ginny!" he called out. "It's me. I'm here." His voice must have travelled as she eased up slightly and allowed him to come closer. "You're doing great, Ginny," Harry said as he pulled up next to her. "Just keep flying like you're doing and we'll stop the Bludger."

"Ha... rry," she barely managed to say and he could see the pain in her expression. This close, he could clearly see the tear in her jersey and the red beneath. Her hand twitched towards him, but then she veered off suddenly as the Bludger dove between them. It missed Harry by a margin he would rather not remember.

Harry cursed loudly and sped after her again. It took an entire lap to gain on her. "Slow down, Ginny," Harry cried out. "Give your team a chance to protect you."

She complied slightly. The two Beaters managed to close on her flank forming an arrow formation. Harry dove down to fly behind the three of them. He glanced over his shoulder and watched as the Bludger came nearer.

Down below the officials were still arguing. A small woman jumped up and down beside them. It looked like she was trying hard to get their attention. The golden pin on her blouse named her the Snitch match official. Harry's eyes widened. He cursed again. "They'll never step in now."

He shouted out in frustration and halted his broom in mid-air. He raised his hands and channeled his magic through raised palms. He stared unblinking at the Bludger coming straight towards him. The world erupted in a bright blue as he raised a shield before the ball. A blinding light flashed as it struck the blue film.

Harry blinked, first at the brightness and then in surprise moments before the Bludger slammed into his body. This time his ribs did not survive the impact intact. His legs, clamped around the broom, ensured that he was not blown off the handle. When his vision cleared he was dangling upside down thirty feet from the ground. Ginny still raced around the field.

Grunting in agony he clambered painfully atop his broom again. Lying down against the handle he shot after the Bludger. The crowd cheered, but the sound meant almost nothing to him.

The Bludger tumbled through the air chaotically now. It was the first time in minutes that Harry felt any form of hope. Cutting across the field he fell in with the group again.

"You look like..." Katie shouted at Harry. "What's going?"

"She's got the Snitch, Katie!" Harry shouted in return. "Go tell them that she's got the Snitch."

"What!" the Harpy shouted. "When?"

"Just tell them!" he ordered. The girl's eyes widened at his tone and then she disappeared behind him as she flew down towards the officials. Harry closed on Ginny. "Just keep hold of that Snitch and keep that Bludger off your back and you'll be fine."

Harry felt rather than saw the magical wards around the stadium collapse. "They'll stop the Bludger now, Ginny. Just keep flying."

She mumbled something in reply, but her eyes never left the world before her. Down below the officials raised their wands and fired spells up at the hexed ball. "Thanks," Ginny's tired and disorientated voice called from her broom. She must have seen the officials.

Harry glanced back again. The Bludger continued to come closer, none of the spells stopped the thing. "Whatever happens, keep flying." She nodded in reply, the fight returning to her eyes.

Harry whirled around again and began to methodically place repeated shields between him and the Bludger. They were too weak to do much now, but they helped to break some of the balls energy. It proved too little too late as the Bludger slammed into his leg. The crushing blow sent him flying from the broom, the handle splintered. Around him the stadium hummed as the full power of the Harpies wards activated again to keep spells as well spectators out. If he tried his stunt of earlier now he would be seriously rebuffed by the wards. No one could enter or leave the pitch. But all he could think of was the pain coursing through his body as he tumbled through the air. He barely heard someone call his name as he blacked out.

Ginny watched in horror as Harry fell from his broom. Something in her mind clicked back into place and she dove instinctively after him. "Harry!" she cried out as she rocketed downwards. A Wronski Feint to catch a man, easy.

His heavy body slammed into hers as she half caught half crashed into him. Their combined weight made it impossible for her to pull out of the dive. She barely managed to slow down. The green grass of the pitch, so wondrous a few weeks before, came rapidly closer. Her handle dug into the soft soil beneath and catapulted them across the field. She tumbled and rolled. Then stopped.

The grass felt cool and moist. The lack of air rushing across her face made the world oddly still. She coughed. Warm blood trickled down her face. She pushed the pain aside and tried to stand up, but her body refused to comply. It was over. The Bludger had disintegrated, along with Harry's broom, upon striking him.

Her face rolled slightly to the side. He lay a few feet from her, his body strangely contorted. "Ginny, can you hear me?" Gwenog called to her.

"I'ummmm'l right," Ginny slurred. "Harryyyy," she mumbled.

"Nurse!" Gwenog called across at someone. "Get over here!" Her voice came nearer. "I'm going to Harry." Even in her daze, Ginny could hear the woman's voice break

slightly. Ginny wanted to go to him, but a potion forced down her throat ended any conscious thoughts.

"Wandless magic people!" Bobby's excited voice crackled over the wireless. "Potter dove head first from the top box grabbed his broom out of thin air with one hand and now he raised three consecutive wandless Protego shields. Is there anything the man cannot do?"

"Wait. Merlin's beard the Bludger is still going straight for him!" Static came from the radio.

"His brooms shattered! There's nothing but a forty foot drop to the pitch."

"Wait! Merlin's soggy socks. Weasley is diving after him. She'll never..." The wireless emitted nothing but noise. "... They're down! She caught him but they're lying in a tangled mess of limbs. Gwenog's there. She's talking to Ginny... wait... She's alive people I wouldn't have believed… That was some flying."

"A Wronski feint to catch a falling Potter. The extra weight was her undoing. Merlin! That is what I call a game of Quidditch... Wait... There's more coming through from the pitch..."

The radio crackled loudly and the distant cheer of the crowd filtered through. "It's been confirmed. Ginny Weasley caught the Snitch. Can you believe it?"

"How did we miss it?"

"I don't know, but so much has been going on!"

"Harry's been led off by a stretcher. That was some heroic flying from Potter. The man just continues to prove that he is a formidable Quidditch player."

"There's more coming from the pitch..."

"Amazing. It appears that Harry knew she'd caught the Snitch. He'd known the game was officially over. No rules were broken and the Harpies win will stand."

"That man must have the eyes of a phoenix. A true legend in the flesh."

"Well that's it for the night, listeners. The Harpies win their opening game against the Magpies. It's been nail biting stuff. Debuts, cursed Bludgers and amazing feats of flying from both Weasley and Potter."

"From what I've seen tonight the Harpies have themselves a future star in Weasley."

"Agreed. If only we could see a game between Potter and Weasley."

"So what can are listeners look forward to?"

"This was the last game in the first round. The teams will have a few weeks to nurse their injuries before the October round begins."

"Until October then. Wishing you a good night, from me Bobby."

"And me Peter."

Ginny sat impatiently on a hard bed inside the now dimly lit Harpies infirmary. Her legs swayed about, but she could not leave. A wand appeared before her eyes. A female Healer stood somewhere behind the bright light coming from the tip. Ginny blinked in agitation. The light vanished and the room appeared even darker for a moment. The healer waved her wand and the infirmary brightened again. The wand dropped onto the bed as the Healer moved behind Ginny to begin prodding her neck and back for any further injuries.

The process took an agonisingly long time, but eventually the Healer stood before her again. The woman did not look entirely pleased, but neither did she look angry.

The she held up two fingers. "How many fingers?"

"Two," Ginny replied quickly even though the image was slightly blurred. "I'm fine, really." The words probably more to comfort herself.

"Sure," the witch retorted. "What could be wrong after a forty foot plummet straight into mother earth?"

"Well of course I was hurt," Ginny burst out angrily. Not angry at the witch, but at being stuck in the small dark and depressing room while Harry needed her. "But you fixed me hours ago."

"And now I'm making sure you don't walk into a wall." The witch smiled knowingly and Ginny could tell the woman had seen the like before. "Relax, you seem fine. You'll be out of this room in another minute or two."

A low moan escaped Ginny's lips. "A minute's too long." She wanted to say more, but it wasn't the woman's fault that Ginny had to be in here.

As the Healer checked for other signs of injury, Ginny began to glance about. Blood soaked clothes lay on a nearby table; the one sleeve torn and bloodied from the early collision with the Bludger. Vials of blood restorative potions emphasised what her eyes were seeing and body felt. The amount made her stomach turn. Thankfully the cuts and bruises were mostly healed. She would be sore and stiff for a day or two, however.

"And there you go, Weasley." The woman sounded pleased. "I think we managed a right good job of patching you up."

"Thank you," Ginny replied even though she was in a hurry to leave. She slid of the bed gingerly, every part of her body ached. The process of pulling a practise jersey over her head took agonising minutes to complete. Yet, after each movement the muscles in her

body began to relax and loosen. By the time she was fully dressed, Ginny felt almost human again. They really had done a tidy job. "You must be well practised."

The Healer smiled knowingly. "The average Harpy being smaller than the men they play against means that I do tend to get more things to fix than your ordinary team Healer."

"I never really thought about it." Ginny nodded absently.

"Few do, but you might as well know that your fellow Harpies don't do too well when connecting mid-air with a pair oversized Beaters." The Healer's voice sounded incredibly dry.

Ginny burst out laughing, unsure whether the woman had tried to make a joke or not, as she made her way to the door. "Thanks, I'll try to remember that." The laughter helped her spirit.

"Please do. Re-growing bones has becoming quite boring."

Ginny hesitated, one hand on the handle. "I'll try to add some flare."

"You've managed quite well in that department." The Healer smiled as she turned away to begin removing some sort of glove from her hands. They were covered in blood as well.

Ginny entered the thankfully empty corridor. The only person visible being Gwenog, who stood outside the visitor's medical room a few doors down. They said nothing as Gwenog opened the door for Ginny.

She moved to a dark corner and leaned against the wall as the Magpies' Healer and medics scurried around Harry's still body. Their wands moved about in quick orderly movements. They'd already set his shoulder and fixed his broken leg and arm by the look of things.

A tattered and blood soaked shirt lay on the floor. It was covered with much more red than hers. She chewed on her bottom lip nervously. He'd pull through, he had to.

"How you holding up?" Gwenog asked from beside Ginny. She'd not noticed the woman slip into the room after her.

"Better than Harry," she managed to say. "She patched me up quickly; only a few minor wounds from the crash."

"Minor?" Gwenog snorted. "Hate to see what you call major. Nice catch by the way." Her arm wrapped around Ginny's shoulder and held her tight.

"Which one?" she asked, trying to find some humour. Ginny had yet to look at her coach. Her eyes were fixed on the Healer as he continued to work methodically, but with quiet determination.

"Never saw the first one of the night."

"Oh, well. It had to be me didn't it? Who else would've stopped his fall?" Ginny muttered.

"Thank you." Her coach's voice low. Ginny could only nod in reply while receiving yet another hug from Gwenog. "I best be off. The reporters and your family would like to know what's going on."

"I suppose they would." Ginny slowly moved her head up and down, but made no attempt to leave.

Her coach must have understood the hesitation. "I'll tell them that you're fine and sleeping." Ginny did not respond. She could do nothing more than stand, arms wrapped around herself as she waited for Harry to wake.

"I should go to them." She did not want to look up at Gwenog. "But I can't leave him now."

She patted Ginny's shoulder. "I know."

Eventually she glanced at her coach to find the woman staring deeply into her eyes. "I'm sorry for letting this happen." Then Gwenog disappeared out into the corridor. Ginny stared at the retreating form of the woman wondering what the comment meant. It proved futile.

It was late night or very early morning when the Healer finally left Harry's side. Ginny, numb from exhaustion and worry, edged towards his bed. Harry's eyes were barely open and he lay immobile. He blinked and tried to smile when he noticed her.

She took hold of his hand. "Rest." Her thumb gently stroked the palm of his hand. "You've been through enough on my account today."

"I..." his voice was hoarse. "I had to. You're..." he coughed. She gripped his hand tighter as he fought the pain. "I'm sorry..."

"You don't have to talk now, Harry." Her voice soft and her face close to his. "I just wanted to tell you something before you fell asleep." She took a deep breath. She'd said it a hundred times to him before. It should've been the easiest thing to say, but it meant so much that she felt her words would never convey the meaning. She edged even closer to him and placed a tender kiss on his dry lips. Moving back an inch, she stared into his green eyes. "I love you, Harry."

He blinked, almost as if he could sense the deep meaning. "I... Ginny..." She felt vulnerable now that she'd given so much of herself in those words. Every part of her being was exposed. Her chest tightened and she turned, trying to pull away. With surprising strength, Harry gripped her arm before whispering from behind. "Left pocket."

Fighting her insecurity and desire to run, she faced him. The physical pain Harry felt as he fought to keep her beside him had turned his face pale. Despite everything he continued to speak. "I... shouldn't... not yet… but…"

The deep currents of emotion visible in his gaze made her pause. Then she carefully leaned over him and dug her hand into the pocket of his torn jeans lying beside the bed. Her fingers touched something hard. Closing her hand around it, she pulled it out. It took a moment for her mind to register the red velvet casing and what its contents symbolised. "Harry, is this..." her words trailed off.

"Don't answer now," he said slowly. "I..." he struggled through another spasm. "Just wanted you to know what I feel."

"I know the answer," Ginny replied without opening the box. "Y..."

"I need to explain things first." He coughed loudly again. Sweat poured down his face. "So much you need to know about me first... Dangerous around me."

"I know danger, Harry. I know you fought in the war. I also know that you risked everything today to help me. I doubt you could say anything to change my mind."

"Still." His hand reached out towards hers, which held the small box. He enclosed them with his. "I love you, but you have to let me explain."

"I'm still saying yes, Harry." She smiled her first real one since the start of the game. She moved his hand away and fiddled with the small bronze latch on the box. The lid flipped open and her mouth formed a small, "O". The sound and the item in her palm stripped away any and all of the fears she'd felt. A warmth radiated from her head all the way down to the tips of her toes. The beating of her heart increased tenfold. And in that moment she felt a calm certainty she'd never experienced before.

Inside sat a classical single diamond engagement ring set in platinum. She'd always wanted something small and understated and she'd expected Harry, being a famous Quidditch player, to give her something ridiculously large. She should've remembered that he was different. The diamond and ring felt perfect in every way. It even managed to sparkle in the dimness of the room. Around the edge intricate patterns were etched into the metal, but the light proved too poor to see more.

She took it out carefully. The ring felt heavy on her palm, which shook even more than before the game. Harry reached out to take the ring. Her mind steadied and she jerked her hand away from his. "Harry. I've said yes and you're not going to have it any other way. Even if you take the thing from me I'll still keep you to your proposal."

Harry's face blossomed into a wonderful smile, even if he did look a bit worried. "I still think we should wait."

"Why wait longer for the inevitable?"

He considered her words for a few seconds, then nodded. Reaching out, he took hold of her hand and removed the ring from her palm. This time she could not have pulled away even if she wanted to. His gaze held her captive.

Her chest pounded with excitement and dread, but instead of trying to hide the ring, he took hold of her left hand and slipped it onto her finger. The band immediately sized to fit.

Exhausted, Ginny could only sit and stare at the ring on her finger as her body tried gallantly to calm down. The shining diamond proved a constant reminder of what Harry'd just asked, or implied with the box, and the answer she'd given.

Her other hand had taken hold of his. "Harry," she whispered. "Are we going to tell my parents?"

Harry already awfully pale began to blink tiredly. "I'm sure we can arrange something." He yawned and his words began to slur. "But we'll talk about it tomorrow." His eyes grew heavy as the various potions began to work. Harry fell asleep.

Ginny gave her ring another long look before removing her wand. After a short whispered incantation the ring vanished.

Deciding the side of the bed would not be comfortable, Ginny moved to the softer chair standing in the dark corner. She couldn't leave him tonight.

She was just getting comfortable when the door opened and a wizard glided into the room quietly. If her eyes had not still been open he would have entered without being heard. His dark grey robes blended in with the shadows about the room. Long silver hair hung past his shoulders. More importantly, his wand was drawn and everything about his movements felt dangerous.

Ginny whispered a spell drilled into every new Harpy; a silent alarm alerting Gwenog and stadium security about the whereabouts of the witch. It was only to be used in emergencies.

The man towered over Harry's prone body. Ginny had no time to wait for help. Fear almost paralysed her, but a strength greater than fear urged her into motion. She stood slowly, fingers curling around the smooth handle of her wand. The man's attention remained solely on Harry.

She waited only as long as it took for the man to begin raising his wand. All her emotions were unleashed in the blink of an eye. The loud shout "Stupify!" echoed off the walls and ceiling. Every ounce of energy funnelled through her arm and out of the wand's tip. It left her body tingling even as the red curse streaked across the room to strike the man solidly in the back. The force behind the spell sent him crashing into the wooden cabinet against the wall. Wood splintered and glass vials shattered. The limp body slowly slid towards the ground in a crumpled heap.

Ginny's outstretched arm trembled, but did not drop as she hurried to Harry's side. The man began to groan even before she reached Harry. A second, almost equally powerful

spell illuminated the dark room. It slammed into the man's chest. Items which had survived the first impact exploded under the ferocity of curse.

The man lay motionless and silent. Careful to remain partially hidden, she edged her way towards the battered wizard. Shattered glass crunched beneath her feet. The slow rise and fall of his chest proved a small comfort. With quick efficient wand work she tightly bound his arms and legs before glancing about the room for any other signs of a threat. Her study allowed the man's wand to be found. After retrieving it, she hid herself in another dark corner lest someone else enter.

The door to the room burst open. A tall, and instantly familiar, security wizard dove into the room with a forward role over his left shoulder. A second man, stepped inside covering his partner. Lastly, Gwenog marched into the room, wand drawn looking fiercer than ever before.

"Ginny?" her couched called out. "Are you alright?"

She moved out from the shadow slowly and Gwenog let out a long breath. "I'm fine, but there's a man bound in the far corner."

The guards rushed towards the man laying bound and gagged. "Nice work, miss," the older of the two guards called. Ginny would have to learn their names. "Oi, Gwen. It's that Malfoy bloke."

"Tie him up, Arnold. We've been looking for him for a while." Ginny had never before heard such relief in her coach's voice. It was almost unnerving.

"He'll not be moving much anyway, Gwen. Gin here has the man pretty tightly strung."

"Merlin, look what she did to the bloody cabinet." The other guard whispered loudly as he helped Arnold with Malfoy.

Gwenog appeared in front of Ginny. The woman still managed to look worried. "Did he get to Harry?" she asked in a quiet stern voice.

Ginny shook her head. "No, I stunned him as soon as I was sure he meant harm."

"Stun is a bloody understatement," Arnold whispered to his colleague.

Tears welled up in Gwenog's eyes as the enormity of something overwhelmed her. Arms encircled Ginny. "Merlin, thank you." Gwenog cried. "I..." she began to sob against Ginny's shoulder who could do little more than pat the woman's back uncomfortably. "After tonight, the Bludger, and now Malfoy!" she spat out the man's name. Gwenog wiped away some of her tears, but they kept coming. "Forgive me, Ginny. After... I just don't know if I could survive losing Harry."

"I'll never let anyone hurt him on my watch," Ginny said with fierce determination. The ring on her finger felt warm against her skin. She'd never spoken truer words. "But what's this about? You don't seem surprised."

"Well there is a reason for Harry being so secretive and why he quit Quidditch," Gwenog replied.

Ginny only had to think about the bruised face and other injuries during their training month. "I guess that's what Harry wants to talk to me about," Ginny said as they watched the two guards carry Malfoy out of the room. The name suddenly rang a bell. "Does he have a son?"

Gwenog nodded. "Draco."

Ginny felt her skin prickle at the memory of Malfoy and his Slytherin friends. They really despised Gryffindors and had always gone out of their way to taunt them. Thankfully they had stayed far away from Ginny.

"His son was a year ahead of me at school. Troubled kid."

"Dangerous father," Gwenog agreed. "It's done." The words were spoken so softly that Ginny felt sure that she was not meant to have overheard.

As the sleepless night rolled by slowly those last words of Gwenog kept playing over in her mind. Harry's breathing had remained steady. There were, however, occasional bouts of pain as the skelegrow potion did its work. He'd be awake by sunrise, and as healed as magic allowed in a night, but he'd probably be stiff for days.

Behind the invisibility charm, she played with the ring on her finger. She would stick with him no matter what he told her. He'd already accepted her haunted past with Tom Riddle.

She tensed, hoping her brothers wouldn't harm Harry too much when they first meet. Then she laughed softly at herself; even her brothers knew when not to hit someone.

Her parents were probably the real problem, but then again they would probably accept him quickly as they could already tell how good Harry had been for her. The tension returned. She hoped they would.

The Prophet lay before Lucius as he sat alone in his temporary cell; Azkaban was waiting. His body ached and both his back and chest pulsed with pain from the guard's spell, which had struck him. The force behind the blow had him wondering about the caster. The power of it eliminated most members of the Order and he briefly wondered if Dumbledore had been in the room. If it had been then he'd have to find the man to return the compliment, but that would be something else to work towards after finishing Harry.

Being captured would prove troublesome, born from a moment of weakness upon hearing about Harry's state. Lucius would not make the same mistake again. He glanced down at the paper. The moving picture of the Harpy's Seeker as she dove to catch Harry covered the front page.

"A pity the plan did not go as planned, My Lord." A gruff voice spoke from behind Lucius.

The tip of the other man's wand touched the paper and it burst into flame. The light illuminated Lucius' faint smile. "Potter's heroic rescue of this…" He glanced at the rapidly diminishing paper for the name. "Weasley might just help."

The newspaper curled upwards as it burned. The last to disappear was the face of a very determined Weasley.

"I would've preferred an unfortunate accident, My Lord." The other man sounded unimpressed.

"Let the poor girl live. Potter is who we want and he is playing right into my… our hands."

The other man coughed. "If you say so, My Lord."

Lucius ignored the comment for now. The man would be needed to get out of this predicament. "Are the plans for the Cannons in place?"

"They are, My Lord."

Lucius stood stiffly and turned to stare through the bars to the man standing outside. "Excellent."

Ginny left to go see her parents after the nurses and Healers returned the next morning to check on an already standing Harry. They deserved to see her and know that she was alright. They probably wanted to celebrate her first ever victory in professional Quidditch even though the win felt hollow.

She, however, did not go home immediately. Instead Ginny detoured to take a deliberate stroll across the Harpies pitch. The deep furrow made by her broom remained. The memory of the sudden calm and disorientation after the crash made her shiver. The minutes ticked by as she worked to overcome the fears threatening to overwhelm her. In a few days' time she would need to be up in the air again. And up there she needed to be fearless.

Satisfied that her fears would indeed be overcome, she Apparated to the Burrow. Her foot barely entered the kitchen before her mother's strong arms wrapped themselves around her. "I'm fine, mum," Ginny managed to say. The hold tightened. "Steady mum, try not to break any more ribs!"

"Sorry, dear," her mother said hurriedly while letting go. "We've been so worried. I don't think I slept at all last night."

Ginny edged further into the house. The entire Weasley family sat in the living room; brothers, sister-in-laws and Hermione. All strangely subdued. None had slept much more than her mother if haggard looks were anything to go by. They did, however, look up expectantly and oddly guiltily.

"What?" The word left Ginny's mouth slowly. Their expressions reminded her of times when something irreparable had been broken.

Things became even more worrying when Bill spoke. "Is it true that Potter tried to keep the Bludger from hitting you?"

It was not the first question she'd been expecting, especially since the answer seemed intuitively obvious. The words made her anxious and as any good Weasley her temper began to flare a fraction.

"Wasn't that obvious from what he did?" The harshness of the words silenced the next question on some of their lips. "The man's been suffering the entire night for what he did out there." Ron tried to speak, it only made her anger grow. "How dare you even ask such a thing? If you'd only seen the amount of blood he lost!"

The heads of all the Weasleys dropped in shame. Their cheeks burned a deep red.

"What?" This time the word sounded like a whip as it cracked. Everyone jumped at the question.

Ron received a forceful nudge from Hermione's knee. "Tell her, Ron," the girl said anxiously through clenched teeth.

Her brother tried to look up, but could not. "We... Well, you know…"

"Get on with it," Ginny huffed out.

Ron paled, the rest of brothers looked no better. "Ginny, it was a misunderstanding. The Bludger... Potter was muttering under his breath..."

Her fear dissolved into a cold dread. "What did you do?" Her eyes narrowed, the words whispered. "Please tell me you didn't overreact." Even as she spoke the horrible truth dawned on her. Harry had been bleeding the first time she'd seen him. Her lips began to quiver with rage.

"Bill broke his nose and I kicked him in the ribs," Ron mumbled quickly as he tried to hide behind Hermione.

"You... did... what!" Every window pane rattled from an uncontrolled wave of power as Ginny roared loudly enough to make every person in the room duck for cover. "He lost more blood because of you!"

Charlie recovered first, or perhaps he was just stupid enough to open his mouth. Ginny barely managed to see him as peaked out from behind the couch. "Umm... congratulations on the catching the Snitch."

Ginny inhaled deeply. Her glare made Charlie duck back behind the relative safety of the couch. The sound of something crashing to the floor broke the spell over her. If not for the distraction she might have cursed a brother or two. "Is this true, mum?" Her tightly clenched fists rested on her hips.

Her mother stuttered and fidgeted with an apron. "It really was a misunderstanding, Ginny. Everyone was so worried about you. It seemed only…"

"That's just bloody great!" Ginny turned on her heals and stormed out of the Burrow to Apparate back to the stadium before her family managed to shame her even further. "How am I ever going to apologise for my family."

"Hey, Ginny," Harry called from behind.

She shrieked in surprise at seeing him stumble about. "You're walking!"

"A bit stiff, but good to walk." He laughed while hobbling closer. "How's my favourite Quidditch player?"

Her cheeks still felt hot from venting an anger that would not dissolve. "I just heard what my brothers did."

"Misunderstanding," Harry brushed the incident aside quickly. "They must've thought I was hexing the Bludger." He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Guess my comment to Bill didn't help." The reply came with a shrug. "Tensions were running high during those moments. I can't even remember what went through my head."

She frowned. "But, they hit you, Harry. Broke your nose and kicked you in the..."

He broke her tirade off by pressing chapped lips against hers. "Look, Ginny. I'm glad they are willing to stand up to a celebrity like me to look out for you. It only improves my opinion of them. Were they hasty? Yes. Were they wrong? Yes. But they only had good intentions at heart."

"So you really aren't angry at them?" she asked while trying hard to not get her hopes up.

"I don't think so." He smiled while rubbing his now fixed face. "But my nose might be holding a grudge for a while yet."

Ginny relaxed and let herself be wrapped in his arms. Slowly, the anger began to ebb away, but it would only take one look at her brothers to reignite the flame.

"I'm sorry for my over enthusiastic family." Ginny sighed eventually.

"They did seem a bit over eager to get to know me personally. You didn't tell them about us, did you?" He grinned.

She rolled her eyes while forcing herself to step back. "Since you seem to be well enough to make stupid remarks, I'll be going. I really need to see my family before you start making anymore ill-advised comments like that." She played with the concealed ring. "You could come with me?"

He gave a resigned shake of his head. "I'd love to, but perhaps we should just let things settle first. I've come into enough contact with your brothers to last a day or two." His

mood shifted as he glanced up at the sky and dug his hands into his pockets. "Besides, they deserve the day with you."

A slight tension in his voice worried her, but there was little to be done. After a concerned kiss she Apparated back to the Burrow.

"That was very..."

Ginny cut her mother off with an angry glare. "I needed to go apologise for my brothers' actions." Guilt at being rude overcame her rage. "Sorry, mum, but I needed to go make things right."

Mrs Weasley's disappointment lessoned, if only somewhat. "I understand." She motioned Ginny into the living room where the entire family sat waiting.

"You guys are lucky that Harry Potter seems to be a forgiving guy." She said while holding her wand in clear view. She glared at Bill, making her oldest brother avert his gaze. "Harry apologises for saying something rash to you."

Bill's eyes widened in surprise. "He did? Why?"

Ginny glared at him. "Am I supposed to know the depths of the world's best recluse?"

"No, but you're meant to be celebrating!" Ron shouted. The tip of his wand exploded with a crack and streamers went flying across the room. "My sister won her first game!"

As if on cue they all began to cheer wildly. Ginny felt her desire to hex them grow steadily. A stray streamer hit her forehead and dropped to the floor. The hand holding her wand began to tremble, but the way Fred and George pranced about singing loudly made her pause, if only briefly.

Her parents watched the unfolding scene in horror. Something made a puffing sound and to her surprise a chicken now stood where Bill had once been. Her brother, stunned, ran into the living room table and collapsed. It could not be helped, Ginny snorted. It quickly turned into a deep laugh as Ron turned bright Orange. The anger she'd felt melted away into a deep and unmoving love for her family. They loved her and had tried to help even though they had been thick about it.

Before she could blink, Fred and George hoisted her up into the air while chanting, "Weasley! Weasley!"

She shrieked as her feet left the floor. High above her family, she could see nothing but pure pride for their sister. Even Fleur clapped and shouted along, while being careful not to trod on Bill.

The celebrations lasted all morning, but after the initial few minutes of fun, Ginny never managed to get back into the merriment. She was much too busy being angry at herself for not being angry at her brothers. Yet, looking at them and watching their celebrations in her honour, she could do nothing more than love them more, which in turn angered her even further. It proved a vicious cycle.

Eventually Ginny slipped out of the house. It was probably the only way to avoid the mass torture of her family. Once outside she made her way to a secluded corner of the garden. The fresh air and sudden quiet allowed her to regain some control over her emotions. Alone and free from noise her mind wondered back to the game and Harry's proposal.

"You seem a little out of sorts today." Hermione spoke while joining a lonely Ginny by the garden bench. The quiet was not to be.

Ginny did not look up at her brother's girlfriend. "Just a lot to process."

"A rogue Bludger, I guess, is difficult to come to terms with. Add the fact that it was your first game..."

Ginny nodded as her friend spoke. The events bothered her, but not nearly as much as Malfoy who had snuck into Harry's room. For the first time she really pondered what the man had been doing there. Had he meant to kill Harry? A sudden fear gripped her, which quickly turned to panic.

"... third division. Ginny are you alright, you've gone awfully pale." Hermione's voice broke through Ginny's thoughts.

"I'm…" Ginny nodded. "Just a flashback from yesterday. Sorry, I really should be listening."

Hermione looked worried. "That's alright. I'll just sit here with you or I could go in if you want some time alone."

"No, that's alright," Ginny replied. "Some company would be good."

The girl smiled and a book appeared in her hand. Ginny was about to comment, but a large white owl descended down towards them. It was a majestic animal. Just before reaching the pair, the bird pulled up and landed gracefully on the arm rest beside Ginny. The owl proceeded to lift one leg so the letter could be removed with ease.

"I've never seen such a beautiful owl," Hermione said in awe.

Neither had Ginny. "It's addressed to me," she said while removing the letter. As soon as it was undone the bird nipped at her affectionately before flying away into the afternoon sky.

It was Harry's handwriting and she vaguely remembered him mention his white owl, but the bird had always been away. She opened the letter and began to read.

Ginny,

I've received some interesting news. Need to talk. Please come as soon as you're able.

"I need to go, Hermione," Ginny spoke hastily.

"Is it Mr Mysterious? Does he want to celebrate your victory tonight?"

Ginny frowned. "What? Oh no. Yes it's him, but he already wished me luck after the game."

Hermione's eyebrow rose thoughtfully. "He did? When?"

Ginny decided to get moving before her friend could dig deeper. "Tell my parents that I'll be home as soon as I can." She hurried to the Apparation point and left before her friend could say anything more.

She arrived in the middle of Harry's flat. He paced up and down by the fireplace. If she'd not seen his injuries she would scarcely have believed that he'd been hurt.

"Ok, what do you want to talk about, Harry?" Ginny asked.

"That was quick. Didn't expect you for hours still." He did smile broadly, however. "But I'm not complaining."

She gave him a quick kiss. "So what's this all about?"

They sat down and Harry fidgeted with his fingers. "Um... the Cannons' Seeker took a knock at practise this morning. Heavy knock to the head and has been ruled out for months. Something to do with eyesight and coordination."

"So they've asked if you would like to play again." Ginny added when it looked like Harry felt unsure of what to say next. "But you're injuries from yesterday?"

"Minor." He grinned. "I'll be fine in a day or two and there are still two weeks before the next game."

"But you quit at the end of last season. Why play now?" He frowned slightly. "I'd love for you to play again." Inside her stomach did flips, she would love to play against him for real. "I'm just trying to understand why you would want to play now."

"I should probably start with everything." He stood. "Would you like some tea?"

She nodded and followed him into the kitchen. He began to talk as the water began to heat.

"My story begins when I was a little over a year old. My parents fought in the first war against Voldemort." Ginny gasped at the name. "It's just a name, Ginny."

"I know, but honestly could you use something else."

"No," Harry said. "I gave up too much to let the name be some kind of taboo." Ginny could only nod. She could tell it meant a lot to him.

"One night Voldemort came to our home and murdered my father and my mother. My father died protecting my mother and me. My mother gave up her life to take a killing

curse for me." His voice became thick with emotion and Ginny felt her own chest ache for him. "He came for me. He stood over my crib and laughed. I can still see it happening in my nightmares. Then he raised his wand and the Avada Kedavra struck me on the forehead."

"Wait!" Ginny stood shaking her head. "You expect me to believe..." Harry's face said it all. There was nothing but the truth in those words. "Alright," she said taking her seat again, prepared to listen.

He nodded as if in understanding. "You can go ask Dumbledore. He was the one who found me after the attack." She only stared at him in open wonder while he busied himself preparing tea. "After that night Voldemort was gone. His body had been destroyed but he lived on."

"The middle years," Ginny whispered in awe. "You destroyed him as a child. How did he come back from the grave?"

Harry shrugged. "Sort of, but like I said, he lived on. While he was still at school, Voldemort started creating things called Horcruxes. They are the most evil objects formed by the most hideous dark magic." She shivered at the tone of his voice. "He split his soul into pieces and placed each portion of himself in a object of some kind." Harry looked up into Ginny's eyes. "You once said that you understood the darkness in my eyes and that you had seen it in your own at times."

Ginny leaned closer towards him. "Yes, I've never experienced that with anyone else. It's dark like I would expect from a Death Eater, but even they never had that look."

"They wouldn't." Harry laughed nervously. "There is a reason for the look. We both share a similar past."

"You were cursed by a magically diary too?" Ginny asked in shock.

His head shook faintly and he rubbed at his forehead, as if feeling for something. "No, not by a diary." His hand waved before his face and a small zigzag scar became visible. She gasped and reached out to touch it. It was pale white from healing.

"Why hide it?" Ginny asked.

"Too much of a reminder," he said. "You see, I got this scar on the night my parents were killed. At first we thought it cursed because it was formed by the Avada Kedvra. Then we found out about the Horcruxes."

Ginny's hand froze where it touched the scar. "You mean a piece of V...Vol... Voldemort's soul was trapped inside the scar."

"Was, yes." He smiled at her. She felt proud for not flinching, but she did feel a bit insecure knowing what had been in him. It took all the strength she had and more to remind herself of her own past and its haunting effect on her.

"But, how does this relate our pasts? I was never hit by a curse or implanted with a soul."

"There is something that very few people know about. Voldemort is not You-Know-Who's real name. The name he was born with, the one he used at Hogwarts was none other than Tom Riddle."

Ginny's blood drained away from her face. She began to shake. Immediately Harry's arms were around her. "You were so strong in your first year. To have resisted him for a full year. You are a strong woman, Ginny." She let him hold onto her as she tried to make sense of it all.

"Vol.. demort... possessed me?" she asked.

"Briefly, but you fought him off long enough for me to destroy the Horcrux."

"The diary," she said in disgust. Her stomach became unsettled and she rushed into the bathroom. Her right hand kept her long red hair out of her face and she steadied herself with her left. Lunch did not taste so good the second time. Harry crouched beside her and placed a gentle hand on her back.

"It was destroyed and the hold it had on you with it. You have nothing to fear from Tom just like I have nothing to fear from Voldemort."

"But the other Horcuxes?" Ginny asked. Her trembling body leaned back against the cold wall.

"Have all been destroyed." Harry settled back against the bathroom wall beside her. "I was the last Horcrux to be destroyed."

"Why does that sound ominous?" Ginny mumbled. Her head rested against his shoulder and her arms wrapped around her shins.

"Because I died." He answered the question so calmly that it took her a moment to fully comprehend the reply.

"How's that even possible?"

"Only one soul died that day. It was his, mine was allowed to choose between the next big adventure or life. I came back, Gwenog would've killed me otherwise."

Ginny snorted. "She'd have gone to hell to bring you back just to send you there again."

Harry nodded. His fingers stroked through her tangled red hair. "What happened then?"

"I killed him at the battle of Hogwarts," Harry whispered. "The students were kept away as much as possible and I fought with a slight disguise." Ginny nodded as she relaxed under the ministrations of his fingers. "You're taking this much better than I expected."

She breathed out slowly and then her mind began to settle. "Strangely, you've just helped ease a lot of my burdens, Harry. I've always thought that I was some pathetic girl who'd been deceived by a simple spell. Instead, I know now that I survived a mental battle with a part of the greatest dark wizard to have lived in centuries. We both have." She tried to smile up at him. "I should really be freaked out. I was for a moment, but now I'm glad I know the truth."

He kissed her forehead. "So you still want to marry me, Miss Weasley?"

"If anything, it just makes my love stronger." They sat on the cold stone floor. His arm wrapped around her comfortingly. "I just have one more question. Why did you stop playing?"

"There was a Death Eater that escaped the battle. He had this belief that Voldemort will rise again like the first time. He's been trying to track me down for years. We had hoped he would never learn my true name."

"And he did?"

Harry nodded. "At the start of my fourth year at the Cannons. We increased the protection around the ground and even added some security."

"Like the two guys with Gwenog last night?"

Harry nodded. "They're old Order members. Two of the few who knew who I was."

"So?" Ginny urged.

"Things got a bit too close for comfort and so I quit in the hope of being able to capture him without being distracted by Quidditch." He ruffled his hair angrily. "What happened to you was what I had been fearing."

"You want me to quit!" Ginny roared.

"If you hadn't stunned Malfoy yesterday then it might have come to that." Harry replied honestly.

"But?" Ginny asked with calm she never knew she had.

"Malfoy and his followers are finished." Harry grinned. "All of them have been marched off to Azkaban."

"You went hunting Death Eaters this morning?" she asked in a dangerously low voice. Harry nodded sheepishly. "And that day when I arrived at the pitch and you were injured." He nodded again looking increasingly guilty. "Harry James Potter!" She began to shout. "You will never do something like that again without telling me!"

He stiffened only to break out into a smile. "I promise, but they're all captured, Ginny. Every last recorded Death Eater is either dead or captured." He laughed and she could

hear the relief and joy in it. "I'm free, Ginny. For the first time ever, I'm free to do what I want."

His mood was infectious. "Like meet my parents."

The laugh died in his throat. "Yes, I can certainly do that."

"Tomorrow night?" she asked and he nodded. "And we're telling them about our engagement."

"Merlin, from being forced into hiding to be bossed around by my girlfriend."

"Fiancée," she corrected as the charm on her finger vanished. "Big difference, Mr. Potter."

"Apparently so."

"So… can I play for the Cannons?" Harry pleaded. "I really really want to play, fiancée."

She laughed, pushing him away playfully. "Umm... well..." His green eyes were as innocent and cute as he could make them. "Still thinking Potter." She tapped her chin thoughtfully. "I think that I cannot allow you not to play."

"I love you, Ginny Weasley!" Harry shouted. "Have I ever told you how much?"

"Not that I can recall," she replied. He jumped to his feet and pulled her up with him and his arms encircled her waist.

A few hours later Ginny crawled out of the warm bed and crossed the room to Harry's writing table. She scratched a quick note and then summoned Kreacher. She asked him to deliver the letter to her parents. While he was gone she scribbled another. Kreacher returned as asked and she gave him the second.

Harry's hands rested on her shoulders as he kissed her the top of her head. "What are you up to? Taking over my household already?"

"This place needs a feminine touch, Potter." She laughed, feeling excited. The idea that she might be starting her own home soon felt exhilarating. "Just don't start thinking about little Potter's just yet. I need to kick your backside in the league first."

"Wouldn't dream of it." Harry laughed. "I have to trounce you at least once in the public eye."

Ginny groaned. "Isn't thirty games to love enough?"

He shook his head. "Nope."

Ginny, dressed in a new pair of jeans and blouse she'd bought earlier the day, frowned at the clock. Her fingers tapped the side of her leg. The minute hand did not move, and still it moved too fast; they should have been here already.

"Ginny." The voice belonged to a thoroughly frustrated Ron who was sitting beside Hermione on the couch. "Would you mind telling us what this is all about? We've been sitting here for an hour."

She stopped pacing long enough to send her brother a flat look. Ron threw his arms in to the air; frustration did not begin to describe her family.

Their mother narrowed her eyes at them. Ginny did not say anything. "What?" Ron moaned. "It's not like I'm keeping everyone trapped in the house."

"I'm sure Ginny has something important planned." Mrs. Weasley let her gaze linger on Ginny, the question clear. She wanted to know what was going on.

Bill stood. Fleur reached out to hold him back, but he ignored the attempt. If possible, he looked even angrier. "It's obvious." The harshness in his voice made every head turn. "She's invited this boyfriend over." Every word was filled with scorn.

The room cooled instantly as each of her other five over protective brothers contemplated the implication of Bill's words. Almost as suddenly the heat began to rise. Their faces began to flush and each pair of eyes sparked with unusual intensity. Charlie, jaw set, punched his left palm softly. Ron recited some spell he'd learned at the Auror Academy. Fred and George schemed, while Percy looked calculating.

"Boys!" Her mother warned them dangerously. The tone left no room for argument. "You've done enough of that to last a lifetime." They looked only slightly abashed. "You're fortunate the Ministry allowed you back at the Acadamy." Ron wilted. Hermione did not offer him any support; she merely agreed vigorously with Ron's mother.

Small beads of sweat began to form on Ginny's forehead. She said nothing. Anything she said now would only inflame the fires burning within. Their defiance was still written clearly on each of their faces.

"She's been seeing this guy for months!" Their mother's glare had not affected Bill as much as the others. Being the oldest meant he'd forgotten their mother's wrath. Ginny straightened her back, lifted her chin, and met her brother's glare. For a brief moment it appeared as if Bill wanted to say something more.

Charlie, who was to her left, rose to his feet. Bill had set them off again. "It's about time we teach this…" Charlie's mouth worked to find the right word. "Guy." It was said with loathing.

Ron nodded in agreement. "We can't just have some tosser come and steal Ginny from us."

The wand, neatly tucked away in its holster, cried out to be used. Ginny had to unclench a fist. "What if it is him?" The words came out much more calmly than she'd expected. "I can see whoever I like."

Their eyes lit with sudden anger. Fred and George began to whisper. Their hands moved about in quick short motions as they described some scenario to each other. The brief discussion ended with twin nods.

Her father cleared his throat loudly. "I will have none of this foolishness, boys." The stern words caused her brothers to lose a bit of their bravado. "Whoever your sister invited is a guest in this house. And…" He let his last word hang in the air expectantly.

"We treat all guests with respect." Her brothers repeated mechanically. Though restrained, she had no illusions about what they were thinking. If her boyfriend entered this house he'd be in for a rude awakening. Strangely, she could not help but grin.

"Relax," she said to the room as her fingers played with the hidden engagement ring. "I don't have a boyfriend." She had to laugh at the jaws dropping. "And I'm not planning on having one in the near future." Ginny did not add that she would probably never have a boyfriend again.

"Well that is good news indeed!" Percy said seriously. "I mean a young inexperienced girl such as yourself should not be burdened with the foolishness of boys."

She nodded in agreement. "Boys are so overrated." Ginny agreed. "And so immature. I'll wait for them to grow a bit. Perhaps when they're twenty-two or so."

"Wise decision." Charlie said in hearty agreement. "That's a good age for a wizard."

Ginny did not miss her father's curious glance, she had told him that Harry was older. She imagined that her eyes twinkled just slightly with mischief. He definitely suspected something.

Bill stood to give her a stiff brotherly hug. "I'm glad you've got this nonsense about boys behind you. A Quidditch star like yourself shouldn't be hindered by some young idiot who doesn't know what to do with his life."

Ginny hugged him back. "I promise to marry a guy who has done something with his life. Perhaps you know of a few friends who fought in the war."

Bill let go and rubbed at his rough beard, but did not look all too pleased by her statement. "Leave ze poor girl!" Fleur said from her chair.

Her brother continued to eye his sister curiously. She put on her most innocent expression. "You're up to something, Ginny." His voice was low and for her alone. "You're not lying, but…"

"What you whispering about?" Ron called from the couch.

Hermione nudged him forcefully. "Ron! Manners."

He appeared only slightly abashed, but her bull headed brother ploughed onwards. "I just want to know what they're talking about, Hermione."

Bill stepped back. "I was just wishing her some luck."

Ginny folded her arms and stared down at Ron. He stiffened before settling back beside Hermione. The room felt poised as if the merest disturbance would cause the house to explode. Ginny held her breath, Harry really needed to arrive. In stillness of the stalemate the twin cracks from outside sounded loud.

Her father was first to speak. "That must be our guest… guests by the sound of things."

Ginny and her parents went outside leaving her brothers inside to stew further. She could only hope that they were not planning a war.

The sight of Harry felt like a fresh breath of air. His oddly messy hair could only distract slightly from the bright green eyes staring back at her. Thankfully no signs of Chudley orange were visible. If there had been she would have seen to it immediately. She would not have her future husband meet her parents dressed in the world's most vile Quidditch colour.

Beside him walked Gwenog. She wore a neat Harpies blouse, something Ginny suspected the woman always wore. To most the woman would have appeared calm, but Ginny could see the underlying confusion in the older woman's expression.

Ginny had continued towards them, her parents only a stride behind. "Harry, Gwenog, welcome to the Burrow." Her greeting was as would be expected.

"Thank you for inviting us," Gwenog answered.

Ginny shook her coach's hand. Unsure of what to do, she avoided Harry's. He hid his amusement well, but the gleam in his eyes could not be hidden so easily. Her narrowed eyes quickly sobered him.

"Harry, I'd like you to meet my parents, Molly and Arthur Weasley." She faced Gwenog. "You've met my mother before."

Her coach smiled. "How could I forget. A pleasure to see you again, Molly." She extended her hand to greet Ginny's mother. "And to finally meet you, Arthur." He shook her hand as well.

Her parents, however, seemed unsure of how to react to the mythical figure of Harry Potter; especially considering the game a few days before. "It's an honour to be here," Harry said finally to break the tension.

Mrs. Weasley blushed slightly and her father looked terribly ashamed. "It is we who should be honoured. The man who helped look out for our daughter is always welcome in our home."

Ginny raised a hopeful eyebrow, but the truth about Harry might change the statement a little.

Harry held onto her father's hand. "It was the least that I could do, Mr. Weasley."

"But please, come inside." Her mother tried her best to sound calm, it failed miserably. Harry was of course her favourite player. It almost rivalled her obsession with Lockhart. "I'm sure you are all starving." Her eyes flicked across Harry and Ginny could read her mother's thoughts.

Ginny moved quickly to her side. "He definitely does not need fattening, mother." Even though the words had been whispered, she swore she heard Harry chuckle.

The group entered the living room. Whatever the men had been discussing the words died quickly as they stepped apart; their movements were a bit too quick to be normal. Hermione and Fleur sat shaking their heads, but not even Ginny had figured out how to stop her brothers from being brotherly.

"Blimey." Ron was the first to say.

"Merlin's Beard," Fred and George inhaled together.

Bill had gone completely pale and Charlie tried his best to block his face from being recognised. Percy stood straight backed as ever. Ginny doubted that the man could feel any guilt.

"Everyone," Ginny began loudly. "I would like to introduce Harry and my coach Gwenog Jones. I invited them over today so that we could sort your little… um… get together out."

"And to meet the in-laws," Harry whispered from behind. Ginny flushed even as she wondered how he managed to appear so calm.

Harry took a bold step towards Bill and extended his hand. "No hard feelings."

Bill took the hand gratefully. "I'm truly sorry. I… we were all a bit anxious… my mind… wasn't really thinking right… you know…"

Harry clapped the big curse breaker on the shoulder. "I shouldn't have made a stupid comment."

"Still." Bill shrugged. "For what it's worth, we are all grateful for what you did for our little Ginny."

"Little!" Ginny fumed. How dare he belittle her before Harry and Gwenog.

Harry chuckled, but it was missed by her brothers who all took a step back. Harry glanced back at Ginny and did his best to not laugh out loud. It took a lot of her willpower to relax.

In order to avoid any further confrontations, Ginny began to introduce everyone individually. Ron blubbered, Percy stood stiffly, Fred and George attempted but failed somehow to prank Harry and Charlie overcame his awkwardness to be friendly. Fleur and Hermione were the friendliest of the group, but they had the least to feel guilty about.

When everyone was introduced everyone began to split apart. Bill, Charlie and her parents moved aside to talk with Gwenog. Fleur and Hermione moved towards the couch and sat. Percy strode purposefully to a corner where he could study everyone and everything. Fred and George conspired as per usual.

"Butterbeer, Harry?" Oddly enough it was Ron who offered to get a drink.

Harry faced her brother. "That would be great."

Ron practically glowed from being able to do something for his idol.

Ginny tried to appear calm when they were left slightly alone. "Are we going to say something?"

He shrugged very slightly just before Ron returned with a Butterbeer for each of them. "Here you go, mate." He thrust the other into Ginny's hand without glancing in her direction.

Harry's expression changed. It had grown odd. "Thanks." He took a sip. "Ron, Ginny tells me you are quite the Chudley's fanatic."

"I've been ever since I knew what Quidditch was," he sounded proud. Then he grew alarmed. "She did!"

"What do you make of the team this year?" Ginny asked in the hope of distracting Ron.

"The Cannons are as strong as ever, except for your replacement. He might be good, but there is something lacking in his flying. The man hasn't got the same feel for a broom. I swear, Harry, you turned before you even thought about it." Harry was about to say something. "But you've been lucky, mate. If it weren't for your pure speed on a broom, you would've lost a fair number."

Ginny grinned into her own Butterbeer. She would have had Harry in that last practise game if not for the man's pure speed. "Yeah, where do you get that from, Harry?"

"Ginny!" Ron looked horrified. "You can't ask the man that. You know, trade secrets and all!"

"Why not?" Ginny huffed. "I'm allowed to ask."

Harry laughed loudly. "Of course you are, Ginny." Ron looked gobsmacked. "But I can also refuse to answer. You know, sworn to secrecy and all."

Harry nudged Ron good naturedly. This time it was Ron's turn to laugh. "Told you so, Ginny."

She was not pleased, but the sight of Harry trying to keep from laughing proved too much. Soon all three were fighting to keep silent.

A hand closed around her arm and pulled her around. "Hey, Ginny," Fred whispered. "Did you tell him about our pranks?"

She shook her head. The topic of her brothers' hobby never really surfaced. "Why?"

George appeared next to his brother. "The man's a natural at the stuff."

He carefully raised his palm. The words 'To prank a prankster one needs to search the hidden ways of a true Marauder'.

Fred's eyes were wide with wonder. "He knows."

Ginny held up a hand defensively. "I swear, Fred, we never discussed your map."

"Discussed?" George frowned. "How much have you two been talking?"

Ginny almost floundered. "Not much, but we did have a nice chat at the opening function."

The twins sighed. "Ah, we forgot about that." Then they edged past her to join Harry's conversation with Ron.

Ginny swallowed nervously, but there was little to be done at the moment. For now, Harry would need to fend for himself. Needing a distraction, Ginny went to talk to Hermione.

Before she could reach her there was a loud bang. Ginny rounded on her heel, ready to shout at Fred or George. Instead she heard Harry's voice. "Merlin, I wonder what could have caused that." Fred stood stiffly, his hair bright pink. George and Ron had leapt backwards, their hands already clutching their stomachs from laughter.

Ginny ignored them and flopped down beside Hermione. "What am I ever going to do with them?"

Hermione hid her amusement well. "They should really open that shop of theirs. It'll burn all that excess energy."

"They better hope Harry is not their first customer." Ginny sat up a bit. "He is rather good at this pranking thing."

"Worried?" Hermione glanced curiously at Ginny.

"Dinner's ready!" Mrs. Weasley called out. The mention of food quickly turned Hermione's attention away from Ginny. Something she was grateful for. Keeping their relationship secret was proving harder than she imagined.

Dinner passed in relative calm. No one was pranked and the food proved to be divine. With her mother in the kitchen nothing less could have been expected. But as she ate her insides turned and butterflies began to fly inside her stomach. When the meal was done Ginny knew she would need to tell the truth.

With their stomachs full the group crowded into the living room. Satisfied that they were all happy, her mother turned to head back in to the kitchen. Her guests would not be left wanting and so she had prepared dessert.

The moment had come. She glanced at Harry for reassurance. He nodded subtly and began to make his way towards her.

"Mum!" Ginny called out. Her mother stopped abruptly. "Wait, I've got something to say."

The room fell quiet and every eye turned towards her. "Umm... this is rather difficult to say." She fidgeted with her finger behind her back before tucking a stray hair behind an ear. Harry moved slightly closer to her. "This might sound a bit strange and sudden, but it really isn't. Not really anyway." She took a deep breath and thought of all the times it had been better to just get the pain over with. "Harry and I are engaged to be married." The words came out in a rush and her charm vanished to reveal the engagement ring.

The room went deathly quiet. "Surprise!" Ginny shouted half-heartedly to make some noise. Harry, standing beside her now, wrapped an arm around her shoulder. Every red haired person looked completely lost. It would take a moment for their minds to catch up with what Ginny had just dropped on them.

Gwenog was the first to react as she already knew about them dating. To everyone's' shock, except Ginny and Harry's, Gwenog began to cry as she hurried towards Harry. Her arms enveloped him. "I'm so happy for you. So happy..." She tried to stop crying. It did not help. Ginny could only watch. "Your mother, she would've been so happy. You're father proud. Remus..." she sobbed even more. "Sir... Sirius..."

"Would've smacked me with a broom and asked why I wasn't already married to this wonderful woman." Harry spoke softly, the words were for Gwenog alone. She cried into his shoulder before releasing Harry to embrace Ginny.

"Take care of him, dear. He's headstrong but no match for a Harpy."

"Or Weasley," her mother interrupted to emphasise that her family meant more; though she did seem completely confused. "When did this happen and what of that other boyfriend?"

Ginny grinned, while taking hold of Harry's hand. "Harry was my coach for the month before the actual Harpies training, mum. We started dating after a week." Ginny shrugged. "And here we are."

"But, what about..." Bill looked anxious, and his eyes darted towards their father. "You know... the incident."

"Harry rescued her from the bloody Chamber," Gwenog said loudly, catching on to Bill's meaning.

"You rescued her?" Bill's mouth hung open. "But..."

Gwenog huffed angrily. "Go ask Dumbledore if you don't believe me."

"He knows?" Mr. Weasley asked slowly. Then he shook his head. "Right, of course he knows." It was going to take a few minutes for everyone's minds to start working properly again. Ginny feared the moment when their minds cleared.

Mrs. Weasley said nothing as she made her way across the room to hug Ginny. "It seems you've met someone special. I want to say something about being too young, but your father and I were married at the same age."

"Thanks, mum." Ginny held onto her mother. "Once you learn who he is then you'll understand why I love him."

"I'm sure we will," her mother replied giving Harry a more critical look than earlier. There was going to be a lot of explaining to do in the coming days.

From there confused, but delighted congratulations poured in. It surprised Ginny. Bill and Charlie were fighting internal demons, but she could tell Harry's proven record of looking after their sister helped. Ron was too busy worshipping the floor on which Harry walked to think anything negative. The twins saw Harry as an equal and friendly rival, not some enemy to torment. Percy stood pensively, he would be the hardest to sway, but that was Percy.

Her father approached and placed a gentle but firm hand on Harry's shoulder. He led Harry from the room. At first Ginny thought her father was angry, but his eyes were soft.

She made to follow. "Wait, dear," he mother held her back. "He just needs to talk."

The Weasley brothers began to discuss matters amongst themselves while all the women in the room converged on Ginny.

"Ze ring," Fleur whispered anxiously. Hermione grabbed Ginny's arm before she could even react to the question. Four voices sighed dreamily.

"It's beautiful," Hermione whispered.

"He could've given me a piece of string and you would still have said it's beautiful."

Hermione shrugged. "But it is, Ginny."

"Iz perfeek," Fleur shrieked. "Ringz like seez iz rare."

Ginny brought it closer to her own face. It sparkled like magic.

"It's wonderful, dear." This time it was her mother's voice.

Eventually Ginny managed to free her hand. Her brothers still stood scheming amongst themselves and even from the far side of the room she could see their confusion and mixed emotions.

Ron split away from the group with a nod to his brothers and pulled Ginny aside. "You sure about this, Ginny? These celebrity types..."

She raised an eyebrow. "I'm one now too."

"Yes, but you're different, Ginny..."

"And so is Harry. In time you and the rest of the family will begin to see that."

Harry and her father entered the room. They both looked relaxed and happy. Ginny smiled.

Ron, not seeing a thing, nodded absently. "Just as long as it is more than some hero worship."

"Oh, it's a lot more, Ron. I don't think there will be anyone else for me."

"You seem very sure considering you've only known him for two months."

"I only really needed a single glance into his eyes, Ron." She faced her brother again. She could still see the moist eyes of Harry after the Quidditch final all those years ago. "Everything I need to know about him is in them."

Ron shook his head, not understanding a word, but she knew his mind worked differently. He loved Hermione in his own special way. "As long as you know what you're doing and if he loves you."

She smiled up at her brother. "He does, maybe even more than I love him."

Ron glanced across at Harry, eyes narrowed slightly. "Then I will go over there and give him my blessing."

"Thanks, Ron."

He rolled his eyes and walked across the room towards Harry. He pushed his father aside and immediately began an intense drilling session on Harry. Ginny beamed with pride. Ron was standing before his hero, the man whose shirt he could barely hold without stuttering, and badgered him on her behalf. It was adorable in a rather frustrating brotherly love sort of way.

"So he really is someone special," Hermione said handing Ginny a drink. They clinked their glasses. "I tried to guess." She shook her head. "But this was beyond my wildest

speculation even after the small article in the Witch Weekly about him talking to you at the function."

"He's more than special, Hermione."

Ginny considered the brief meeting they'd had with Dumbledore before Harry went to Gwenog. She together with a grumbling Harry had burst into the Headmaster's office. She'd demanded more answers from Dumbledore. Professor McGonagall had joined the conversation as well and together they confirmed every word Harry had spoken about his past. The fool had just left out a million other acts of heroism. All those little details that would have made him look good. The stories still rattled in her mind.

She leaned closer to her friend. "I shouldn't be saying this, but I know you can keep a secret, Hermione. Harry's life is one big secret, but I spoke with Dumbledore and McGonagall." The truth was so big and Harry's sacrifice so great, she couldn't keep his secret anymore. Not now after hearing it all from Dumbledore. "Harry killed Voldemort."

Hermione's eyes widened, first at the name Ginny used and then at the meaning. "You're joking."

Ginny shook her head. "No, deadly serious. There is a long story that I can't talk about nor remember in detail. But he did end the war at the Battle of Hogwarts."

"Explains the wandless magic at the game." Hermione nodded thoughtfully. "You had to have heard the uproar it caused at the Ministry yesterday. Quite the excited buzz."

"Oh," Ginny squeaked. "I almost forgot." She raised her voice. "Harry, didn't you have some other news to share tonight?"

He and Ron stopped laughing at some or other joke. Ginny briefly wondered when and how the interrogation turned into a laugh, but she was not going to complain. He ran a hand through his black hair.

"Now?" he asked. "It feels a bit..."

"Well if you won't," she cut him off. "Harry has signed to play for the Cannon's for the rest of the season," Ginny said loudly.

Ron threw his arms into the air. "Who we are going to support now?"

Fred groaned loudly at Ron's question. George slapped the back of Ron's head. "Harpies of course, except for this blighter."

"Not fair," Ron grumbled. "I support who ever I like and if they meet in the final then I'll support Ginny." He shuffled his feet about slightly and mumbled. "Sorry, Harry, but she's family. Got to support her you know."

"I'd be worried if you didn't," Harry chuckled. "But as the league works we can only play each other in the semi-final or final. So it's still a few months away."

She walked across the room to Harry and slipped her arm around his middle. "Love you." She whispered. He squeezed her tighter. "Want to go see my room. I want to show you something that meant the world to me."

"I'm coming too," Ron said eyeing Harry critically.

"Relax, Ron." She pushed her brother away. "Honestly."

She opened the door to her room, thankful that it was tidy, and led Harry in. She left the door open just in case her brothers decided to be stupid. Like she would do anything at the Burrow when they could just Apparate to Harry's flat.

"Nice room," Harry said. "Warm and comfortable." Ginny blushed when he noticed the old poster of him to the side of her bed. Then his eyes widened. "Is that?" he pointed at the scarf. "Did I?"

She gave him a puzzled look. "You gave that to me after the final. I was sitting alone thinking about being a Harpy."

"It was Victoria's scarf." He pointed at the emblem. "Those, as you know now, are only stitched onto the players' kit."

Ginny's eyes widened. "I'd always thought it was just a normal scarf."

"But you still treated it as something more."

She sat down on the edge of her bed. "You gave me the motivation to become the best Seeker I could be. I always kept the scarf with me. It reminded me of what you said."

"And you achieved your goals." His weight shifted on bed. "There was something about the red haired girl sitting alone by the pitch. Perhaps I recognised you from the Chamber, but I felt the need to talk to you."

"You did?" Ginny asked in surprise.

"I was walking out of the stadium when I saw you sitting there. At first I just watched over you. A young girl sitting by herself. Then... I don't know... I just talked."

"Why'd you cry?" She rubbed the back of his hand while waiting for him to reply.

"The love you showed for your father," Harry whispered. Again his eyes began to grow moist. "And now I see the love you have for your family. Having a family has always been my greatest desire. Then you mentioned that it was not about getting my card, but about your father wanting you to find one." He wiped at his eyes. "You cared more about your father than you did about yourself. I really liked that about the young girl." He laughed. "And she had a desire to be a Harpy. How could I not leave her the scarf I'd just traded mine for?"

They spent another hour chatting in her room before it became time to go socialise again. Eventually Harry said his farewells, kissed Ginny good night and disappeared along with Gwenog.

"A remarkable young man," Ginny's father said.

"If you only knew half of what he's done."

"Come now, Ginny," her mother laughed. "Isn't four Quidditch cups and saving your life twice enough."

"More than," Ginny replied. "But it doesn't begin to tell his story."

Her mother raised an eyebrow. "I'm guessing you're not going to tell us."

"Not tonight, mum, sorry." Ginny yawned.

"I don't really know him," her mother began as they walked back into the house. "But he does seem to love you."

"He and I are very alike, mum. And yes, he does love me, as much as I do him."

The radio crackled noisily. "Potter... Ah Mr. Potter. Do have a minute?"

"Not really, Bobby, but I'll answer a few questions."

"Great. I know some of listener's are eager to hear about why you decided to join the Chudley Cannon's again."

"The end of last season was a difficult time for me off the pitch, Bobby. I, unfortunately, cannot go into the details at this point in time. However, those issues have been resolved. So when my old coach owled me to ask if I would be willing to play again, I was all too happy to say yes. I had to ask the permission of a very special young lady, but she agreed."

"Merlin, Potter! I just heard the hearts of thousands of young women breaking around the globe."

"I'm sorry to all those out there, but I love this lady very much."

"Is she the reason for the trouble or the resolution to your problems?"

"I did not know her last season, but she definitely helped resolve my problems in a very unforeseen method."

"I'm sure we can all guess, hey Potter."

Harry laughed over the wireless. "I'm sure you can't, Bobby."

"Uhh... well alright. So what did you think of today's game? I'm sure you came to study the young Harpies Seeker again. She has shown some flare."

"I think she has a lot of raw talent. Much of which is still untapped and I eagerly look forward to a very exciting game later on in the season."

"Indeed. If going on current form it looks like we will be seeing the Cannons and Harpies in either the semi-final or final at the end of the season."

"I'd like nothing more. The Harpies have always been special to me so I would love to have a good game against them later."

"So you can crush them, hey Potter?"

"Of course." Harry laughed. "But I must be off, Bobby."

"Just one more question. Who is this lovely young lady who's helped change your life?"

"I'm sure you'd like to know. But at the moment we are trying to keep our private lives out of the Prophet and Witch Weekly."

"Well ladies. Harry Potter has found himself a witch. What do you make of it Peter?"

"First I've heard of it, but she must be quite the girl to have snagged the heart of such a man."

"Yes, I'm sure the Witch Weekly will be all over this news. But I think we need a quick roundup of the results before we end this broadcast."

"All Group A games have finished. The Catapults closely matched the Appleby Arrows with the Quaffle, but the Arrow's Seeker out did himself and the game ended at 270-160 for the Arrows. The Montrose Magpies dominated the Falmouth Falcons, but they failed to catch the valuable Snitch. The Magpies, however, still came out ahead at 440-330.

"Then of course the last game of the group was played tonight. The Harpies dominated the game and a brilliant ploy from Weasley caught the Ballycastle Bats' Seeker completely by surprise allowing her a take comfortable catch. The game ended convincingly for the Harpies at 450-260."

"It was a good round between eager and well-practised teams."

"Indeed, Bobby. As it stands now, the Harpies are still tied for the lead with the Arrows on six points. It's looking more like a two horse race in this group, with the closest competition, the Magpies and the Bats trailing on only two points. The Catapults and Falcons are barely hanging on with a single Snitch each this season so far leaving them with one point a piece."

"Seems like we are in for a nail biting race for the top of the log in this group, Peter. As our keen listeners would know, the Arrows are scheduled to play the Harpies in the fifth and final group game in January."

"Which we all know, Bobby, will be an important game as the winner of Group A will play the second placed team in Group B in February."

"Well that's it folks. Thank you for listening to our broadcast. Tune in again next weekend as we bring you more games from the second round of the Quidditch league."

"You were amazing out there!" Harry cheered, his hands gripped beneath Ginny's arms as he effortlessly lifted her into the air. Her long red hair swayed about. Her skin, still damp, glistened and her cheeks glowed red from exertion and excitement. He barely had Ginny aloft before her legs encircled his waist. A moment later her mouth was against his. She relented long enough for him to breath, "the catch…" She attacked his lips again. "Spectacular…" Her laugh silenced him and the hands cupping his cheek held him captive.

Eventually Harry placed her back onto the ground; his eyes never wavering from hers. Her gaze wandered away, hands fidgeting. "I wasn't all that great, Harry." The sound scarcely more than a whisper. "He barely challenged me."

"Which makes it even better." Harry lifted her up into the air again and spun them around. Her laughter once again filled the abandoned corridor. "Just makes me begin to wonder about the final next year." Above him her entire body radiated nothing but joy.

"Not so confident are you, Potter?" She grinned as he settled her back onto firmer ground.

The glint in her eyes made him step closer, pressing his body firmly against hers. Ginny moved back until she bumped into the wall with a soft thud. Their heavy breathing was the only sound outside Gwenog's office, which was the only place they could meet.

"I know you'll be there," he whispered in a low voice. It became increasingly hot in his robes. Ginny tilted her face upwards, lips parted. He eagerly closed the distance with his own. It was softer, more demanding than earlier.

He moved away slightly. "I'm just not so sure how long it's going to take for me to win." Harry began placing kisses along her jaw line. A soft whimper spurred him onwards. His fingers brushed along her neck and into her messy tangled hair.

She gave a low moan, but firm hands against Harry's chest pushed him away. "As much as..." Her cheeks flushed crimson as she panted. "I need to go shower and change. They'll be wondering where I've wandered off to."

"I suppose," he replied while letting his fingers tug at the hem of her jersey. Then he stepped back reluctantly. "I'll see you at the Burrow then." Her face betrayed the same longing. "Ron will be keen to celebrate."

Ginny glanced to the side hesitantly. With a slight a shake of her head she made a decision. "See you there." She pecked his cheek and hurried away before either of them succumbed.

Harry stood alone in the dark corridor for a few more minutes, willing his body to relax. He was not currently in a state in which to arrive at his future in-laws. Taking a last deep breath he disapparated from the stadium.

Ginny arrived at the Burrow feeling like a new woman. The warm shower had done wonders after the hours of flying in the cold early winter's air. The warmth, unfortunately, did not dispel the feel of Harry's hands moving across her exposed skin. It had been the right decision to leave, however. Her teammates had already been suspicious and had asked a few questions about the momentary absence. Thankfully they knew about Harry.

It had proved rather difficult to keep the relationship away from the team. In the end Gwenog had decided to get it out in the open. The other Harpies deserved to know the truth. Ginny had wanted to wait, but Gwenog was right as always, it had been better to tell sooner rather than later. The girls had been silent, the reaction would probably still come.

Ginny opened the door to the kitchen. Loud voices came from the living room. She edged passed the family clock, her hand pointed at home as it always did. Harry's voice carried from beyond the wall. Ron's joined in a moment later. She silently walked out of the kitchen to find Harry talking animatedly with Ron. Arms flailed about and their eyes already appeared slightly glazed; the half empty bottle of firewhiskey on the table the obvious culprit.

She stood still for a moment, watching the two talk. Never in her wildest imaginations had she ever envisioned that a brother of hers would accept and be friends with a man she loved. Her head tilted slightly to the side. They really were becoming friends. With a soft incredulous laugh, she glided further into the room; her parents were nowhere to be seen. "Enjoying yourself, love?" Harry jumped in surprise.

"Yes," he replied a bit louder than usual. "Ron and I were just having the most interesting discussion. He thinks the Kestrels will be giving the Cannons a good run for the top position in the log."

"But they barely won their opening game," Ginny said shaking her head. "The Snitch was their only points."

"Their Chasers need some work, the Beaters are trying their best, but they have a darn good Seeker." Ron said with all the authority of a Quidditch expert, which Ginny grudgingly had to admit he was.

"Ron thinks they'll continue to win games with their Seeker."

"They could if Linnaeus catches the Snitch before they fall 150 points behind." Ginny had to agree with the logic and Linnaeus really was a talented Seeker. "But he is getting a bit old isn't he?"

"He's barely thirty!" Harry roared. "Experience does count. Eight seasons in the toughest league makes for a solid player."

Ginny slipped her arm around Harry's waist. "Worried, old man?"

"Now that's just low," he moaned while trying desperately to hide his mirth. Ginny made no reply, instead she relaxed in his hold, rested her head against Harry's shoulder and listened as they continued to discuss the various teams.

The wonderful moment had to be broken. "There you are, dear," her mother's voice called from the stairs. "We listened to the entire game. Seems you didn't disgrace yourself."

"Much cleaner game this time." Ginny moved across to her mother. "I wish you could've been there," she added.

"I know, but we don't want to go crowd each of your games." Her mother fussed with Ginny's uncombed and tangled hair. "And we knew Harry and Ron were there to look out for you."

"And Gwenog," Ginny mentioned quickly. "And extra security." Her mother nodded slowly before scurrying into the kitchen without a backwards glance. Ginny sniffed and could almost swear she smelt something burning. But that was impossible, her mother never burnt dinner.

"And you did stun the last remaining Death Eater," Harry said proudly from beside her." He kissed the top of her head. "Something I'll be eternally grateful for."

She hugged him, dinner all but forgotten. "Well he was trying to hurt you."

"Bad idea?" Harry asked.

She narrowed her eyes. "No one ever messes with my Harry." Even standing on tiptoes she still had to pull Harry down towards her. The effort proved rewarding.

"Now that is not what a decent bloke like me needs to see!" Ron grumbled loudly.

"So I can't kiss you in front of them?" Hermione sounded genuinely hurt. Ginny turned to face her friend, who'd just arrived, only to notice the glint in the other woman's eyes.

"Well, yes... um... no..." Ron grew bright red. "What was the question again?"

Hermione moved across towards her boyfriend and snogged him scandalously. Ginny's eyes bulged and stomach twisted. "Hermi…" The words were smothered by Harry. She tried complaining, but he did not relent. In the end Ginny turned the groan into a soft moan.

Harry woke early the following morning. His head felt the slight effect of the Firewhiskeys he and Ron had consumed. Ginny would need to be thanked for limiting Ron, who could absorb drinks almost as well as food while expecting others to keep up. Then there was Kreacher who needed to be thanked as the little elf had prepared a concoction, though he seemed a bit out of practise since he'd not made one since Sirius' death.

After a quick shower, Harry dressed in some Cannon's kit and Apparated to the stadium. Harry grimaced at the voice of the team captain. Not that he disliked Oliver, but it was too early in the morning for the man's personal brand of enthusiasm.

He was a youngish man a few years out of Hogwarts where he'd been the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. He was not the most talented player, but Oliver Wood made up for it with pure passion for the game. The obsessive passion is what earned him the Captaincy. Contrary to what many people believed, those four championships had a lot to do with Oliver being at the helm.

"Morning, Harry!" Oliver came rushing over to Harry. "You ready for a hard day on the broom?"

Harry glared at his captain, wandering if the man knew the meaning of a light session the day before a game. "I'm always giving my best, Oliver." His tone was flat as he turned to remove his kit from the locker.

A firm hand landed on Harry's shoulder. "Yes, but all this talk about a girl, Harry..."

Harry's grip tightened around the locker. "What about her?"

"Well... we're not sure if a woman is in the best interest for your playing ability."

Harry spun round, using his few extra inches to tower over the Cannons captain. "And since when have you gained the authority to tell me what is in my best interest?"

Oliver did not back down. "I have the team's best interest at heart." Wood might be a pain at times, but no one could ever doubt his loyalty to the team. Most would argue that his wife came a distant second, but Harry knew Oliver loved her more than anything.

Harry dropped his head slightly. "I'll talk to the team before practise and sort this out."

Wood clapped Harry on the shoulder. "Thanks."

The changing room filled slowly as the team began to file in. Mark Greyton the new Chaser arrived after Harry. The young blond man was a couple of years older than Harry. His charming smile and blue eyes drew young women by the droves and he'd only played a single game.

He was followed by Patrick Edgecombe, a muscular Beater, who was married and a father of two. In a way he was the team father and was gentle in person in contrast to his fierceness on the pitch.

Jonathan Markam, a Chaser, swaggered into the room as Harry pulled on his jersey. His long brown hair hung well passed his shoulders. The man always had a new witch hanging onto him.

Grant Thompson, the other beater, and Michael Spinnet the last Chaser strode into the room, both laughing at a joke or something.

Harry sat alone on a bench in the corner while the players laughed and joked as they changed. Oliver cleared his throat and the group fell silent after a few laughs and sniggers. "Right, listen up men, Harry has some things to tell you."

With a strange calm, Harry stood. The entire team looked expectantly up at him. "Since last night news has spread that I have a girlfriend." The other team members nodded. "And it appears that some of you have some concerns about some girl messing with my playing ability." Their heads moved a bit more overtly, but still hesitantly. "Well I'm not going to dump her."

"What!" Oliver shouted. "But I thought..."

"We're engaged to be married," Harry said in a low voice that commanded respect.

"Some power hungry scarlet woman that is just after your fame and fortune." Oliver grumbled loudly. "Precisely why you need to dump the girl, Harry."

"Don't you dare say that about her!" Harry shouted; power began to radiate off him. The team leaned back, only Greyton's eyes went wide with wonder, the rest had felt it from him before.

Patrick stood and pushed Oliver farther away from Harry. "Easy now, captain," the older man said softly. Oliver did not attempt to struggle against the broad shouldered Beater. "As long as she makes you happy, Harry, then I'm fine with this whole thing." He laughed. "But we're family, we've all shared secrets over a pint or two." He gestured at the whole team. "We have your best interest at heart." Patrick glanced at Wood; the captain nodded reluctantly. "I might not agree with his tone, but Oliver is only worried about this woman using you."

Harry felt his anger recede. The power surging through his body decreased until it vanished to nothing more than the familiar hum within. "Sorry, Oliver," Harry managed to say. "But don't you dare speak about her in that way again."

Oliver nodded his head jerkily. "It would help if we knew the girl."

Ginny had told her team, it was only right that he should tell his. "Ok, we're obviously still keeping this out of the public eye. You heard what I said to the reporter over the wireless." Harry scratched at the stubble on his cheek. "Neither of us need the media distracting us at the moment."

"You make her sound like some celebrity." Grant was the one to laugh this time.

Harry took a deep breath; this shouldn't be hard to say. "Her name is Ginny Weasley, and she's the Harpies' new Seeker."

"You're sleeping with one of them!" Oliver shouted. Patrick held out an arm and caught a kicking and flailing captain. "What's she getting out of you?"

Harry rolled his eyes at the struggling form of Wood. "We do know how to keep team secrets from each other Wood." Oliver stopped fighting and Patrick let him go.

He then clapped Harry on the shoulder. "Pretty girl, Weasley. So how'd you meet?"

"Over the summer break, we sort of bumped into each other and you know, spent time together and here we are."

"Explains that daft heroic saving her life and she yours last month." It was Jonathan who spoke this time. He was looking in the mirror, busy combing his hair as if he did not realise that they were about to go flying. "It really had me doubting your sanity."

Coach McGill, who had arrived a few minutes earlier, cleared his throat. "That's enough chatting you bunch of pansies." He seemed amused as he glanced across at Jonathan. "Let's get out on the pitch and run a few basic drills before the weekend's game. The Tornadoes should be an easy game, but let's not take any chances."

The group agreed. Despite their differences, each man was loyal and hard working. Even Jonathan allowed his hair to be blown about a bit in order to win a game.

Harry arrived at his flat after a short day's flying to find Ginny lying lazily on the couch reading the Witch Weekly. "You're back early," she said with a yawn.

"Shouldn't you be at home?" Harry asked. "Not that I mind."

She dropped the magazine, which had hit the shelves this morning while he practised. Harry glanced at the cover to see a familiar tint of red. He picked it up before sitting. He gave Ginny a quick hello kiss.

"Nice photo," he commented. "So, Miss Weasley, how does it feel to be famous?"

"The same." She shrugged and began to snuggle up against him.

He grinned. "Wait 'til you go to Diagon Alley. They'll swarm all over you."

She sighed knowingly. "At least I can hide here with you." She smiled. "So how was practise? You don't seem worn out."

"No." Harry agreed. "Just a few light drills. The kind of things to keep your mind and body active before a game."

"Yeah, Gwenog does much the same." He leaned back against the backrest allowing Ginny to rest her head on his lap.

"I told the team about you today." The words were barely a whisper.

"And?" she asked. Her body tensed beneath him slightly.

"They took it well apart from Wood. But he'll get his stubborn head around it at some point."

"Or his wife will." Ginny grinned. "You think we should invite them over for dinner?"

Harry sat up. "You know, that might actually help."

"It's settled. How about the day after the match?"

"I'll owl him," Harry agreed. He kissed her forehead then stood to write a letter.

"Take a shower after you're done," Ginny called out. "You stink Potter."

"Yes, dear." Harry chuckled as he disappeared into the bedroom.

He came back a few minutes later, hair damp, wearing shorts and a t-shirt.

"Ginny," Harry began. The slightly nervous tone in his voice made her sit up. He sat on the edge of the table before the couch. "I've been thinking."

"Never good," Ginny smiled.

He grinned. "I want to set a date."

"You do?" she said excitedly. "I've got a few ideas."

"Great." Harry relaxed visibly. "I was worried that you would want to wait until after the season to start planning."

"I'd never be able to wait that long." She patted the seat next to her and Harry moved across to join her on the couch. When he sat down she twisted around and laid her head on his lap.

"I was thinking either over the short Christmas break or just after the final." Harry began to speak as his hands worked through her long hair. The slow movements were soothing.

"Christmas?" she repeated to herself. It would be nice. "Too soon. Mum and I would never be able to get everything done in two months."

"I thought so." Harry let out a sigh. "We could try getting married during the season. Would you be able to manage it in January?"

It was Ginny's turn to let out a deep breath. "Maybe, but we'll be so busy I'd never be able to enjoy the day and the honeymoon would be a rush."

"True, I get quite tense as the season progresses."

"The final is on the first of March," Ginny whispered. "We could get married the next weekend."

"The eighth of March," Harry said the date to himself. "I can work with that."

"It's settled." Harry leaned down to kiss her. "The eighth it is."

Ginny arrived home later that evening, her arms laden with bridal magazines. "Mum!"

Her mother entered a moment later. "Have a nice time at Harry's?"

Ginny nodded enthusiastically. "We decided on a date!"

"Really?" Her mother's face lit up with joy. Then her eyes widened in anticipation at the sight of all the magazines. "When?"

"The eighth of March. The weekend after the final. It will give us time to prepare and leave Harry and me with a good break before the next season starts."

"Yes," her mother agreed. "Sounds about the best time."

"We considered the Christmas break," Ginny continued.

"Too soon," her mother said quickly as she began to look through Ginny's pile. "We'd never finish your dress in time."

"Not if we use magic," Ginny teased.

Her mother looked up sharply. "No daughter of mine will ever get married in a dress made from magic. It's a process, something made delicately by hand the long way."

It was hard to disagree. Something you worked on hard is something you valued so much more. She only had to think of all the hours spent training.

"So when are we going shopping?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

Ginny grinned and retrieved a piece of parchment from her pocket. "Second month's pay and a bonus for two Snitches caught."

Her mother's eyes goggled at the number on the parchment. "Um..." her mother coughed, "Is that three zeros?"

"Three thousand Galleons." Ginny smiled ever wider even though she felt guilty. Two games into the season and she had already earned twice her father's yearly income. A thousand for each game played and a five hundred Galleon bonus for catching the Snitch. "The points scored for catching a Snitch is very valuable to the team. Harry mentioned something about media rights and Galleons per point." She scratched the side of her face. "And senior players earn more per point in bonuses."

"Wonder what Harry earns?" Her mother thought aloud. "If you're making so much already."

Ginny shrugged. "Perhaps I could ask him." She actually already had a rough idea from some comments he'd made. At the moment she figured it to be three to four times her earnings.

"He'll tell you if he wants, dear."

Ginny shrugged, it mattered little. They were earning enough between them and neither had even begun to tap into personal sponsorships. She was considering it, but doubted that Harry ever would.

"We just need..."

The door burst open. "I'm getting married!" Ron bellowed as he stormed into the kitchen with frantic wide eyes. "I... I just walked into the jeweler bought a ring and... I asked her!"

"Hermione said yes?" Her mother went into shock; probably more from Hermione agreeing rather than Ron's proposal.

"Yeah," Ron scrunched his nose. "I think she said yes. Wait... um... she took the ring... kissed me... and placed it on her finger... um..."

Ginny jumped to her feet and hugged her brother. "That's a yes, you prat."

"Oh... good," Ron collapsed into a chair. "I'm just an Auror in training. I don't have the money to support a wife. What if she wants kids? We'll never be able to afford the wedding!" A hand ran roughly though his hair. "A house, what about a house!"

"She works in the law department, Ron!" Ginny laughed out loud. "And you'll be a full Auror by next year. You've only got, what, two months training left. You'll be fine."

Ginny turned at a noise from the door. Hermione entered the kitchen tentatively. There was only one thing for Ginny to do, she embraced her new sister. After letting go, Ginny noticed her mother trying to comfort Ron. She frowned, or was he trying to help her? Ginny couldn't be sure.

"Is he alright?" Hermione asked. "He just sort of ran for the hills."

"A bit of a shock," Ginny nodded. "I think it all made him freak out a bit."

"We could wait, but..." Hermione seemed unsure of what to say.

"You really want to marry the idiot." Ginny finished for her.

Hermione nodded slowly. "I do love him."

Ginny could only smile, the pair really was hopeless. "Relax, he wants this. He only freaked out about kids, money, weddings and houses."

Hermione crossed her arms and huffed, but her eyes were moist. "He does tend to overreact at times."

Mrs. Weasley stood and came across to them. "Welcome to the family, Hermione." A tear slipped down Hermione's cheek and she hugged her future mother-in-law.

After evicting Ron and her father the three women seated themselves in the living room. They discussed nothing but venues, flowers, colours, dresses and only they knew what else.

Harry arrived at the Burrow. He had planned on having dinner with his new family as he still had not had much chance to really talk to them. The last thing he expected was to find Ron and Arthur sitting outside the house drinking Butterbeer as if they had been thrown out.

"Harry," Arthur stood to great him. "So pleased you made it."

Harry eyed the two men and before noticing the wild discussion going on inside he made to enter. "Best not go in there, son," Arthur said with all the wisdom of a man who'd been married for years.

"Why?" Harry questioned. "I'd just like to say hello to Ginny."

"Wedding planning, mate," Ron said. "Those three are on a roll. We'll be bankrupt within the week." The last part came out as a groan. "I mean, we both just started working and..." Ron dropped his head into his hands. The Butterbeer discarded next to him.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "He proposed to Hermione this afternoon," Mr. Weasley explained. "He's still adjusting to the idea."

"I guess us setting a date didn't help," Harry laughed.

"I'll never be able to give her the wedding she deserves," Ron mumbled from behind his hands.

Harry sat down on the dusty wooden porch and retrieved a bottle of Butterbeer. The two men had been wise enough to bring a small stash with them to the porch.

"I'd be glad to help out." Harry began slowly. "If you need a place to stay, I have a few nice homes near the Ministry that you're welcome to stay in. I know both of you are still staying at home. And if you need some..." Harry coughed, people usually took his offers of help badly, but he had managed to save a lot over the past four years, not to mention half the Black fortune and some money from his parents. The Black and Potter seats on the Wizengamot also provided a sizeable income. "You know, a loan of sorts."

Ron straightened. "You'd really help me out... I mean I'll repay everything... it's just..." The lanky red head took a deep breath. "Thanks, Harry. I'll see what I can do, but it helps knowing you're there."

Arthur patted Harry on the back softly. Harry could see the gratitude in the man's expression. There were also tired lines of a man who'd already given everything for his children and had nothing left except love. But still he would insist on giving more.

Harry leaned closer to his future father-in-law. "Let someone help you this once."

Mr. Weasley's hand tightened around Harry's shoulder. "Thanks, Harry. That means... a lot."

All three took a swig of Butterbeer together and sat listening to the excited voices coming from inside. A loud squeal came from Hermione and was met by three identical flinches from the men. "There goes another hundred Galleons, Ron." Harry laughed, but Ginny's voice rose higher shortly afterwards.

Ron chuckled nervously into his Butterbeer. "Doubt it, mate. More like two hundred from yours."

Before Harry could respond the back door opened abruptly and Hermione stepped out. "How's the twenty-third of December?" she asked quickly.

"Um..." Ron frowned. "Good."

"Excellent!" The door slammed closed again and Hermione hurried across to join the other two.

"What did I just agree to?" Ron asked.

"You're getting married in about two months, Ron." Harry could only laugh at the rapidly paling Ron.

"She'll be the death of me."

Harry did the right thing and handed him another Butterbeer.

"Hermione," Ginny called her friend. Harry had gone home and Ron was still sitting outside with her father.

"Yes." Hermione replied with a real shine to her eyes. Each step Hermione took held a bounce and her voice hinted at a note of pure joy. Surprisingly, even more than when she talked about the latest book she'd been reading.

"Why are you getting married so soon?" Ginny shrugged. "Mum has me waiting forever to work on my dress." Not that she actually wanted to do it any other way.

"Well, we've known each other since we were eleven." Hermione sat down beside Ginny. "And I've already told you that I am going to wear my mother's dress. She made it herself and it only requires a few changes to suit my style."

Ginny sat up straighter. "I never considered doing that." Her eyes glazed over in thought. "But I've already got my dress in mind and it looks nothing like mum's."

"Really?" Hermione said enthusiastically. Then she looked at her hands, trying to hide a blush. "Sorry, Ginny. This was supposed to be your night with your parents and Harry. Because of me you didn't even see him."

"I've got two more months than you to plan my wedding," Ginny replied, not feeling the least bit hurt by her friend's actions. "Just be sure that you don't plan the whole wedding before you've spoken to your own mother."

Hermione went ashen and her hand covered her mouth. "You're right!" she shrieked.

"Relax," Ginny soothed. "Tomorrow evening will be your mother's turn. We just got a bit carried away tonight."

The pair glanced down at the pile of Witch Bridal magazines lying on the counter and began to laugh. "Those were yours," Hermione spoke slowly. "Sorry!"

"Most of the things aren't my taste, Hermione. So I'm glad you managed to get some ideas out of them."

"You got nothing?" Her friend asked with a frown.

Ginny flipped one of them open to a marked page. "What do you think of lilies?"

The radio crackled. "The game ends!" the excited voice of Bobby shouted. "Potter sweeps down to take a comfortable catch. The poor Tutshill Tornadoes' Seeker was left scratching the back of his neck while Potter expertly took the most effortless of catches."

"The man really has panache, Bobby. I've never seen a Seeker take a game so easily."

"Reminds me of Weasley and her game a few nights ago. The girl's got the same class even if a bit less refined."

"Bobby! Now you're just getting me excited. If going on current form it really does seem likely that we might be seeing a Harpies Cannons final."

"Indeed, both teams look in great shape, but don't forget about the Arrows and Kestrels, who might not be playing the best Quidditch, but they're winning games." Bobby grew silent. "I'm sorry listeners, but it seems that our time is running out. Peter, would you like to give a quick summary of the last few games."

"The Kenmare Kestrels were struggling again in the second round. If it wasn't for another good steal by their Seeker they would've lost badly to Puddlemere United. The game ended on 160-150. In a somewhat similar game, the Wimbourne Wasps' only points of the game came from the hands of their Seeker. Pride of Portree was leading by a hundred when the game ended after a close duel between the two Seekers. Portree would be disappointed to walk away with nothing. The final score was 150-100. And of course the last game tonight saw the Cannons beat the Tutshill Tornadoes 160-250. Not the Cannons cleanest game, but they did the job and take home maximum points.

"The Group B log is currently led by the Kestrels on six points. The Cannons trail by one due to not catching the Snitch in the opening game. Third is currently occupied by the Wasps on four. United currently lie fourth on three. Last place, both on zero, is jointly shared by Portree and the Tornadoes."

"Thank you, Peter. Some good games coming in November. While Group A seems to be dominated by the Arrows and Harpies, Group B is in for a much closer fight for the top two places.

The evening after the Cannons game saw Harry and Ginny scurrying around his flat making sure everything was in place for dinner.

"What time are they coming?" Harry called out from where he stood aligning cushions on the couch.

"Six, Harry." A frustrated voice called back. "You invited them."

He shook his head then nudged the cushion again. It finally seemed to be in right place. Ginny emerged from the room, a towel wrapped around her body. "Got everything in place?"

Harry nodded. "The table is set. The house is clean and…" He pointed proudly at the couch. "The cushions are in order."

She seemed satisfied and was about to go get dressed. "Ginny," Harry said suddenly, making her stop. "I was wondering about a gift for Ron and Hermione."

She stared at him and waited patiently for him to continue. His weight shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. Ginny remained calm, letting him grind through his own problems.

"I want to give them a house." He blurted the words out so quickly she blinked.

"Say that again. You spoke even faster than Hermione."

He tried to relax and forced the words out slowly. "I want us to give them a house."

"A house?" she questioned to make sure. "As in a building with a lawn and rooms… really?"

He felt extremely awkward. "I... they need one and neither can afford something. I... well we have a few properties." Ginny raised an eyebrow. She'd never considered that he lived here because he wanted to. "I'd like them to choose one."

Ginny thought for a while. "Ron can be a prat about gifts." She crossed the room and enveloped him in a hug. "But I have a feeling he'd appreciate this one." She let go and stared up at him. "So why are you still living in such a small place then?"

"Less empty space, less ghosts." He answered truthfully and his eyes dropped to the floor. "I tried living in a house, but when you're alone it... well it's not really nice."

"So do I get to choose a house?" Ginny wrapped her arms around his neck and stared lovingly up into his eyes.

"You can have any house you want." Harry smiled. "But I think I might know a place you would love."

"So the Cannons pay you well." Her lips lingered an inch away from his. "Seeing that you can spoil me rotten."

He shrugged, gave a wry grin, and kissed her. "I guess you could say they do." He fell silent and faced the photographs by the fireplace. He noticed her frown. "Ok, they pay me really well. It's just..." Harry moved across to the couch and they sat down. "I've also inherited some money."

"So you've got some spare Galleons," Ginny shrugged. "Nice for a rainy day."

He laughed and then grew serious again. "I fly for fun, nothing more." Ginny tilted her head to the side curiously. "I'll need to take you down to Gringotts at some point," Harry said a while later. "You should probably know what I'm talking about."

"So I get to have an outrageously expensive wedding and chose a colossal house?" Ginny hopped up and down eagerly.

"As long as you choose one with a nice big garden for us and our kids to fly around in." He kissed the top of her head. Then laughed at her previous statement. "And we both know you won't do either."

"Prat." She laughed hitting his arm playfully. Harry rubbed at the spot where her fist had landed. "A house, our house, where we can raise a family." She jumped up

excitedly, then stopped abruptly to give him a pointed stare. "Just give the family a few more years"

Harry stood and watched her leave, then frowned, the cushions needed another nudge.

Oliver and his wife arrived promptly at six. Harry, expecting the prompt arrival, waited by the front door. He only wondered what was keeping Ginny. She'd been missing since disappearing into the room.

"Come in," Harry greeted as he opened the door wide. "Nice to see you again, Alicia." She was the sister of the Cannons Chaser, Mitchum Spinnet, and she'd flown with Oliver on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. How she managed to get along with Oliver remained a mystery.

They were slightly over dressed, but Oliver always managed to take things to the extreme. Being prepared for this, Harry had dressed similarly.

"And you too, Harry." She kissed his cheek and entered.

"Evening, Harry," Oliver greeted with a stiff shake of his hand. The brief eye contact told Harry that something bothered his teammate. The Captain's hand dropped to clasp the other behind his back.

"Oliver," Harry said with a forced smile. The man entered, eyes searching.

"So where is your lovely bride to be?"

"Coming," Ginny called from the room. She took Harry's breath away the moment she stepped into the living room. She wore a simple black dress, which she'd bought earlier in the day, but not shown him. It was not as stylish as the dress she wore to the opening function, but this one was Ginny. The long heals had also been replaced by something a bit more flat. Her long, slightly wavy, red hair bounced as she walked. She came to stand next to Harry, allowing him to slip an arm around her waist.

"Ginny!" Alicia squeaked loudly. "I was so excited when Oliver told me Harry was dating you!" She immediately hugged her.

Harry stared at the two in shock. Ginny slapped Harry's shoulder playfully. "You should've told me about Alicia."

Harry cleared his throat. "I never thought there was anything to say."

Alicia glared at her husband. "What?" He let out a groan. "I sort of forgot to mention the fact to Harry."

She snorted. "Forgot, more like you didn't want Harry to be distracted by a girl." She laughed. "Oliver, my little hypocrite." Her eyes shone with amusement as she stared at

her husband. "I can't remember you complaining about the late nights when we started dating."

Harry let out a long laugh at Oliver's red face. "Well, Oliver, Alicia, this is Ginny." The introduction helped ease Oliver's embarrassment and two women took the opportunity to move to the couch where they started talking like old friends.

"So you really know each other?" Harry asked, scratching his chin.

"Of course," Alicia laughed. "Her two brothers were on the Gryffindor team with me and Oliver. Fred and George were Beaters and of course, Ginny had always been there."

"I even played with you in your seventh," Ginny mentioned.

"Such a small world," Harry grinned as he shook his head. He turned to Wood who studied Ginny. "So how are things with you and Alicia?" Harry asked.

Oliver nodded. "Good, we're trying for a baby, but..." His voice dropped slightly, "Not going so well at the moment."

They walked together to the kitchen and Harry removed some Butterbeers for them. "Stressful?"

They sat down on the bar chairs away from where Ginny and Alicia were discussing their time at Hogwarts loudly. "A bit," Oliver nodded. "Look, I'd just like to apologise. I had the wrong of Ginny. Alicia tells me that she had a rough time at Hogwarts and that she has a good heart. Apparently Quidditch has been her only refuge." He sighed and stretched out a hand to Harry. "Sorry for being my normal fool self."

They shook hands. "I understand and thanks for trying to look out for me, but I can look after myself." Wood nodded stiffly. Harry let his Butterbeer linger on his lips for longer than necessary. He studied the man across from him, looking for any signs of deceit. There were none. Wood may be loud, but he never lied. "I appreciate that."

"So how long have you two been trying?" Harry asked sensing the man needed to talk. "If... that is if you don't mind... you know talking."

The Cannon's captain drank slowly. He was unusually quiet. "Since last year, actually. We had hoped for a birth during the summer break." He shook his head. "Didn't quite work."

"Perhaps this year. The time is right now." Harry tried to cheer his teammate up.

He could not remember having ever seen Oliver look so tired. "I think that is why I snapped about Ginny." Wood lifted his bottle in Ginny's direction. "I love Alicia, she's everything, but I'm tired, Harry. And the season just adds to all my worries."

"Take another day off before coming back to practise." Harry suggested. "We still have three weeks before the next game."

"I might take you up on that offer, Harry."

"Do," Harry urged. "You've won four consecutive championships. No one will think less of you for taking a day or two to recuperate."

"Two," Oliver said thoughtfully. "Yes, I might take two." The idea brought some life back to Wood. "Thanks, Harry."

"Don't mention it. We've been through enough together to know when the other needs some time away."

Oliver did not move. "You look good, Harry." He said finally. "I think I've hit a low and you're soaring."

Harry snorted. "I've had my fair share of problems."

Wood nodded. He was one of few people who knew that Harry had fought in the war. Not the full extent, but he knew about the scars, inside and out.

"Shall we go join our wonderful ladies?" Oliver asked. Some light was returning to his friends eyes.

Harry smiled. "Lead the way."

Ginny lay in Harry's arms on the couch. Oliver and his wife had left after a pleasant evening. It had taken almost an entire meal before Oliver began to really join in the conversation, but when he did he seemed a new man.

"Do you think we should tell?" Harry asked Ginny pulling her thoughts away from their guests.

Ginny sat up. "You mean the press?"

He nodded slowly. "It might make things easier."

She didn't know what to think. "It would make life easier," she agreed after a while. "And I'd love to wear my ring publicly."

"Perhaps after my next game." He shifted around uncomfortably. "But we don't have to." He added quickly. "It's just a thought."

Ginny lay back down again. "It would make buying things for the wedding a bit easier. I wouldn't need to rely on Hermione and other people to buy everything."

"So you want the world to know?" Harry questioned.

She remained still for a few minutes. "I think so, yes."

"Alright." He let out a long breath. "After my game I'll tell the press."

"Sure?" she asked. "We don't if you don't want to."

"No." He shook his head adamantly. "No, I want to tell."

"Just difficult," she said softly in agreement.

"A bit."

"We don't have to," she said after a minute's silence. "I kind of like not being in the public eye."

"Yeah," he agreed. "And you're making a name for yourself." She opened her eyes to find him looking uncomfortable. "You know, not just as Potter's girl."

"You think they'd label me as that?"

"Maybe," Harry shrugged.

"So we should say nothing?" Ginny asked.

"If you don't want to," Harry said.

"Maybe I don't want to." She whispered up into the air. "Merlin, Harry." She sighed. "I don't know." She sat up, forcing his hands away from her hair. "I want people to know about us, but..."

"It's not the right time." Harry stated the words she wanted to say.

"Perhaps." Her body collapsed and her head settled on his lap again.

"Perhaps." Harry repeated her words absently. "Maybe we should wait until after the wedding."

"Press release after the wedding?" Ginny asked. She kind of liked the idea.

"That gives the press a few months to get used to us before the next season starts again. We would have time to ourselves without the demands of our teams."

"I think I'm starting to like the idea of keeping this to ourselves for now."

He leaned down and she raised her head. Their lips met tenderly. "So we go ahead as is."

"And if the press finds out?" Ginny asked.

"Then we laugh, smile, and try to keep them as far away from us as possible." Harry smiled broadly. "I've got some experience in that department, but it does tend to complicate life a bit."

"A bit!" Ginny snorted.

"Only a little." Harry joked back.

"We're here for a surprise press release by the Cannons," Bobby's usual voice crackled excitedly over the wireless. "And I'm telling you we are as unsure of what this could be about as you."

"Wait... here comes Oliver Wood, Coach McGill and Harry Potter. This could be very interesting."

"Thank you for coming." Coach McGill's amplified voice sounded ruff over the speaker. "Captain Oliver Wood would like to make an announcement."

"Thank you for being here." Oliver sounded slightly nervous. The static did not help.

"This might come as a surprise for most people and most especially those witches and wizards who have been supporting me over the years." There was some silence and the faint sound of camera bulbs flashing. "As of this morning I have resigned as Captain of the Chudley Cannons and will be replaced as Captain by Harry Potter."

"Mr Wood," Bobby called out loudly. "Have you signed with another team?"

"No. I am retiring from the sport." Oliver said in a slightly emotional voice. "Harry will be a good replacement for me. He's a good leader and he's been with the team for almost as long as myself."

"Four straight seasons, why now?"

"I need to spend some time with my wife and our relatives. The pressures of the game have been immense, but rewarding. After four years at the lead of an amazing group of men and women, I've decided that I've achieved what I set out to achieve..." There was a short moment's silence. "Thank you."

"Wood has just left the press room." Bobby's voice was soft over the wireless.

Coach McGill spoke next. "I am here to introduce the Cannon's new Captain, Harry Potter."

"Hi," Harry voice sounded slightly nervous. "Firstly, I would like to thank Oliver for the support he has not only given me, but the team as a whole. I don't think the game will ever see a man more dedicated to the sport as him. The sport, not only the Cannons, has lost a great man..."

"That went well," Ginny said as Harry arrived back at the flat.

"I sounded like... I don't know," he sighed and dropped down onto the couch. "Flying is like breathing, but speaking to a room full of reporters is tough."

She climbed onto the couch and tucked her feet beneath her. "It sounded perfectly normal, Harry. You'll do fine as Captain."

"I hope so." He did not look convinced. "So what are you doing today?"

"Trying to change the subject are we Harry?"

"Do you blame me?" he replied.

"No." Her head shook slightly. "I was planning to do some wedding shopping with my mum."

"That's good." He looked better now that he was not talking about the Cannons. "You can get some things organised before practise restarts tomorrow."

"The next few weeks will be busy. The Falcons did well in the previous game and Gwenog is determined to get the Harpies' name back on the trophy."

Harry laughed. "I'm sure she is. She might love me, but that trophy is a very close second." Ginny snuggled up closer to him. "Will I be seeing you again today?"

"Maybe," she shrugged. "Not sure how long things will take. But I wouldn't count on it being quick."

"How long before you have to go?"

"About an hour. I told my mum I'd meet her after lunch."

Harry grinned and placed a gentle hand beneath her chin, lifting her face; the kiss was soft.

Ginny, Hermione and their mothers had spent the first few hours of the afternoon going through various items on a very long list of things to buy. Hermione's items being the most urgent. It was the end of October and her wedding was planned for December.

Being famous had its draw backs. The full force of it became known during the long hours in the store and there after. Witches and wizards were constantly trying to find out what Ginny was up to. The trip worked well, however, as Hermione's presence allowed Ginny to select material for her dress.

"Miss Weasley!" A reporter shouted. She had to blink to clear her vision from the bulb that flashed a few feet from her eyes. "What are you doing in Diagon Alley?"

"Helping me shop for my wedding," Hermione said loudly drawing the attention of the reporter.

"And who..."

"Ginny is my future sister-in-law and we would like to get on with our shopping if you don't mind."

The reporters face fell. He had probably been hoping for something more exciting than her brother's wedding. He rallied quickly and began firing off a hoard of questions.

"What did you think of Potter's catch? Do you think you can beat him?"

Ginny stopped walking at the question. "He is a good flyer, and the catch against Tornadoes was good. But I have learned from the best and intend to put that to good use."

"Some might argue that Jones is not such a good coach and that her time at the Harpies might be coming to an end."

"Coach Jones is more than good enough. Each season has been plagued by injuries and factors beyond our control."

"Such as Potter?" The man questioned as the quill scratched quickly beside him on a floating piece of parchment.

"Among others, yes," Ginny agreed. "He has been an unstoppable force as of late, but I believe he can be beaten."

The man began to speak. Ginny raised a hand. "I'm sorry, but that is all I have time for today."

Hermione tugged at Ginny's sleeve, forcing her away. "Thanks," Ginny muttered. "The guy had me cornered after the Harry question."

"I noticed." Hermione kept speeding away and soon had them settled at a nice secluded table in the Windswept Broom.

"I can do with a nice cold drink now," Mrs Weasley said in a tired voice. "So many choices... I'm exhausted."

"Worth every minute just to see those two smile like that," Hermione's mother said.

Hermione beamed at her mother and Ginny tried not to blush too much. "It was wonderful, wasn't it?" She rummaged in one of the shrunken bags beside her. The feel of raw silk inside made her giddy. "I can't wait to start working on this."

"Let's see the lace you bought, dear," her mother asked. "I never got a good enough look in the shop. That foolish witch was hanging around you all the time."

Hermione lifted her wand and placed a few silencing and notice me not charms after the waiter left with their orders. Ginny dug her hand carefully into another bag. She pushed aside the thread, net for her veil and a few other things until she touched the tissue paper

wrapped lace. With care she took it out. Her mother instantly cleaned the table thoroughly with a few swipes of her wand.

"I wish I could do that," Hermione's mother said with a regretful sigh. "I'm stuck with cleaning agents and a rag."

"Magic does have its advantages," Hermione said with a smile.

Ginny, pleased that the table was clean, carefully placed the package on the table and unfolded it. Intricate patterns of flowers wove themselves along the length of the fabric. "Each cluster of flowers will need to be cut and stitched by hand," her mother spoke as her fingers worked along the outlines.

"I'm thinking of covering nearly the entire dress," Ginny said eagerly. Her mother paled. "What?"

"We are doing this by hand, Ginny." Her mother's voice went high.

"So?" Ginny shrugged while imagining the dress.

"You are planning on getting married this coming March and play Quidditch and make the dress yourself."

"Yes," Ginny said happily.

"Molly," Hermione's mother laughed. "I don't think she quite gets how much work it takes to stitch so much lace by hand."

"I should've realised what she was thinking when she took all the lace there was." Her mother never let her eyes wonder from the material before her. "Lace covered silk. It'll be gorgeous, Ginny."

"I just need to start working on it then."

"Oh, I can't wait to sit and work on this with you," Mrs Weasley clapped happily, finally she let her eyes lift to Ginny. "My mother and I had a wonderful time before my wedding. The evenings we spent talking and laughing about everything and nothing."

Hermione's mother nodded. "My mother and I did much the same, but," she sighed. "We never made a dress. I just bought mine from a store." Her eyes grew slightly moist. "I wish we had made one together."

Hermione leaned across the table and squeezed her mother's hand. "But we'll have fun altering my dress mum."

"I know, dear," her mother choked. "Oh this is all just so wonderful."

The four women spent the rest of the afternoon in the restaurant. They only left when people began to pour in for dinner.

Ginny sent her things home with her mother and Apparated to Harry's flat. She'd promised him she'd come round to talk to him. Both would start with training again the next day and with Ginny starting to work on her dress she'd not have much time to see him.

"Harry," she called. There was no reply and he was not on the couch so she walked into the bedroom

Her breath caught. He lay asleep, but his body moved about. His skin was covered in a thin layer of perspiration and he mumbled something.

She crept closer. His entire body looked to be contorted in pain. "Harry," she called out softly. He kept moving about. Sitting down on the side of the bed she let her hand stroke his hair. His movements stilled and his face began to relax. Soon he was sleeping peacefully.

Ginny removed her coat and shoes then slipped beneath the covers beside him. She'd just have to go home early tomorrow morning to get her stuff and she'd have to explain to her mother why she'd not come home. She could, however, not leave Harry alone with his nightmares. They'd become increasingly worse since his memories from the Chamber had been freed.

Ginny, dressed in a thick cloak, arrived at the Burrow after a long and icy practise session at the Harpies stadium. The weather had grown increasingly cold as November flew by. Warming charms and the Harpies thick winter's kit had failed to keep her warm during the past few hours.

"Hi, Mum," Ginny greeted in a quivering voice after entering the house by the kitchen. The heat coming from the bubbling beginnings of dinner only made the cold of earlier even more chilling.

Her mother turned away from the stove after dropping a pinch of salt into the pot. "Ginny! You're frozen solid."

"I'm fine." Chattering teeth probably gave her away. Clumsily she removed pale hands from the gloves exposing fingers too stiff to bend. "I might need a hot bath before we start working on the dress." She raised a hand into the air and tried to wiggle the fingers. They barely moved. "See."

Her mother sighed. "Merlin knows how you people catch a Snitch in this weather." Her head shook slightly in amusement. "You better hurry," she said before turning back to her cooking. "Harry's game is starting in half an hour."

"Already!" Ginny shouted in surprise. "I thought it was still an h..." The sentence halted mid-word as she hurried out of the room to prepare a bath. It was Harry's first game as Captain and she was not going to miss listening to it. Though she wished she could actually have gone to the game, but Harry probably turned a few too many heads already by going to the two Harpies games earlier in the season.

A few minutes later she relaxed into a steaming bath. Slowly each part of her body began to thaw and eventually the human side of Ginny returned. When it finally felt as if her entire body had been heated she jumped out and got dressed before the cold air could attack her body once again. Ginny managed to be ready and downstairs on the couch as Ron turned on the radio to begin listening. At first there was only static, but after a few minutes the horrible sound morphed into the familiar and thoroughly annoying voices of Bobby and Peter.

"Welcome listeners. Sorry for the delay, but the unnatural cold here has been giving our equipment a solid battering. We had runes all over the place. However, you will be pleased to know that you've not missed anything as the Cannons have just flown out onto the field.

"Indeed they haven't, Peter. I'm sure our listeners can hear the loud boos from the Portree supporters. Let me tell you people, there are very few orange shirts in the stands today."

"Yes, Bobby. All the eye can see is purple. These locals do take their Quidditch seriously and I would hate to be a Cannons player or supporter out there this afternoon..."

Ginny huffed in annoyance at the commentators and supporters. "Poor Harry."

"You might still need to go out there this year," her father said.

"I doubt it, Dad," she spoke while wrapping another blanket around herself for warmth and comfort. "It'll be near impossible for them to make it through after losing their opening two games."

"Yeah," Ron agreed. "Little Ginny here is safe for another year."

She sent her brother a meaningful glare, which he just shrugged off as their attention drifted back to the wireless.

"... Potter calls his boys across and is giving them a pep talk. Not as much arm waving, shouting, jumping and fist pumping as Wood, but the team looks to be ready for anything Portree can throw at them."

"You show them, Harry," Ron shouted loudly beside Ginny. He wore his second best Cannons jersey. Not the one Harry gave him, which was way too precious to wear.

Ginny felt like saying something too, but kept quiet. Instead, she urged Harry on in her mind. Her mother placed a comforting hand on Ginny's shoulder. The touch helped slow the increasing tempo of her heart.

The faint sound of the crowd cheering crackled through the speakers. "I'm sure you can hear from the sound that the Portree players have flown onto the pitch."

"They look determined, Peter. Two games and two losses with no Snitches means Portree is at the bottom of the log with nothing to show for their hard work."

"Portree would be doubly disappointed with last month's game. They were leading comfortably when they lost the Snitch to the Wasps."

"The Cannons, however, come from two wins, but will the loss of their star Keeper and Captain, Wood, impact their play?"

"That's the big question, the one everyone's been asking and debating, but which only time can tell."

"Indeed, many a drink has been consumed in local pubs these past few nights in the quest for answers. But the real test is out there in the skies where the captains are now shaking hands."

"They're posing for the usual pre-match photo and pennant swapping. The Captains really seem to be giving each other the evil eye as they grip the other's hand for the photo."

"Definitely some pregame mental battles, but Potter seems untroubled as he casually turns his broom around and speeds up into the sky to join Portree's Seeker."

"The crowd is growing restless as the referee releases the Snitch… You can almost hear the breaths being held… The whistle blows and the game begins... The pace is frantic. Spinnet passes to Greyton who dodges a murderous Bludger... He throws to Spinnet again who flips it backwards into the speeding arms of Markam... Portree is flying wildly, unsettled no doubt by a strong start from then Cannons... Markam ducks beneath a weak strike from McGraw... He throws and... scores! That moves the Cannons into an early lead...

"... Two hours into the game. It has been brutal. Portree are behind 140 - 20. If they don't do anything soon the game will be beyond their grasp...

"Wait! What's happening... Potter is screaming… Merlin…" the overly excited shouts from Bobby turned into nothing but static.

The game had been progressing slowly down below. This high, the cold winter air had even more sting. Warming charms barely helped keep the cold away and his fingers already had trouble flexing.

More problems were on the way, however. A thick mist bank was rolling in from the north. It would still take about half an hour to arrive, but when it did, visibility would all but vanish.

Harry adjusted his worn pair of goggles and renewed the search for a very elusive Snitch. He could not remember it ever taking so long to find the ball. He began to despair at the thought of finding it.

A few minutes later, Harry glanced up at the fog. It had come closer and his hopes sunk even further. In the shroud of mist it would be anyone's game. A shiver ran down his

spine, and he took a moment to rub his hands against each other. The cold began to seep into his very bones.

"Get a grip," Harry mumbled to himself. In desperate need of a distraction, he took a minute to watch the frenetic game below. The boys seemed to be holding their own. A slight grin formed, they were 120 points in the lead. Perhaps, just maybe the mists would not cause the Cannons to lose.

The elation faded rapidly. He still had a job to do, and he did not plan on having his first game as Captain being the first time he'd lose the Snitch.

"Focus," he gritted his teeth together. It proved increasingly difficult to motivate himself. The incoming fog sucked the life out of him, making him rub at his forehead.

"Harry," a voice whispered. He spun round on his broom, looking for the source of the voice. The other Seeker flew around the hoops on the far end of the field. The air around Harry held nothing.

He leaned down on the handle and sped away to begin a new search pattern. "Nothing's going to happen." This time the voice was soft and gentle, but it held a touch of worry. He jerked his broom to a halt and whipped it back into the direction that he'd come from. There was nothing. A cold sweat broke out on his forehead and the grip on his broom lessoned.

"There's nothing," he said to himself through clenched teeth. "Get a grip." The words were coupled with a balled fist hitting his thigh. The small bit of pain helped his focus.

Taking a deep breath, Harry began to fly along a practised grid. "I love you."

This time he came to a sudden and prolonged stop. His breathing grew more ragged and he massaged his temples with gloved fingers while trying to find the source of the voice. The opposing Seeker flew past and barely sent Harry a glance. It proved ever harder to breathe. The pounding of his heart increased and he had to grip the broom's smooth wooden handle for support.

The sound of wood splintering echoed loudly across the field. Harry twirled his broom about expertly, once again nothing seemed untoward. The crowd still cheered, and the game continued uninterrupted down below. Even after the sound drifted into memory it still echoed clearly in his mind.

"Leave him! Take me!" a female voice screamed.

Harry inhaled sharply. He knew the voice, he'd heard it before in dreams. It had never sounded so clear before.

"Step aside, Lily," a man's voice sneered. Harry's breathing became erratic and ever shorter. His skin grew clammy and every part of him shook.

It proved an effort to keep hold of the broom. The fog drifted past the pitch. Harry tried to focus on it, but his vision had grown too blurry. The stadium faded away slowly to reveal a room. Small hands were raised before his face, they held onto the bars of a cot.

Warmth trickled down his face, he could not move; the vision too vivid. A woman stood before him, her form blocking most of the splintered door from view. He wanted to reach out, to touch the long red hair, to envelop her in a hug.

Her shaking hand lifted slowly, the wand pointed straight at the intruder. "You'll have to go through me."

"No!" Harry screamed. The worlds of room and blue sky merged. He lunged forwards towards her as everything glowed sickly green. A body slammed into the small cot, and the small hands let go in surprise. His mother's head was already limp, the life extinguished as auburn hair slipped past his face and down to the ground. He could feel himself, baby and adult, screaming. Clouds floated about. A snakelike man with a satisfied grin stared down at him. Voldemort. Large, impossibly immense, his grin chilling.

Air rushed past Harry, he knew the ground was coming closer. It did not matter, the man was above him. A wand appeared. It was the end, there was nothing that he could do. The world slipped into darkness as another burst of green light brightened the corners of his vision.

Ginny dropped the piece of lace she was unsuccessfully trying to stitch to a practise piece of material. Thankfully the radio adjusted to the excited voices of Bobby and Peter.

"…he's plunged over the handle. It looks like he is trying to grab something. Merlin the man is screaming his lungs out. He's falling rapidly. Wait… Edgecombe is coming around… wait… he's caught him with a miraculous catch. If not for the Beater's strong arms and quick reactions Potter would have plunged to certain death. The unconscious Potter..."

Ginny sat bolt upright, her hands tightening around the woollen blanket thrown over her legs.

"... he's pale, but I don't see any signs of panic. Edgecombe, who has been joined by Mitchum, appears to have everything under control. The game is still going on, but the Cannons have lost two players as they try to revive Potter while protecting him from any flying Bludgers..."

"They've lost three actually, Bobby, as they have no Seeker at the moment."

Ginny made to stand, but her mother held her back. "There is nothing to be done, Ginny."

"But…" Her mother looked sad, but Ginny nodded. "He's got people there who can help." She sank back down onto the couch and listened while her fingers twisted about one another.

"Indeed, things are looking grim for the Cannons, but Potter seems to be more awake."

"Bobby, I've tried talking to some of the officials, but no one seems to know what happened to Potter. They say all security measures are working and active. But Portree does have the weakest system in the league."

"Very strange, Peter. One minute Potter was sitting confidently on his broom surveying the pitch, the next he tumbles over his broom screaming."

"Odd indeed, Bobby. But the woes continue for the Cannons. The score has changed quickly, and they now trail 200-140. With two key players helping Potter and a rookie Keeper it appears that the game is all but lost. A tough game lies ahead."

"Tough? More like impossible... Wait there's more movement by Potter. He's up and talking to Mitchum... The Seeker looks a trifle unbalanced, but Edgecombe is nodding."

Ginny leaned anxiously towards the wireless. Her lip almost bloodied from biting.

"They're off leaving Potter alone who awkwardly rolls over onto his broom... Merlin, the man's flying again people! Amazing after being out for nearly ten minutes, Potter is crazy enough to try and find the Snitch."

"Indeed Bobby. He appears slightly unsettled and his flying seems a bit unsteady."

"Which about evens the odds, Peter." The sound of the two presenters trying hard not to laugh sounded through the wireless.

Mrs. Weasley placed a hand on Ginny's shoulder. The action, like earlier, helped. The chuckles died down over the wireless and they listened again.

"The Cannons seem to be regrouping, but they just let another goal through..."

... Potter's diving, not falling mind you… The Portree Seeker is left fumbling around looking in the other direction... Potter stretches and... He's got the Snitch! Merlin's beard, he's got the Snitch!"

"Amazing turn of events. Again Pride of Portree loses a game they had in the bag. Granted, Potter was down for a while, but if they wanted to win the season then this was the time to capitalise."

"The game ends, with the Cannon's taking maximum points again and winning the game 290-220."

"That ends the coverage of the third Group B game. A full log will be given at the end of tomorrow's game between the Kestrels and the Tornadoes."

"Good evening and thank you for listening from me, Bobby."

"And me Peter. Until next time." The wireless crackled and Ron turned it off.

Everyone sat in stunned silence; Ginny most of all. She wanted to go to him, but there wouldn't be anything she could do. He had been on the ground and seemingly out of harm's way and now he had the Snitch.

Her father patted her leg. "He'll be here as soon as he can. I'm sure it was nothing."

Ginny nodded, not entirely convinced by her father's words. "We should just tell the press and then I could go see him now," she mumbled.

"You could," her father agreed. "There is no real reason to hide your relationship."

"We want to keep our lives away from the press for as long as possible, Dad. The moment they realise we're dating we wouldn't have a moment's peace. I also need a few more games to make a name for myself."

Mr. Weasley made no comment, but she could see his mind working. "I understand, Ginny." He smiled in his usual fatherly manner. "Just don't let all these secrets break you apart."

"It's only the one secret," Ginny said softly. "Honestly, I'm doing this for him. He's not ready for being scrutinised by the public."

"Don't they harass him now?" he asked in surprise.

She shook her head. "No, they've stopped trying to get information about him. But with me around, they'll have something to dig at."

"So what is he hiding?" he asked. "A criminal record?"

"What? No!" Ginny said angrily. At least her father looked a bit ashamed at having asked.

"I'm sorry, Ginny. But you have to admit that not knowing much about him is rather unnerving."

"I know nearly everything about him," Ginny said firmly. "And there is no reason for you to be worried about him, dad. You'll find out eventually."

He nodded slowly.

Ginny let out a strangled cry of frustration. "I wish I could go to him now. He might need me."

Her father wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "He'll be fine. He's nothing if not tough. Besides you heard the commentator, Harry caught the Snitch so he should be alright."

They sat in tense silence; her mother knitting a green Christmas jersey for Harry in the corner, while Ron and her father started a game of chess. Ginny sat alone on the couch after stowing her dress, her mind on Harry.

The back door opened and Ginny bolted upright. A second later a pale faced Harry, still in mud covered Quidditch kit stepped into the living room.

"Harry," she called out before barrelling into him. He grunted softly at the impact. Tears welled up as she held onto him. All those thoughts of losing him, the fears she'd been holding back, came flooding out.

He stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head. "I'm alright, Ginny. A night's rest and I'll be back to normal." He winced slightly as she let go.

"Why don't I believe you?" Her eyes wandered up and down his torn clothes before coming to rest on a slightly blue eye. His hand ran through his hair and she noticed a few trickles of blood from various cuts above his hairline. "Ok, you're going home to rest."

She grabbed his arm, led him outside and Apparated them to the flat. She'd deal with her parents later, but she was sure they'd understand. Harry wobbled and nearly collapsed. A steadying hand against her shoulder was all that kept him from falling over.

"How bad?" she asked softly.

"Been worse." The answer came slowly. "Physically I'm not that hurt."

"Not that hurt!" she said in outrage. "Harry, you're covered in blood and bruised from head to toe."

He limped into the room and began to remove his clothes. "They're just from a rather forceful collision with Patrick." Ginny winced at the cuts and bruises covering his back. Without asking, she withdrew her wand and began cleaning the wounds. None were deep, but they would hurt if left untended.

"We're making a habit out of this," Harry whispered as Ginny worked on his back.

"One that better stop soon, Potter."

He said nothing, only nodded his head, as she methodically began healing each cut and bruise. She even fixed a cracked bone once years ago. That piece of talent came from needing to heal Fred after a failed prank before their mother came home. George had been of little help since he'd been out cold from the same mishap.

"Thank you," Harry whispered when she finished. He turned around and gave her a gentle, but tired kiss. "I'm going to take a shower."

She followed. The hot water cascading over them washed away a lot of tension; she could only hope it did the same for him. His eyes, however, remained haunted. He never

once looked in her direction, instead the bare wall before him held all his attention. She never got the impression that he was ignoring her, instead he saw things far away. Almost like reliving an old memory.

Her hand moved up and down his arm as water sprayed over her, most of which was ricocheting off him. "You want to talk about it?" she asked eventually.

He shook his head. "Later," he mouthed before moving towards her. His arms came around and they held each other as Harry tried to come to terms with what had happened during the game.

An hour later they were lying in bed. Harry was on his back, while Ginny rested her head on his shoulder with a leg draped over his waist.

"There were Dementors outside the stadium," Harry began eventually. "I only just realised that's what happened."

Ginny tried not to flinch, but it proved impossible. "But the commentators said nothing."

"No one would have felt their presence," Harry continued and Ginny shivered at his haunted tone. Harry held her closer, or perhaps she had gripped him tighter. "I think you would probably react similarly to me. Those of us who have seen and experienced the worst horrors are more affected than others."

She trailed a trembling finger across his chest wondering what would happen to her near a Dementor. "I've never been close to one. Do they really make you relive or at least feel your worst memory?"

Harry kissed her forehead. "When Dementors come near me I..." She looked up to find him biting down hard to keep his emotions at bay. "I see my mother. I hear her screams. I see the green light that took her life. I hear the laughs of Voldemort as he steps over her fallen body."

She let her arm fall around his chest and hugged him tightly.

"It's strange. Even though it horrifies me, I also want to hear it again. Her voice, as she begs for mercy, it's the only memory I have of her. Being near a Dementor is the only time I ever get to remember my mother."

His hand tightened into a ball. "I was such a fool today. I should've noticed the signs earlier."

"You were probably distracted by the game, Harry. It happens."

He shook his head. "I can't afford mistakes like that Ginny."

"What you really should be asking is why there were Dementors so close to a stadium full of witches and wizards."

He nodded slowly. "I will be asking Dumbledore that exact question when I see him tomorrow." He yawned loudly. "But now I think I really do need to sleep."

Ginny remained silent as Harry's breathing became steady. Pushing herself slightly higher, she kissed his lips softly then wormed her way into a comfortable position and tried her best to fall asleep as well.

Ginny arrived with Harry at the Burrow early Wednesday morning. They would be playing the last games before the winter break in a few days. More importantly, Hermione and Ron's wedding was only two weeks away. The sun shone and despite the cold air it remained a nice winter's day. Ron and Hermione sat outside on the porch talking, hands intertwined.

The pair failed to notice Harry and Ginny's arrival. "Morning," Ginny greeted as soon as she was within earshot. The couples head shot up and Ron dropped Hermione's hand, his ears growing red.

"Hi," they greeted together. Harry shook hands with Ron and gave Hermione an awkward hug. The friendship between Harry and Ron had not been unexpected. Ginny had guessed they would get along well, but she had not expected the slowly developing friendship between Harry and Hermione.

"So what's this all about? I mean dragging a bloke out of bed so early on his day off is cruel." Ron bounced about, hands deep in his pockets, as he spoke.

"Well," Ginny began slowly as she glanced up at Harry with arms folded across her chest to ward against the winter air.

Harry coughed in an adorably shy manner. His face was still a bit pale from the game a few days ago and his back had yet to heal completely. She did, however, feel rather smug at her healing abilities. None of the cuts looked like they would be leaving any scars. He already had too many.

He did manage to speak though. "We would like to give you a wedding present, but it's not really something we can choose for you."

Hermione's face lit up. "What is it? Plates? We really need a good set? Wait no... A decent set of knives and forks, we should have something good when guests come over for dinner.

"Hermione," Ron groaned. "The flat we were looking at getting is way too small for guests. We could fit what... two people in there besides ourselves."

Her face fell. "I suppose, but we should be getting some decent things for the future."

Harry shuffled closer to Ginny and slipped an arm around her waist. She welcomed the heat.

"So?" Hermione said facing Harry and Ginny. "What do you need our help for?"

"I'll take Ron and you can take Hermione," Harry said with a bright smile to Ginny.

"Wait?" Hermione held up a hand. "Where are we going?"

"That's part of the surprise," Ginny giggled. She took hold of her friend's hand and waited for Harry. "Ready?"

Harry nodded and all four of them vanished only to reappear on a soft green lawn. Ginny let go of Hermione and walked back to Harry, she really needed the warmth of his hold.

"Where are we?" Ron asked loudly.

"Option one," Harry said as he lifted his arms. "This is a great little property. It has enough space, as you can see, for a small Quidditch pitch and the place has four rooms that could easily be expanded if needed..."

"Wait!" Ron and Hermione shouted together. "You're giving us a house?" Hermione finished.

"I've got a few that I'm not doing anything with. So yes, Ginny and I are giving you a house."

"But..." Hermione's eyes were wide and Ron looked like he had swallowed something large. "You... this..."

"Why?" Ron managed to get the lump out his throat.

Harry glanced down shyly and nudged gently at a pebble near his feet. "I would like to help you. I mean a property is one of the most expensive things a young couple would want to buy one day. If you add the expense of raising a family... I... We."

"We just want you to be happy." Ginny finished for Harry. "This is something we want to do for the two of you."

Hermione took a step closer to Harry. Her face a mixture of emotions. To Ginny's surprise Hermione threw her arms around Harry. Ron edged closer to Ginny.

"You sure about this?" he asked. "I mean, blimey, Ginny. A house?"

Ginny shrugged. "Harry inherited some money and as professional Quidditch players we both earn enough." He began to protest but she cut him off. "This is not some attempt at trying to show off, Ron." Her voice was firm and level. "We are doing this because we care and because we can. Wouldn't you help someone if you had the means?"

Ron grumbled a bit, but he did not meet her gaze. "Oh alright, but if you give us a Christmas present I'll hex you."

Ginny shrieked and jumped up and down. "It's settled! Now can we please get to looking around? I'm so excited!"

Harry took her hand, which was difficult due to her constant bouncing about, and led the group across the lawn towards the small two story Victorian manor house.

"So what do you think so far?" Harry nervously asked as they approached.

"Merlin, it's big," Ron said in awe.

"I'm not sure, Harry," Hermione began. "It is nice, but we'll never be able to furnish a place this large. I mean we don't even have plates."

Ginny laughed. "Relax, Harry tells me that all the houses are furnished."

"They are," Harry agreed. "So you can replace things as you go along."

Hermione relaxed visibly. "Oh, in that case, it's lovely." The brunette took a deep breath. "The garden requires some extensive work. The roses are too far away and the pond is a bit overgrown. The grass seems to be in good condition, but Merlin knows where Ron is going to be able to put his Quidditch hoops. The veranda seems pleasant enough and it will provide some good shade during the summer. I'm not sure if it will be warm enough to use during the winter as it seems a bit cool now. The sun has barely begun to reach the steps and... What?" she asked loudly.

Harry was trying hard to contain his sniggers, Ron was looking wide eyed at his bride and Ginny tried her best to not laugh out loud.

"Grow up!" Hermione huffed, but her cheeks grew slightly red, but a grin formed on her face. "Let's go inside!"

"Much better idea," Harry agreed.

The inside was spacious with high ceilings. A large fireplace dominated the living room and a door led through into the sun room. The kitchen was off to the side and a large staircase led up to the second floor.

Ginny took hold of Hermione's hand and led her to a closed door. "This is especially for you. I doubt Ron would think much of this one." Hermione reached out and pushed the door open. She gasped.

"Ginny," her friend barely managed to say.

"All these come with the house. Harry says many of the books are older than the house itself."

"But where..." Hermione floated across to the first bookshelf. It went all the way to the ceiling and a ladder rested against it. Each wall was covered with shelves and each one was full. Ginny leaned against the doorframe and watched her friend trying to take it all in.

Harry brushed past Ginny and entered the room. "This is the smallest library of the houses..."

"Smallest!" Hermione cried out almost dropping a book. Harry looked slightly taken aback.

"I forgot to mention that Hermione is fanatically fanatical about her books."

"Oh," Harry said. "I only thought she was obsessed." His eyes were wide and bright. "Then I really must show you some of my families more vast libraries."

"V... vast," Hermione stuttered. "This is already massive."

Harry smiled. "The Potter family has come a long way in the Magical community, Hermione. I'm the sole heir." Hermione glanced down at the book in her hand; fingers stroked the cover longingly. "No matter which house you chose, all the libraries will be open to you. The house elfs have catalogued each book and they're all magically indexed and linked."

Her eyes narrowed. "You have house elfs?"

Ginny froze. She had never spoken to Harry about Hermione's little passion. Her sole mission in life had been to free them.

Harry continued without missing a beat. "They have served us for years, but I've already freed them all according the SPEW legislation, which is currently in draft form at the Ministry. I don't know if you've heard of the legislation, but it is rather remarkable."

"You adopted the SPEW legislation already?" Hermione said in surprise. "I didn't even know the public knew about it."

"As the heir to the Black and Potter household I have two seats in the Wizengamot and I've been pushing for the passing of the..." Harry's eyes went wide. "Of course, Granger. I... small world," Harry laughed. "A pleasure to finally meet you Miss Granger. I've been wanting to talk with you but Quidditch and... um Ginny has kept me too busy. But Quidditch is really what kept me away from your presentation. The notes of which I must say are quite extensive."

"The honour is mine." Hermione blushed. "I knew someone was pushing for it, but I never realised that it was you."

"You wouldn't, few people know that I have two seats and those that do are wise enough to keep quiet about it."

Ginny closed the door as the two began an in-depth discussion about politics and legislation and went to find Ron. She found him standing outside in the garden and staring up into the sky. "Would you like to fly around a bit?" Ginny asked when she reached him.

"Didn't bring a broom." He let out a longing sigh.

"There's a broom shed just around the side. I'll go get us two."

She came back with two brooms. "Here." She handed one to Ron.

"Thanks," he whispered before shooting up into the air. Ginny followed.

From above she could see the property in all its wonder. The small pond, like Hermione noticed, required some work. A bit of magic and it would be perfect. A small stream flowed along the one side of the property and into the pond.

"It's like home," Ron said coming alongside her. "I never thought I'd find a place like it, but this feels like it could really be a home, Ginny."

She nodded. To some degree it did feel like the home she'd grown up in, but in that lay the problem. She wanted a home where she could raise a family, but she needed her future home to be something different.

"It's perfect for you. I told Harry as much when he took me to the properties."

"You just need to convince, Hermione," Ron said. "She might not like it as much."

"Oh, I think she loves this even more than you."

"You think?" Ron asked with a glint in his eyes.

"Why don't we go ask?" Ginny shot down to the ground as Harry and Hermione emerged from the house. She landed much more gracefully than her brother and walked straight into Harry's waiting arms and gave him a kiss.

"So?" Harry asked the pair.

"Perfect." Hermione looked eager. Ron voiced the same thought.

"Ok, but let's just take a look at the other two just so that you are sure you want this one."

They all agreed. The day passed quickly as they showed Ron and Hermione the other two houses, but the first remained their favourite. It was neither too large nor too small. It had a cosy library for Hermione and a nice sized garden for flying. The two couples sat outside the first house as the afternoon neared an end. Each had a drink in hand as they toasted on Ron and Hermione's new home.

"So when do you two get to choose a house?" Ron asked.

Ginny glanced expectantly at Harry who tried hard not to smile. "I might have a nice property that might be perfect for us and I might be waiting for the perfect time to go show you."

She stood and walked across to him and promptly sat down on his lap nearly spilling his drink. "So you think you have me all figured out, Mr Potter?" she said with a mischievous glimmer in her eyes.

"No," he shook his head before taking a sip from his drink. "But I do believe you'll love the place and if you don't then we can always find another."

She snuggled up closer to him and rested her head on his chest beneath his chin. "So when are you going to show me this place?"

"Soon." He placed his lips against her forehead. "Ginny, I was thinking, rather hoping, that if you liked it enough to make it our home then we could have the family Christmas dinner there," Harry whispered.

Ginny nodded in agreement. It was warm and comfortable against him. The steady rise and fall of his chest and the gentle sound of his breathing had her falling under his spell. "Love you," she murmured.

She barely heard his reply before promptly falling asleep.

"Well listeners, the final game of the round has come and gone. Though we celebrate the Christmas break, we mourn the weeks with no Quidditch."

"It's a pity to be having a break now, Bobby. The top teams are looking good in the air."

"Indeed the coaches have really been pushing their teams hard. The Cannons, Arrows, Harpies and the Kestrels are all looking strong."

"It's become a four centaur race for the cup as the season begins to draw nearer to the pointy end of the wand."

"Perhaps our listeners would like a quick summary up of the fourth round before we say goodnight, Peter."

"The Harpies, dangerous as ever took another comfortable win. This time they took full points home again as they squashed the Falcons, 390-180. Weasley took another outstanding catch.

"The Magpies struggled against the Catapults. Both teams came from a loss in the previous round, but the Catapults wanted the win more. They played like demons to stretch their lead by two hundred. The game ended when the Magpies caught the Snitch. They lost, but managed to maintain some dignity.

"A disappointed Arrows team walks away with only a single point when their Chasers failed to do much. The Arrows Seeker ended the game to save some pride, but the Bats won the game 370-300.

"The Harpies take the outright lead in Group A for the first time, they still have maximum points and lie comfortably on twelve. The Arrows with their upset lie second on ten points. None of the other teams come close so the Arrows and the Harpies will be fighting next round for the top position. The Bats and Falcons lie joint third with a miserable four points. The Catapults and Magpies lie last with only three points apiece.

"In Group B the Kestrels are still going strong. Like the Harpies they have maximum points and lead the log with twelve points. The Cannons lie second on eleven. The Cannons and Kestrels will be fighting it out in January to see who ends up at the top of the log. It will be a tough game for both teams, but the Kestrels are the favourites. In a respectable third lie the Wasps on seven. They can be pleased with the season so far. Fourth is Puddlemere with three. Portree lie fifth with two and a disappointed Tornadoes are lying last with only a single point."

"Thank you, Peter. Makes me want to skip Christmas and Apparate straight to January. This season is heating up nicely. And none of us can predict what will happen next."

"Good bye."

"Until next month, Merry Christmas."

Harry arrived at the Burrow after a very busy morning. The house was finally ready to show Ginny. Now all he needed was to get her there. His hands clapped together eagerly as he walked briskly towards the kitchen door. The Weasleys would all be sitting in there this time of the morning.

He took an excited breath and entered the house. Everyone sat in deathly silence. The grin on Harry's face dropped instantly.

"Oh, hello, dear," Mrs. Weasley greeted absently.

"Morning, Molly," Harry replied mechanically. His eyes drifted towards a very silent Ginny, she looked even more distracted.

"What happened?" Harry asked the room.

Mr. Weasley stood and unfolded a well-read copy of the Daily Prophet. Harry frowned; he'd forgotten to skim through his copy as he'd been too busy making preparations.

Harry took the paper nervously and turned it over to the front page. He blanched and took a step back, only to collide with the door he'd just come through.

"He escaped?" Harry managed to say.

"A Death Eater named, Lucius Malfoy." Mr. Weasley explained. "They say he was only captured a few months ago. Apparently he had someone on the inside."

Ginny looked up at him worryingly. The question in her eyes clear. "It won't affect the wedding, Ginny," Harry said.

"Of course it won't," Mrs. Weasley laughed. "Don't know why Ginny is so worked up about a single Death Eater who's escaped. It's terrible but it's not like he's hunting you." She stood grumbling. "She's making us all miserable this morning."

Harry chuckled nervously. Ginny on the other hand did manage to relax slightly. "Good, because we sent the invites out yesterday." She stood slowly and embraced Harry. "Hermione put this brutally effective charm on the cards that forces people into keeping it secret. Only those whose names are on the invite can read it."

He whistled softly. "Remind me not to cross her."

They sat down by the table and his future mother-in-law began to pile food onto his plate. "You looked quite chipper this morning, Harry."

"I did?" he said in surprise. "Must be the holiday spirit. It's nice going into the Christmas season with a family around." He kissed Ginny on the cheek, who beamed back at him.

Mrs. Weasley wiped at watery eyes. "Well you're always welcome here."

"So what do you have planned for us today?" Ginny asked before taking a bite out of her toast.

"I was planning on a nice peaceful day wandering around aimlessly." He sighed regretfully. "But I suppose I'll be getting a summons to the Ministry within the hour."

Arthur perked up at Harry's words. "The Ministry? Why would they be calling you during the holidays?"

Harry glanced down at his fingers. "I... I talked to Hermione about it. So I suppose." He laughed. "I have a seat on the Wizengamot. So I guess they'll be meeting to discuss the escape."

Mrs. Weasley dropped a plate and Arthur inhaled deeply. "I guess that might be something one forgets to mention." He spoke softly. "I mean being part of the ruling body of the Ministry is not really something major."

"Dad!" Ginny said loudly. "There was no need to talk about it until now. It's not known to the public because of him playing Quidditch and other factors." She huffed. "Besides he has two seats."

"Two!" her mother gasped, the broken fragments she retrieved crashed to the floor again.

Harry just stared blankly ahead. "The Potter and Black seats."

"Bl.. Black?" Arthur questioned nervously.

"My godfather, Sirius, happened to be the only surviving heir."

"Sirius from the Order?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

Harry nodded. "He raised me after my parents' death."

"Oh, he was a nice man." She turned back to her cleaning. "Troubled, but always very close to Dumbledore."

Arthur's eyes narrowed as he studied Harry. "Yes, he was very close to Dumbledore and they worked on special assignments." Harry could see the wheels turning in the man's mind. "You rescued Ginny from the Chamber, why you?"

Harry looked at Ginny and then at her parents. "I can speak Parseltongue," he said shyly. Twin gasps echoed around the kitchen. "I wasn't born with ability, just like Ginny wasn't. Voldemort cursed me as a baby and boom, I speak snake."

Arthur nodded in understanding. "I can see why a Parseltongue was needed." He still did not look away from Harry. "But it did not end there, did it?"

"No," Harry agreed. He folded his arms across his chest and waited.

The seconds ticking by felt like an eternity. "You fought at the Battle of Hogwarts." It was not a question, merely a stated fact. "For the Order." Harry nodded. "But yet I don't know you."

The man's eyes went wide. "You were him." It came out barely above a whisper.

Harry managed a nod.

Harry left the house in a poor mood. He'd been so full of life when he stepped into the kitchen. With the news of Lucius' escape he'd grown steadily quieter.

The knowledge that his stalker was free made him feel exposed. The single wand strapped to his right forearm seemed inadequate. Before he reached the Aparration point at the Burrow he'd already decided what needed to be done. The world compressed and spun as the Burrow and picturesque countryside disappeared from view only to be replaced by the filthy buildings of Diagon Alley.

He began to march towards the bank. Harry, however, never made it to his vault. A silent spell struck him firmly between the shoulder blades, his legs buckled and if not for the arms around his middle he would have fallen to the ground. When Harry woke he found himself strapped to a chair. Lucius, pale and gaunt from the few months in Azkaban, sat studying him.

"You really have been a bother, Harry." The man drawled slowly. The tip of his wand moved across Harry's cheek. A small trail of blood followed. It wasn't deep, but the skin burned from the contact. "Two months in Azkaban is not something I'd like to repeat."

Harry made no reply as he waited to hear Ginny's voice. Thankfully it never came. She was not here, so instead he sat waiting for his captor to mention her name. Harry knew he should've stayed away from her. Her eyes, bright smile, cute freckles and loving personality had drawn him in against his better judgement.

"I've been searching long and hard for you, Potter." The man laughed eventually. "But I'm a patient man. I can play a long game." His eyes darkened and Harry felt a chill run up his spine. "Crucio!" Malfoy screamed with unusual passion.

Pain shot through Harry's body. Every nerve, every fibre of his being, screamed for the pain to end; but it did not. Time held no meaning during those moments; it never did and never will. To some degree it almost proved a blessing. The pain, however, always came back. This time the full force hit as his body slumped against the chair. The bindings, which had cut into the skin around his ankles and wrists, kept him upright.

"You do scream a lot," Malfoy grinned. "Imagine if I sold a recording of this to the Witch Weekly. You might lose a few fan girls."

Harry wanted to argue, but he had learned early on that holding back only increased the pain. His throat was sore and dry like always. "What now?" Harry croaked. "You going to kill me?"

Malfoy laughed again. "Kill you? Merlin no, my friend. That would take the fun out of all my plans." Harry blinked, trying hard to focus. "I've put so much in place to get to you, Harry. Spent so many of my precious Galleons." Malfoy stood and rummaged inside a bag lying on the table. "And I do like my entertainment. I even thought about going after this mystery girl of yours." Lucius sighed. "But alas, I've got my plans and you are all I need."

"So why bother with all of this?" Harry coughed loudly. It would take days to recover from the prolonged exposure to the curse.

Malfoy shrugged. "Happenstance, really. You hide yourself well, but you really should stay away from Diagon Alley."

The man sat down on a leather chair. Harry blinked and tried to focus on the item Lucius had removed from the bag. "You being such a lonely recluse does make it difficult for men like me."

"You could end this now," Harry said angrily through clenched teeth. He finally managed to focus on Malfoy's hand. Harry tried hard not to panic; the man was playing with Harry's wand. "Two small words, a puff of green, and your troubles are over." Harry closed his eyes, the man had still not made any mention of Ginny or her family. What was his game? Did he really not know or care who she was? If he was going to let Harry live then he would have made sure to torment his very soul. This whole evening seemed to be about getting Harry to fear what was awaiting him. "I'm dead, and you can go live your life happily somewhere else."

Malfoy smiled cruelly. "It's not about your demise; it's about watching you fall." He stood and waved his arms dramatically. "It's a show, Harry. And believe me, Harry, it will be memorable when the world watches you die."

He slowly raised Harry's wand. "It'll be like you watching this." The sound of wood creaking and then snapping hurt more than any Cruciatus.

"No!" Harry screamed over and over as he fought against the cords holding him in place. The pain did not matter, the blood dripping to the floor held no meaning. His wand, the wand that had been through it all was gone.

Malfoy laughed over Harry's cries. "I do hope your wandless abilities are better than you showed at the Harpies game." Lucius laughed loudly. "Relax, Harry. I've heard that letting go of this world is easy." He raised a wand and darkness came after another burst of red.

"Harry," Ginny called out once she'd appeared in his flat. "Are you alright, you've been quiet since you left the Burrow." Silence was the only reply.

She walked into the bedroom. The bed was made and everything seemed to be in order. "Kreacher!" Ginny called out.

A small pop announced the house elf's arrival. "You called, Miss."

"Where's Harry?" she asked curtly. She did not feel up to the elf's usual dry comments.

"He went to the Burrow," Kreacher replied. "He's been gone since."

"But he left earlier this afternoon!" she exclaimed loudly. "Did he go and hunt Malfoy?"

Kreacher looked bewildered. "Kreacher doesn't know, Miss. Harry said nothing to Kreacher."

She felt for her wand and then Apparated to the Harpies stadium. Gwenog would still be working.

Ginny sat, legs tucked beneath her body, unable to do anything. Nothing about Harry's flat felt right. He should have been here, laughing or complaining. He was supposed to have come straight to the flat after visiting the Burrow. The cushion held tightly against her chest provided little comfort. Kreacher had come and gone a few times, but never once could he tell Ginny anything more. Harry Potter was missing without a single trace.

She had been sitting on the couch for hours, the sun already well beneath the horizon, her fingers wrapped around a cup of tea long since empty. The people in the moving picture of Harry and his adopted family moved relentlessly; their smiles frustrating. Her body cried out for sleep, but how could she? Harry was out there somewhere. She hoped alive.

A sudden, almost uncontrolled, pop echoed from behind; the sound much louder than Kreacher's. Ginny leapt to her feet, the cup tumbling from her hands towards the floor, to face the noise. Harry strode, rather staggered towards a chair, his back turned towards her.

"Where have you been, Harry?" Half a day's worth of concern and fear quickly bubbled over into anger. "I've been worried sick for hours."

"I was busy," Harry replied without turning to face her. "I'm sorry… b…but I don't think I c…can see you anymore."

"I... What!" Ginny shouted. "How dare you say something like that, Harry?"

"I'm not g…good for you. Being near me will only g…get you hurt." Before she could reply Harry Apparated away leaving her standing alone in the lifeless flat.

Paralysed from shock, she fell back against the couch. What should she be feeling? There was nothing except a dull ache deep within her chest. Harry could not have been serious? Had he been? Two fingers pinched her forearm in desperation, hoping that this was all some twisted nightmare.

When she arrived at the Burrow the pain had yet to lesson. In fact it had grown steadily worse. It swelled and throbbed each time bringing her closer to understanding, nearer to the brink of tears. The emotions near overflowing.

"Ginny," her mother called. "Is Harry with you? I wanted to ask him about his..."

She'd not had the courage to tell her parents about Harry's disappearance and Gwenog had helped to get Dumbledore involved. Her mother's words, however, pushed her to the edge and over. "He's not going to be here anytime soon!" Ginny shouted. Her lips began to tremble. "He just left me!"

Mrs. Weasley looked up at the outburst; her face an image of confusion. "But this morning, he looked so happy."

Ginny nodded dumbly, a tear, the first of what might be many slipped down her cheek. Thankfully only the one leaked down her left cheek. "He did, didn't he?" She tried to laugh, the action threatened to shed more tears. "I mean everything was going so well."

The world grew misty and the only sensation was her mother's embrace. "It's going to be alright, Ginny. I'm sure it's just a misunderstanding. He probably didn't mean what he said."

She sobbed louder, her hands unable to keep her face dry. "I just don't understand. I went to his flat, waited all day, and then he comes in, doesn't even look at me, and then tells me that it's over."

Hands moved through her long hair. It just made the pain all the more real, those should have been Harry's hands. She stood abruptly. "I... I need some time alone." Ginny sniffed and tried to walk with some dignity to her room.

She was halfway up the stairs when her mind put the pieces together. "Malfoy!" she growled. "I'll skin that bastard alive!"

Gripping her wand tightly she ran out the back door, passed her stunned mother, and disappeared to Harry's flat. Her heart was beating loudly. Harry would sit down and talk to her. They would discuss this. He would not be leaving her over some fool Death Eater. When her vision stabilised she saw Harry standing in the kitchen.

Her mouth opened to shout; it died in her throat. His entire face was bloodied and bruised. Green eyes, filled with life these past months, looked empty and his hands trembled, the motion exaggerated by the large spoon in his right hand. When he spoke every word seemed forced and he stuttered. "I g…guess you d…didn't t…take my words well." He sagged unsteadily into one of the kitchen chairs.

"Of course I didn't," she said carefully while letting her mind take in the sight of him. "Do you expect me to just give up on us without a fight?"

His head dropped down in shame. "I c…can't do this to you, G…Ginny. Look at me." He tried to wave his hand before his face, but could not control his arms well enough. "I c…can't let this happen t…to you." His voice remained unsteady and grew steadily more hoarse.

Her legs began to move and before she knew it they were sitting across from one another. The scars on his face didn't look deep, but blood continued to leak slowly from them. Each looked to be terribly painful.

"Malfoy?" she whispered. Harry nodded in reply. "Can I heal them for you?"

"No," Harry barely managed to say. "They're… c…cursed, they'll need t…to heal by themselves." He raised an unsteady hand to his cheek and winced.

She reached out and took his hand in hers. It continued to shake. "Why are you shaking like this? You're voice?" He looked away jerkily. Anger welled up in her. "If you don't tell me how can I understand or help?"

Her loud words made him wince. "I... the C…cruciat…tous."

"Harry..." Ginny gasped. "How long?"

He shrugged and immediately hissed in pain. "D…don't know, you sort of lose c…count after five minutes."

"Five!" she cried out. "I'll floo..."

"N…no," he demanded fiercely. The reaction had him gasping in pain. His voice softened and he placed a weak, unsteady finger on her lips. His green, pain filled, eyes looked pleadingly at her. "I'm b…brewing the p…potion already. I'm just..."

"You need some help," she finished for him. It took all of a second for her to bounce to her feet. "So where do I start? I did rather well in Potions despite Snape."

Harry snorted. "He i…is a rather s…strange man, but g…good."

She worked methodically under Harry's direction. No wonder he had trouble, some of the ingredients needed to be chopped finely, others needed to be peeled. In his present state he would never have finished.

Eventually the potion lay simmering in a copper cauldron. She wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead. Sometime during the process of making the potion, Harry had nodded off into a fitful sleep.

Most of the cuts on his face had finally closed, but even in sleep his body trembled. Ginny wished there was something she could do for him, but he'd been adamant that cursed wounds like these could only heal with time. The bruises as well, and those would take until Christmas probably.

"Harry," she called out softly. "Harry." This time a little louder. Groggily he woke from his slumber. "The potion is ready."

"T…thank you." His voice extremely hoarse. "C…can you please g…get me a g…goblet? T…top shelf..."

She rolled her eyes. "I know your kitchen better than you do, Potter."

With goblet in hand, she poured the rapidly cooling potion into it. Harry took it gratefully and downed the contents. His face scrunched up. "Dreadful." Then he sighed and his eyes closed in relief. "Feeeeels goooood."

Ginny took the goblet from his unsteady hands and went to place it in the kitchen. Blood drained from her face. "Harry?"

"Yeesss," he replied slowly.

"Please tell me that's not your wand on the table?" Her voice had risen a few notches. Harry did not reply. She reached out and grabbed the two pieces. "Merlin, Harry! Your wand!"

She faced him again, his eyes were damp, and his head hung. "He snapped it mere inches from my face." He choked out the words. "It resisted, but…" his head shook slowly. "It's broken."

"But…"

He stood, a wand emerged from an invisible holster on his forearm. "Kreacher retrieved my other wand." He stared at the wood in his hand. "Should've just asked the elf from the beginning."

"Other wand?" she questioned.

He nodded. "Not as warm and fuzzy as my own." The wand vanished from view. "Honestly, I hate the thing, but it works as well if not better."

"Two wands?"

He shrugged. "Bad luck, really."

"Do I want to know?"

He laughed. "You really can say something other than a question. And no, you probably don't want to know."

She tried to give him her best glare. The only effect it had was to make them both laugh. The jovial atmosphere lasted only as long as it took for Harry to grow lightheaded. She grabbed him before he could fall.

"We best get you to bed before you collapse." Harry nodded and allowed Ginny to lead him into the bedroom. She removed his jeans and shirt; both of which were covered in dried blood and riddled with holes. Free from the clothes he lay staring up at the ceiling. She sat beside him, trying her best to not wince at the wounds.

"Are you really leaving me?" she asked even though the answer troubled her.

He shook his head. "I don't think I could stay away from you even if I tried." He rolled his head to the side to look at her. "If I had half a brain I would be chasing you out again."

She hated herself, she was not the crying type, but tears formed again. Ever since meeting Harry he'd opened some deeper part of her. "How do you do this?" she muttered while wiping at her face with the back of a hand.

"Do what?" Harry asked.

"Make me cry, I only cry when you're involved." He reached up and stroked her hair.

"I told you I'm not good for you."

She trailed a finger along his arm. "Why do you keep saying that? I need you, Harry, like I need air to breathe."

He swallowed. "They'll hurt you if they knew we were dating."

Ginny sat up straight. "I thought Malfoy already knew. Wasn't that why the Bludger went after me?"

Harry shook his head. "I thought the same, we all did, but no. Malfoy is playing some game and you happened to be a pawn. Me saving you and nearly getting myself killed just helped."

"Then what is the man doing?" Ginny asked.

"He's trying very hard to orchestrate a public and nasty end to Harry James Potter."

She bit her lip to stop it from trembling. "Then stop playing, Harry. Leave the world of Quidditch." She looked around anxiously. "Pack your bags! We can leave England tonight."

He closed his eyes. "I can't. Besides I know what his game is now. He is going to come at me during a game. I can be prepared. If I go into hiding then he might find you and your family." His eyes opened, they were a bright green again. "As long as I am playing he will focus on me there." He brushed a strand of damp red hair away from her cheek. His hand trailed along her neck before he pulled her down gently for a kiss. "I love you, Ginny, and as long as I keep flying you and probably many other people as well will be safe."

Frustration and anger welled up inside of her at the thought a single person causing so much pain. She wanted to argue with Harry, but there seemed to be a strange logic to his words. She pulled away, eyes narrowed. "And don't ever try to leave me like that again, Potter. I love you and I will stand by you."

"You know I don't deserve you."

"I know, so count your lucky stars that I didn't hex you either."

He gulped. "I don't think I've got any stars left."

She smiled. "Then you'll just have to rely on me for your luck." She lowered her face again and their lips touched softly. Even so she felt a small wince of pain coming from him.

Afterwards she lay next to him. "Besides, you couldn't have left me now. The invites for our wedding have already been sent and I need a date for Ron's wedding next weekend."

"That's come quickly," Harry said. "And I still need to show you something." He groaned as he stood.

"Harry Potter," Ginny said loudly. "Get back into bed."

He grinned as he awkwardly dressed into some fresh clothes. "I really need to show you something." He held out a hand. Ginny rolled her eyes and took hold of the still trembling hand. The world warped and then she arrived in the middle of a dark room. Harry whispered an incantation and a fireplace roared to life. A few more whispered spells had the entire room illuminated by dozens of candles.

The room felt homely, but yet not in the same way as the Burrow or the house they'd given Ron and Hermione. From the brief months spent with Harry and the few times she'd been to Hermione's house she knew what the difference was. It had strong Muggle influences, but balanced by a slight magical vibe.

She inhaled while trying to take in the room. "Harry?" it came out slowly. "Is this?" she questioned, some part denying what it had to be.

Harry smiled, the candle light danced in his eyes. "Welcome to what I hope might be our home."

The breath she'd been holding escaped in a sigh of relief. "Is this what you wanted to show me earlier today? The reason why you were so happy this morning."

"Things got a bit side-tracked." He admitted.

She rounded on him. "I thought you were going straight back to the flat, where did Malfoy get hold of you?"

Harry looked unsure. "I was on my way to Gringotts."

"Merlin, Harry, why?"

"To get my second wand," he admitted. "I put it in my vault after you stunned Malfoy. No point in carrying two around if you're not in danger."

She shook her head. "All the more reason for me wanting to know why you have it. But first I want to see more." Taking his hand she dragged him to the nearest door.

The house ended up being much more modern than the one Harry had given Ron and Hermione, but the size was about the same. Instead of stone walls large glass windows looked out to what he said were beautiful landscapes of green forests and rolling hills. The garden was much larger and hidden deep within the English countryside. Well as far away as one could be from anything or anyone else in England.

"So?" Harry asked once he'd given the tour. "Do you like it? I know it's very different to what you're used to."

She stood before one of the large windows, which could slide open, her reflection stared back. Within it, she could almost see a family moving about and outside little kids running around happily. Some of them were even flying about. Her arm carefully wrapped around his waist and he let his weight settle on her shoulder. "I love it, Harry." Her other arm waved about in front of the glass. "I might need to get used to all this, but I can see us living here."

"You can?" He sounded relieved and almost disbelieving.

"I think this might just be perfect." They fell silent for a few minutes. "But, Harry."

"Yeah?"

"You're in no shape to play host this year."

He groaned. "I know, but I bet the Burrow is a great place for Christmas."

She smiled. "The best."

"I need to get to bed," Harry said finally. Ginny did not want to leave, but Harry really did not look well. In the end she nodded. He waved his wand and the house went dark. "Until March." He said to her and the house.

"Until March," Ginny agreed just before she took them back to his flat.

Harry walked with a slight limp through the long corridors of the Ministry. The scars and dark purple bruises left behind by Malfoy were hidden behind his usual disguise as the odd forty year old blonde recluse and heir to the Black fortune.

Upon reaching the Minister's office the secretary stood. "Morning, Mr Black. I hope you've had a pleasant time away?" The question asked in her usual business-like tone.

"It was," Harry replied was a regretful sigh. "But it seems the Ministry can't do without me for more than a few days."

The older woman gave a slight nod. "Indeed, the Minister does seem to rely on your advice."

Harry glanced at the door. "Has Dumbledore arrived?"

"Yes," she said hastily. "And Patrick."

Harry whistled as if impressed. "The Minister of Sport. My, this seems to be even more serious than I first thought."

"Very." The woman nodded. "I haven't seen the Minster so upset in years." She lowered her voice. "Not since You-Know-Who."

He smiled reassuringly. "I'm sure we'll have him back to his old self in no time, Bridgett."

Her shoulders sagged slightly in relief. "It's good to have you here again."

Harry nodded and then slipped past her and through the door to the office. He closed it behind him. At the far end of the room Shacklebolt sat behind the desk. The Minister of Sport sat to the right and Dumbledore to the left, the only empty chair remaining was the one between the pair. Harry groaned internally.

"Good morning," he managed to greet when it looked like none of the others were about to say anything.

"Yes, good morning." Shacklebolt absently gestured Harry to the vacant seat. Dumbledore bowed his head slightly in greeting, but he too seemed deep in thought. Patrick alone seemed awake and almost eager to get the meeting underway.

"Bad day?" Harry ignored the Minister of Sport.

Patrick coughed, forcing Harry to look at the short bald man who had the strong arms of a Beater. "You could say that, Harry. Bloody Malfoy is causing rather a ruckus in the Ministry." His gruff and excited voice grated at Harry's nerves.

Harry frowned. "Well I daresay that's what we're here to discuss."

"Indeed," Shacklebolt interjected. "The news of your capture and release has caused a few sleepless nights, Harry."

"I'm sorry, Kingsley. I do hope the news has not spread beyond the three of you." Harry studied Kingsley. "I had actually hoped that Patrick would not be informed."

The Minister of Sport laughed. "Can't keep me out of the loop, boy!" He punched Harry's shoulder playfully. Then his voice grew serious. "Besides you plan on endangering some of the other players in my league."

Shacklebolt and Dumbledore looked displeased, but Patrick had a right to be here. The Minister took a deep breath, revealing his tired state. "No need to apologise, Harry. Sleepless nights comes with the territory. It's a substitute for leave, or so they say."

Harry grinned and Dumbledore chuckled even as he asked. "So what is it you wish to discuss, Harry?"

The question managed to sober Patrick. "We need to discuss security and Auror protection at all the remaining Quidditch games. I told you that Malfoy is going to come after me at a game and we've already come to the conclusion that I need to keep playing. Precautions therefore need to be made to ensure Malfoy does not get onto the pitch and if he does that the other players can escape unharmed."

"Yes, we have been thinking about that." Shacklebolt began. "Albus does seems to be of the opinion that you should face the problem head on. I on the other hand believe that you should stop playing." His eyes bore into Harry's. "I am sure you've considered the risk to my people. The people you risked everything to save."

"I have," Harry nodded, but he could feel the weight of the decision. "But Malfoy has never been one to kill randomly on mass. He wants my downfall to be a spectacle for the thousands at the game." He balled his fists and hit his leg softly. "I doubt he means anyone other than myself harm."

The Minister did not look relieved. His tired eyes turned to Dumbledore. "Is this another thing for the greater good, Albus?"

"Perhaps, but I agree with Harry. Malfoy is after him and him alone. I see no reason for the crowd to be at risk."

Shacklebolt's palm smacked down against the wooden table angrily. "And what about my Aurors and the players stuck alongside Harry!"

Dumbledore averted his eyes. "They will know the risks involved."

Shacklebolt jumped to his feet and turned to stare out of his window. "By Merlin they will! But that does not give me the right to send them off to their deaths!"

Harry broke the tension. "That is why I propose an extensive upgrade to all the wards within the stadiums. Especially those that I will be playing at." Shacklebolt turned around. "It is a risk yes, but if we take the proper precautions then we can catch him at his own game."

For a brief moment Kingsley's eyes shone; then they dimmed again. "I do understand your point of view, Harry. I would just like to keep innocent people alive to go home to their families."

Harry's head dropped in shame, but as he was about to offer his retirement from Quidditch the Minister of Sport began to speak. "This may be our only chance of snatching this ruddy bastard. Give Harry a chance and I'll personally make sure that all the stadiums are as safe as can be."

The Minister of Magic considered the words. His gaze lingered on Dumbledore. "Alright, but you will have to get the budget approved by the Wizengamot. And every player has to wear a wand at all times!"

"Of course," the Minister of Sport agreed. "We'll make this work, Kingsley."

Shacklebolt placed the tips of his fingers on the table as he loomed over the three seated men. "Remember there are families at stake."

Harry strode into the crowded Wizengamot a day after the meeting and slipped into the seat of House Black. The Potter seat remained empty as it had been since the day his father passed away, the vote alone was what counted.

Only the most careful study of Harry by a person who knew him well would have noticed that it was actually him. With blonde hair, dull brown eyes, an odd hunch and the wrinkles of a forty year old even Ginny would have walked past without looking twice.

He sat watching the older wizards and witches arguing or laughing amongst themselves throughout the room. The topic for the day's session intrigued most. The Minister of Sport was going to propose something new to the Wizengamot. Conversations halted immediately as a loud bang of wood against wood echoed through the room; the silence deafening in the wake. As one the other members sat.

"Morning." It was the age wizened voice of Albus Dumbledore. He stood in ridiculous robes of bright blue that matched the sparkling eyes behind half-moon spectacles. "I am sure you are all wondering why this meeting has been called."

"It is rather close to Christmas, Albus." Everyone chuckled, the mood in the room was rather merry.

"The House Elfs have prepared a wondrous feast at Hogwarts before my students leave and I would prefer not to miss out on their treats."

"Move along then." Someone joked. "Or go fetch us some pudding." Everyone laughed, even Harry.

"I'm getting there," Albus said with a smile. "So without further ado, I will allow the Minister of Sport, Mr Patrick Farenger, to be allowed to speak."

A short man with thick dark brown hair moved to the now vacant dais. Strong arms and shoulders emphasised the professional career as a Beater the man once had.

"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen," the rough voice of the Minister spoke, but his eyes shone. "I am sincerely sorry for the inconvenience. Your families are probably all eager to spend some time with you in this most joyous time of the year."

Several of the people nodded. They were in a good mood, but it would not last long if Farenger failed to get to the point soon.

"You have no doubt heard rumours and read reports about several rather concerning incidents during the opening few rounds of the Quidditch League this year."

"Most troubling." A moustached man said while thumping his armrest.

"Most troubling indeed." Farenger seemed to grow in confidence. "The first incident involved a cursed Bludger and then one of the pitches had nearly been invaded by a roaming group of Dementors."

Harry shivered at the memory.

"They have been dealt with." A witch spoke in a clear voice. "My group of Aurors worked tirelessly to capture them."

"An admirable job, but the fact remains that someone had the nerve and means to bring them so near to thousands of innocent spectators and players." Nearly every head nodded solemnly. "There is no need for me to expand on what could have been." Farenger paused while letting his gaze linger on every group. "We must ensure the safety of our people!" he barked out gruffly.

"And what is it that you propose, Minister Farenger?" Dumbledore asked.

"I propose that funds be allocated away from other sectors and used to finance the construction of new, more encompassing and powerful wards around not only the pitch, but the stadiums as well."

Quite murmurs broke out amongst the members of the Wizengamot. "That is a rather expensive enterprise, Minister. Do you see no other alternative?"

The man shook his head. "I fear not, Dumbledore. The man who we suspected of the first was in Azkaban during the second attack." Farenger studied the seated witches and

wizards again. "That man escaped meaning more people had to have been involved. We need to act now to ensure the safety of innocents and the sport we hold dear to our hearts!"

The members of the Wizengamot agreed eagerly. Harry raised his voice in agreement along with everyone else.

Farenger's eyes blazed triumphantly. "Do I have your support?" The witches and wizards in the room looked convinced. "Then cast your votes."

A minute later they ballots were counted and the results handed to Dumbledore. "Good," the headmaster said bowing his head. "It seems that we have the required majority. The motion is passed."

Patrick nodded as if it had only been a formality. "Then there is one last request from the Minster himself." People leaned forwards in their seats. "He asked that Quidditch league rules be changed to allow players to wear wands during games."

"That could lead to some interesting problems," Harry voiced the rehearsed question of a concerned citizen.

"Indeed, but we will also implement strict rules that will include an immediate life time banishment from the sport for improper use of a wand."

Discussions broke out amongst all the seated members. Unlike wards that improved the safety of all concerned, allowing wands constituted a fundamental change in the way the sport had been played for decades.

The results from the vote indicated the concern. Dumbledore opened the sealed letter handed to him. He stood and cleared his throat. "The motion is passed by, but not with the required majority." A lot of people seemed pleased by the result. "Very well, the rule will be implemented in the interim, but the decision will be reviewed at the end of the season. If a majority is not reached then the rules will revert back to its present state."

Dumbledore smiled as he studied the room. "I think this meeting has run its course. The matters are considered closed and motions will be investigated and then implemented. Thank you for your time and Merry Christmas."

Harry left the Ministry, his step light with the feeling that things were being done. Now he only had Ron's wedding to worry about in a few days' time.

It was a few days after the Wizengamot meeting, more importantly it was the day of Ron's wedding. "Hi, gorgeous stranger," Ginny whispered to the red haired man standing beside her.

He smiled back at her with bright blue eyes. "Little Ginny," the man replied excitedly. "I haven't seen you..."

"Too long," Ginny answered before pulling him into a hug. She held him a bit longer than would be thought common for cousins. She pulled away. Two girls giggled beside her. "Lavender, Parvarti, this is Harry Prewett my wandering cousin who never wants to spend time with me anymore."

"A pleasure, Harry," Lavender said with rapidly blinking eyes. Parvarti did little better.

"I would be here more, but you know about my awfully jealous bride to be. The woman hoards my time, it's quite dreadful really." He grinned and kissed Ginny's hand, ignoring the two young women beside them.

"You will have to promise me a dance," Ginny said quickly. "Since you are free from that awful witch for the day."

"But of course, my dear cousin. I shall save the first for you." Harry winked. "But I really must see to poor cousin Ron. The poor lad might dress in his Cannon's jersey if left unattended for but a moment."

Ginny's mouth opened in horror; then she laughed. "He would wouldn't he?"

"Until the ceremony." Harry bowed while bidding farewell and she watched him walk away. The limp, courtesy of Malfoy, was almost gone. He looked dashing in his wizard's robes, but the red hair and blue eyes ruined the image. His green eyes and black hair could melt her with a single gaze.

"Is he really taken?" Lavender moaned, breaking Ginny's study of Harry.

Ginny nodded, fingering the invisible wand strapped to her forearm. "Yes, his bride is a rather nasty piece of work when angry. Best let the man enjoy the evening in peace." The two women still did not look away from the retreating Harry. "You're wasting your time, he loves her." She studied the growing crowd on the lawn below. "Why don't you go talk to my brother Charlie?" Her eyes sparkled. "He works with Dragons."

Their eyes snapped away from Harry and immediately went searching for Charlie. "Dragons? That must make for a tough man," Parvati said in a low voice. "Is he?" She pointed at a tall red haired man.

"That's Charlie," Ginny said with a smile. "He's definitely single."

The girls vanished and Ginny let out a relieved breath. She was finally free to go help Hermione.

The bride sat before the mirror in Ginny's room. The usually bushy brown hair had been tamed. It hung in long curly tendrils down her back and across her shoulder. Mrs Granger ran about the room fussing about everything in a very Hermione like fashion. But the woman in white sat in utter silence.

Ginny's own reflection stared back at her from the mirror. The strapless dress flowed down all the way to her ankles. A small slit on one side went up to her mid-thigh. The material deep blue, Hermione's colour for the wedding. It probably wasn't perfect for

Ginny's complexion, but she had to admit that the dress brought out her feminine side and made for a nice change from all the Quidditch jerseys.

"You made it," Hermione said after realising Ginny had entered. "I was getting worried. I really need someone around me who isn't panicked."

Ginny took a few steps across the room and came to stand next to her friend. "You look beautiful," she whispered. Hermione tried to smile, but it only emphasised her nervousness.

"I'll never be able to repeat after the Minister." Hermione moaned. "What comes first, do we kiss then give rings? Or do the 'I do's' come first?"

Ginny rested her hand on her friend's shoulder. "The Minister will guide you Hermione. He's done it a hundred times and I'm sure he'll make sure everything is done at the proper time and in the correct order." Ginny laughed. "Besides, I'm sure you've got the entire event well-rehearsed in your mind."

"But Ginny..."

Ginny interjected her friend's tirade. "When you exit the backdoor with your father holding your arm you'll have nothing in your mind but Ron; who will be standing there by the alter. And Harry will be there to keep Ron rooted."

Hermione laughed. "And you'll definitely not be looking at him, or should I say your red haired cousin."

Ginny grinned mischievously. "I might let my eyes dally for a moment or two."

Hermione tried to look serious. "Just try to keep your hands to yourself. Just imagine the scandal. Drunk Quidditch star, Ginny Weasley, caught snogging cousin."

The thought sobered Ginny, even though Hermione had only been joking. Not for the first time she wished that she and Harry could just be themselves, but with Malfoy walking free the decision had been taken out of their hands.

She plastered a smile on her face. This was Hermione's day. "I'll feel sorry for the printers at the Prophet if they tried to print the scandal. Imagine trying to print so much Weasley red on a single page."

She gripped Hermione's bare shoulder softly as the bride grew tense. "You'll be great out there and before you can blink you'll be gone on that honeymoon; then before you catch your breath you'll be sitting in your new library reading a book while Ron is out flying in the garden." The scenario proved easier to stomach than more typical newlywed activities.

Hermione giggled nervously, probably guessing what Ginny was avoiding, as her father entered. "It's time ladies."

"Good luck," Ginny whispered.

Harry, together with Mr Weasley, tried desperately to calm Ron down. It proved even more difficult than Harry had predicted.

"I can't do this, mate," Ron said loudly. "I mean she is too perfect." He paced about the room.

"She is probably sitting there calmly waiting for this to start, Ron. You've got nothing to fear."

"She's so beautiful. I'll never be able to make her happy." Ron threw his arms up into the air. Harry waved Riddle's wand and deflected the glass of juice his friend knocked over before it could stain his new dress robes. "Merlin, Harry, I'm not smart enough to be married to a girl like Hermione."

"She's smart enough to see what a great guy you are," Harry said. He could see the grateful look from Arthur. The man had been unsuccessfully trying for some time before Harry's arrival to settle his son down. "She knows you, Ron, and she loves you."

Ron stopped pacing and faced Harry. "Does she?"

"Of course she does, you daft prat!" Harry almost shouted as he tried not to laugh out loud at his amusement over his friend's antics. He could only hope that he did not act like this in a few months' time.

"Right, of course she does." Ron grinned stupidly.

Harry clapped him on the shoulder. "Now we better get out there. Or you'll be walking down the aisle, arm linked with me, as I hand you over to Hermione."

"Right, I'm moving!" Ron shouted as he hurriedly grabbed his jacket and shot out the door.

Mr. Weasley rested a grateful hand on Harry's shoulder. "Thanks."

"No problem, Arthur."

A minute later the two men were standing at the altar. The guests were beginning to flood towards the white chairs arranged in neat rows. Harry stood anxiously beside Ron as witches and wizards came over to offer their congratulations and condolences, depending on the gender. Ron stuttered and slurred his way through responses.

Then the moment came. The music changed and the door opened. Ginny, dressed in her bridesmaid's dress came out first. Her long flowing red hair bounced about her shoulders and shone from the warm afternoon light illuminating it. Her shoulders were bare, something that would not have been possible if not for the complex and tiring heating charm over the venue. Her smile grew wider when she saw him. Harry could feel his own face stretch.

She walked with poise, managing to cover the ground between house and alter quickly without making it look rushed; the flat shoes helped. As she approached her gaze never wavered from his and Harry had a hard time imagining her in anything other than white.

Just before she veered off to the left, she mouthed, "love you." Harry fought the urge to send a kiss back, but since he was facing the guests it might not have been prudent. Perhaps he should've just come as her mystery boyfriend, but that might still happen when the things grew a bit more relaxed and informal. Standing at the altar would have too many people looking and asking questions.

Mrs. Granger, accompanied by Charlie since she had no son, followed closely behind. Harry had not even noticed the pair emerge from the house. In fact he had still been staring at Ginny long after she'd stopped walking.

Her firm athletic body and infectious smile had him all too captivated. Forcing his gaze away from the most beautiful woman alive, he faced the house and the faint hint of a white dress.

The music changed once again and everyone stood. Mr. Granger emerged dressed immaculately in a new Muggle suit and dark blue tie that matched Ginny's dress and Ron's own tie. Hermione, face veiled, stood tall and proud alongside her father. Through the thin material covering her face, Harry saw nothing but a broad, if somewhat nervous smile.

Her dress was perfect and suited her form. It was slightly off white, but it blended well with her natural brown hair. A single glance at her mother proved that the dress had been just as perfect for mother as daughter.

They walked much slower than the rushing Ginny and Harry could only imagine what his friend was going through. Chancing a glance at Ron, he saw a gobsmacked look of utter wonder in his face. But Harry felt the same. Hermione, as he'd come to realise over the past months, really could be a most beautiful woman when she tried. Though, they all preferred and loved the rushing Hermione with messy brown hair and book under arm or nose. It was nice, however, to see her shine everyone once in a while.

The ceremony passed quickly and soon the guests began to settle down at the various tables while Ron and Hermione disappeared with the photographer. It would be a moment of peace and quiet.

Ginny stood slightly alone, seeing as she did not have an official date for the wedding. Her eyes met Harry's and she motioned towards the house. It was a subtle gesture and it needed to be. A few of the younger, single, wizards were having a very hard time keeping their eyes off her.

In the distance, Harry casually raised a glass in response while he was talking to some bald wizard who'd cornered him. Harry was well aware of her predicament and they had discussed it. It might be time to switch plans.

She tapped her champagne glass with a nail as she wandered, seemingly aimlessly through the crowd. Unfortunately, her time away from hormone driven teen boys was not going to last.

"Ginny," a guy called out, looking all too smug with himself. She narrowed her eyes. He looked vaguely familiar, but she never really paid any attention to the kids outside her year. Quidditch had been all consuming and if not for Harry, still would be.

"Hi," she replied trying to be friendly.

"A lovely lady like yourself should not be without a wizard." He spoke in an overly fake deep voice. It sounded almost like he already had her mounted as some trophy on a bedroom wall or a notch on his wooden bed.

"I'm quite alright, thank you," she said a bit curtly. Her gaze lifted to Harry and she tapped her glass a few times in a casual manner again. He gave a short nod and hurried towards the house.

The young man before her laughed loudly as if she'd just made a huge joke. "Come now, Ginny. A bright star like you needs someone as wonderful..."

She did have a man who could stand by her and together she and Harry were equals. "I'm sorry, but I really do need to be going." Ginny said as she slipped passed him. He touched her shoulder, but she managed to shrug it off. It did, however, leave a sickening feeling deep in her stomach.

It took all of two steps before another idiot came to stand before her. "You really are a wonder of natural beauty," the dark haired boy whispered. "Would you do me the honour of telling me your name?" His eyes were glossed over in obvious fawning.

She rolled her eyes. "I think you already know me." With a huff she withdrew. Her breathing grew slightly more erratic and a tension began to build in her. People were crowding all around, tall and staring down at her. She hurriedly pushed past them. Harry was nowhere to be seen any more. She searched around frantically.

"Ginny. A pretty lady..." she rushed away from the voice.

She kept her head down and muscled her way through another group. "Don't let them get to you," Ginny whispered to herself.

Someone coughed. "A flower so rare needs..." The voice faded into the distance.

Her eyes were slightly wide and searching. Slowly her mind was descending into a darkness of damp corridors all leading towards a vast underground room. Each voice she heard began to sound like Tom. Traps laid down to lure her away from safety.

The crowds and the growing attention made her remember just why she'd never done much with friends and why she avoided parties. It always ended up being too much to handle.

Despite her growing fears she still managed a calm exterior. All the while desperately searching for Harry, he was supposed to be here for her. Her palms grew moist and her fingers gripped the champagne glass, amazingly it did not shatter.

"Easy there, Ginny." The voice warm and inviting. It brought with it a sense of home and comfort. A gentle hand rested comfortably on the small of her back. She sighed and leaned back against the warmth.

"I should be angry, Harry," Ginny whispered.

His hand moved up along her back and rubbed a bare shoulder. "I got stuck in a conversation with an Aunt Muriel. I don't think she believed me to be family."

The heaviness over her heart began to ease. A light began to shine in the deepest recesses of her mind. "She does love to know everything about everyone. I'll get mum to talk to her before she goes barmy."

She moved away slightly and turned in his arms. Harry's hair was back to a familiar black, but the features of his face were different and his eyes a dark blue. The painful scar he always hid was visible. He was almost unrecognisable.

"Harry Evans," Ginny whispered to him and he grinned.

"Merlin, why are there so many Harrys in your life? Is there something you need to tell me, Ginny?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

She tried for a sweet and innocent expression. "No." Her eyelashes fluttered. "But I could use another drink."

"Of course, my lady." Harry bowed extravagantly and vanished.

"Hi, Ginny." She rolled her eyes, but turned to face the man who spoke. "I have not seen you since graduating from Hogwarts." It was not that the man sounded or seemed ridiculous, it was just that he was not Harry. He held out a drink towards her.

She stared at the champagne. All the while trying to find words that would help. "No thanks, Harry's gone to get me one."

"Whose Harry?" he asked with narrowed eyes.

"He's me." Ginny relaxed again.

"And you are?" This time the man definitely sounded defensive. She narrowed her eyes trying to place the face.

"I'm me and you are?" Harry grinned jokingly while holding out the glass for Ginny to take. She liked that Harry didn't try to be possessive. He simply appeared and allowed her to explain their relationship.

"Neville Longbottom."

Harry held out his hand. "Evans, Harry Evans." Neville shook it grudgingly. Ginny tried to place the young man. He was very familiar, probably one of Ron's friends.

He glanced between Ginny and Harry. "And..."

"Well Harry is with me," Ginny answered as she slipped and arm around his waist.

Neville looked resigned, but did not run away. "I'm sorry, I was under the impression you were single. Or at least that rumours of a boyfriend a story."

"I like to keep things quiet." She dropped her arm and let her hand slip into Harry's. "The public eye can be very frustrating."

The man laughed, this time it was not forced. "I can imagine. I prefer my time with plants, they don't garner you nearly as much attention as Snitches, Quaffles and Bludgers."

"Longbottom?" Harry said suddenly. "You wouldn't be related of Frank and Alice."

"My mum and dad." Neville seemed slightly taken aback.

"I've heard much about them. It's an honour to meet their son."

"You, you know about them?" Neville stuttered. "Were you in the Order?"

Harry nodded slowly. "My condolences, I've heard they were great people."

"The finest," Neville replied with a hint of pride.

Silence descended over the three. Harry broke eye contact with Neville and glanced about. "So when do you think our two esteemed hosts will return?"

"Should be here any moment," Neville replied. "Unless they decided to start the honeymoon a bit early."

"Won't blame them with this crowd," Ginny rolled her eyes. Her wedding would definitely be smaller, much smaller.

The small diversion worked and Ginny watched on in silence as Harry began to discuss various plants with Neville. She stopped listening after a few minutes as the topic quickly surpassed her OWL level knowledge. It did, however, amaze her how easily Harry could interact with people when he wanted to. She supposed it was easier when people didn't think you famous or cursed.

Hermione and Ron eventually appeared and the whole family was quickly taken to a secluded corner of the garden where they could take some family photos. The seclusion allowed Harry to remove his charms. Hermione, and Ginny as well did not want anything but the real Harry in any of wedding photos.

The meal past quickly and before Ginny really registered anything the dance floor had been opened by a slightly flat footed Ron and awkward Hermione. But the dance still remained perfect.

"Care for a dance?" Ginny asked Harry.

He looked terribly unsure of himself, but agreed after the dance floor filled enough for them to hide amongst the masses. After leading her to the middle he slipped an arm around her back and took hold of her right hand. He stood tall and firm before her.

It took a few minutes for them to really get comfortable with each other's dancing. But once they'd adjusted Harry managed to lead her gracefully. The music faded into the distance, her attention wholly on Harry as he weaved them between the more stationary couples.

Eventually the song faded and a much slower rhythm floated out from the band. Harry grinned and brought her in close. "I think I like dancing with you a lot."

"I think I might be liking this to," Ginny replied.

"Might?" He looked down, eyes wide. "Funny, Weasley."

She grinned. "The look on your face was worth the taunt."

He raised an arm and led her through a turn. She spun round, noticing the emptying floor, and returned to him; their bodies hugging as his right leg passed between hers. Their eyes mere inches apart. "Beautiful," he whispered and she felt a blush rise.

His body moved again and she followed not even sure what they were doing or what dance this was. She'd never gone past the waltz. This was slow, intimate. She could feel his love for her radiating from his expression and the way his body moved with hers. They were one, flowing with the music and each other.

He spun her out again and the coldness of being away gripped her, only to be burned away as he brought her back with a firm pull. They collided softly, legs intertwined, and paused. It seemed to last forever; her chest rose and fell as she inhaled. Their hips, almost as if one moved together, forwards to the side and then back. The process repeated.

Regretfully the music had to stop and Harry had to let go. He took her hand and led her from the dance floor and out into the garden. Neither said anything. Words were not needed.

The evening passed quickly after that, but by the end of it Ginny was sure that an article about her and the mysterious Harry Evans would be in the Witch Weekly before the end of the week. The Prophet might even have an article the next day.

It was almost lunch time when Ginny arrived back from a morning spent with Harry in the Muggle world. As always it proved a good escape from the attention fame brought in Diagon Alley. Especially since they were still waiting for the newest arrival of the

Witch Weekly, which would probably feature some gossip about Ginny's date at her brother's wedding.

With Ron's wedding in the past and only hers to look forward to, Ginny would need to focus on hers, more importantly the dress. As she entered the Burrow the daunting task greeted her as nothing more than neat piles of silk and lace. Everything surrounded the room in organised groups. Her mother, a woman not perturbed by lack of progress, sat before a conjured table in the living room hard at work.

"Hi, mum," Ginny greeted after a cursory glance about. The piles seemed only to grow taller with each passing second.

Her mother's hands stopped working. A frown of concentration morphed into a brief smile as she stood. "Ginny, you're early. I still thought I had an hour." The words were rushed as she began to move about in search of another misplaced item.

Ginny, hands tucked into the pockets of her jeans, tentatively edged further into the room. "I told Harry to go keep himself busy." She jabbed the point of her shoe against a small box wondering what could be hidden inside. "Anything I can help with?"

Her mother stopped and looked up while lost in thought. Eventually her mind seemed to register the question when she pointed to an empty corner. "Measurements first, dear." Barely a glance had been sent in Ginny's direction, who now found herself glued to the floor. The lack of movement made her mother pause, the hurried expression softened. "If you need a minute, we could definitely do with some tea."

"Tea?" Ginny replied mechanically; not really hearing her mother. "I'll make us some. Do you want some, mum?" Her mother's eyes shone with amusement and understanding.

"That would be lovely. I could use the extra minute."

Ginny turned slowly and began to walk towards the kitchen. She paused to face the mountain of work that lay about and at the partly cut pieces of raw silk.

"It's a start," Mrs Weasley voiced Ginny's thoughts. "I know it looks daunting, but we'll get it done."

"Rather frightening actually," Ginny whispered. "But wonderful at the same time."

Her mother dropped what she had been busy with and led a rather stiff Ginny into the kitchen. "We have lots of time to finish the dress. We'll take it one step at a time and before you know it everything will be finished."

Once in the kitchen Ginny poured water into the kettle and placed it on the stove only to sit and watch as it magically began to heat. "Have you heard from Ron?"

"No." Her mother shook her head.

"Oh, I suppose we'll hear something eventually." Ginny sighed. "But the ceremony was wonderful."

A tear accompanied by a smile formed and slid down her mother's cheek. "It was beautiful. I can hardly wait to have a decent look at the photos." She laughed, eyes sparkling. "You and Harry made quite the couple on the dance floor."

"I lost count of the times I stepped on his feet."

"Nonsense, dear. You two made it look almost as graceful as your flying."

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Now I know you're lying."

Her mother waved a hand at Ginny in a placating gesture. "Nonsense, Ginny. You had many an eye follow you around."

Ginny huffed. "Mostly boys leering I suppose."

"There were some, yes. But you are famous Ginny and unfortunately that does come with the territory."

"I know." She placed her forehead on the table. "It would be half bearable if not for… you know."

A hand touched her shoulder. "We know." The events of her first year as always remained unspoken.

The kettle boiled and her mother left to prepare a pot of tea. Ginny took a deep breath, focused on the task at hand, and stood to join her mother. A smile had formed on her lips. The tension of moments before slowly began to ebb away leaving nothing but a pleasant, eager silence.

"So, what is it about Harry?" her mother asked.

Ginny, holding the cup in both hands, took a small sip of hot, sweet tea. "Everything." It was an answer easily given, but Ginny knew her mother wanted more. "I could go on about how handsome he is and his records as a player. Maybe even describe his intense green eyes, stupid grin or perhaps the way his hair is never able to lie flat." She placed the cup on the table and looked at her mother. "He understands and loves me for who I am. He's seen me at my weakest, at my most frail, and he was there to help. He's seen me at my best and made sure my head didn't grow too big. Both of us were touched by the same evil, both of us fought and overcame it." She stopped, took her cup again, and drank. "In a way we complete each other."

"Your father is much the same. I don't think there could ever be a man who understands me better." She placed her empty cup on the table and smiled. "Now we really do need to start those measurements."

Ginny groaned theatrically. "Do we have to, mum?"

"Yes, dear," Mrs Weasley replied with a grin.

The measurements were double and triple checked since they were done without magical assistance.

"Good," her mother spoke as she wrote down the last measurement. "I think we've got enough material for two dresses." She shook her head. Ginny had been rather petite even before she'd begun to play professional Quidditch.

"Gives us some room to play with," Ginny proclaimed and began laying out the material on the table, which grew accordingly.

"Some, there's room for twins." Her mother's eyes narrowed and went to Ginny's stomach.

"What! No, there are no twins. Merlin, there's not even one."

Her mother eyed her a while longer. Ginny avoided further questions by continuing to work. She began to place the various patterns on top of the silk and together they methodically created each individual piece of her dress. Never once was magic used or even considered. It proved a bane to Ginny's back and hands, which were unused to such tasks.

By late afternoon all the pieces were neatly cut and stowed away so that no harm could befall them. Her mother had also organised everything they would need once they started the actual process of stitching. The sun was setting when everything was finally stowed away.

"Now it's time to decorate the house," her mother clapped joyfully.

"What?" Ginny asked. "Haven't you worked me hard enough already?"

"It's Christmas eve, Ginny. The world hasn't stopped for your wedding dress you know."

She sagged in defeat, feeling the aches and pains. "Can I go get Harry? He can help. I bet he is dying to get out of his flat."

"Of course, dear. It would be lovely to have him over."

Outside the light of day had long since passed, but Harry continued to run about the Burrow with decorations of all shapes and sizes. Where Molly had stashed it all boggled his mind for a few brief minutes until he remembered that they were magical and so could hides things just about anywhere.

Ginny brushed passed him with a jovial laugh. She was practically bouncing about and her entire body glowed with the purest joy. It was not the pregnant type glow, well he

hoped not, but just one of absolute happiness and excitement. It contrasted sharply with the glum face that had come to fetch him a few hours earlier.

He reached out and pulled her closer for a soft kiss. "You look more beautiful than ever."

She blushed and squirmed free. "Lots to do." Her ever widening smile proved infectious as she rushed away to help Molly on the far side of the room. A minute later Ginny was back, eyes bright. "I love you to, Harry." This time she was the one to kiss him lightly on the lips before vanishing again.

The Burrow of the wedding was gone. In its place stood a warm home filled with glowing charms of all imaginable colours; though red did seem more prominent than others. A tree filled a once empty corner and presents began to appear beneath it.

As he stood, the small form of Ginny wrapped herself around his waist. "They really put a lot of love and thought into everything."

Ginny's grip around his middle tightened. "We never get anything big, but they come from the heart."

Harry nodded slowly. "Sirius was always about big. The most expensive broom, the largest box… Gwenog was great and she loves me in her way." He let out a long sigh. "Yet, however much I loved him and still love her I never felt like this before." The charms around the room became blurry. "For the first time…" his throat grew constricted. "I know what a Christmas with my family would have been like."

"You are family to us, Harry." She moved around to rest her head against his chest. "And one day we will have our own family to celebrate with."

He placed a tender kiss against her forehead. There was so much to say, but nothing left his lips. It proved enough to do nothing more than enjoy the feeling of being held and being loved. Something he realised he'd never had before Ginny.

The following morning, Harry found himself sitting in the middle of a very crowded and noisy room. "Is it always this busy?" Harry asked.

Ginny laughed. "Busy? Harry this is the quietest Christmas we've ever had."

"Quiet?" He shook his head. "Why am I having a hard time believing you?"

"Think about it. Ron and Hermione are not here. Bill and Fleur are with her parents. Fred and George, thank Merlin, are not here." She glanced about. "It's only Charlie with his newest girlfriend and Percy with his wife."

Harry whistled softly to himself. "Right, add another eight people into the mix…" His eyes widened. "Merlin, it must be wonderful!"

"If you call being pranked every few minutes because it proved impossible to keep tabs on my beloved twin brothers wonderful, then yes."

Pondering the idea, Harry leaned back as Ginny wiggled her way beneath his arm to rest her cheek on his chest. A pile of wrapping paper lay beside him. Looking around he could see similar heaps lying alongside everyone else in the room. Arthur and Molly were talking happily to Percy. Charlie stood to one side trying to figure out the intricate item his girlfriend had given him while she stood talking to Percy's wife.

"I still think I would love it," Harry whispered against her head.

"Do you really?" she asked.

"I'd like to think so, yes."

She pushed herself away from his chest. "Why?" Her expression a mix of sincere confusion and interest.

"Because you all love each other and it shows."

She glanced down at his neck. He reached up and touched the badly knitted scarf. "What?"

Her nose scrunched up. "That thing is horrendous."

He leaned forwards and brushed his lips against hers. "It's the best thing I've ever gotten for Christmas." The reply completely honest.

"Mum's jersey is better," she complained.

"Perhaps, but I love yours more. I even love it even more than the ridiculously expensive Firebolt my godfather gave me one year."

"Why?" she asked. "I'd have given anything for a gift like that."

"Because you made it. However much I love your mother's sweater she's made dozens of perfect ones. This scarf is unique. It's something you've made only for me."

She still looked unsatisfied. "Probably the first and last time I knit something. But you can't be serious about the broom."

"Why not? Sirius had tons of money. He simply walked into the store, asked for the most expensive and best broom and bought it." Harry paused to take a breath. "It came from the heart, yes. But your scarf is special, you made it for me and that, Ginny, is what makes the difference."

He laughed lightly and pulled her into a hug. "Love you, Ginny." She pressed herself even closer to him. "So do you like your gift?" he asked nervously.

"It's perfect." He glanced down at her lap where her one hand was playing with the silver charm bracelet he'd bought for her. A small broomstick hung on it - the only charm. "Now you'll have a lifetime to fill it."

"More like a lifetime of memories to use as inspiration," he replied.

"Hmmm." She nodded. "I'm thinking a nice Quidditch Cup would do well to complement the broom."

"In your dreams, Ginny," he said loudly. "I was thinking more along the lines of a runners up mug."

She elbowed him in the ribs. "You just wait and see, Mr Potter."

To everyone's amusement the friendly argument quickly turned into an all-out tickle war. One that Harry lost soundly, or so it was judged as he had apparently laughed the loudest.

The laughter died down when an owl flew through the open doorway and deposited a copy of the Witch Weekly's Christmas addition. It took only a single glance at the cover to have everyone laughing again.

"Merlin!" Harry coughed out loud. "Is that us?"

Ginny grabbed the magazine and threw it behind the Christmas tree. "There'll be plenty of time to read it later. Today is about family, not gossip." He held up his hands defensively.

Her mother clapped her hands together. "I think it is about time for lunch."

Charlie leapt to his feet eagerly and practically shoved Susan, his tall blonde girlfriend out the door to where the food was waiting. "Relax, Charlie! The foods not going to vanish."

He faced Susan. "You never know with my family. Ron could sweep down from the sky and swipe a chicken. Fred and George could pop in and charm a potato into their newest prank. Open a door to find Bill's charmed it into an Egyptian tomb with mummies who like pork." By this time Susan was trying hard to not laugh out loud. The hand covering her mouth kept them to short snorts. He simply glared at her.

Ginny rushed past Harry and leaned against Charlie. "I'm with him. Those other brothers of ours can be very sneaky. At least Percy only bores us to death with cauldron bottoms."

"I do not!" Percy huffed indignantly.

His wife patted his arm. "Stop being so modest, Percy. Your gift at making men and women fall asleep is quite remarkable."

"I do not." He spluttered. "They do not fall…"

Susan, who had trouble containing herself, was clutching her stomach from laughing.

Percy straightened. "At least I can discuss things, unlike Charlie who only thinks about dragons." Susan coughed. "And pretty faces."

Susan touched her chest. "Percy, I'm flattered. I never knew you liked me."

His face went red. "I… I never said any such thing, Susan."

Percy's wife frowned and everyone sobered quickly. She shook her head as the silence grew absolute. "I'm disappointed, Percy." She tisked loudly, walking closer to him. His eyes widened. "Usually you have them all snoring by now."

Charlie snorted then howled with laughter as he held onto Susan for support. Ginny, lips parted, stood shaking her head. It took a while to get Charlie back down to earth. When he finally managed to wipe away the tears Mrs Weasley had lunch ready.

Before going to sit, Harry locked his arms around Ginny. "Thank you."

"For what?" she asked.

"Taking a chance on me."

The radio crackled loudly only to crystallise into the familiar voice of Bobby. "Welcome back listeners to the second half of the season. It's the time of year when things really start to become exiting. What do you say, Peter?"

"Couldn't agree more, Bobby. The teams are lined up and ready to take the fight to their opponents. This is the last round of the season before the semi-finals and Merlin do the top teams know it."

"Indeed they do, Peter. Sadly it will be the last game for eight of the twelve teams, but the start of another journey for the remaining four."

"And what a journey remains! As it stands now it will definitely be the Harpies and Arrows who progress through to the semi-finals as they are both untouchable at the top of Group A."

"They have been formidable all season and the game this month will determine who ends up at the top of their log. The position of which should never be under estimated. With strong teams in Group B, neither the Harpies nor the Arrows would want to face the winner."

"As you say, Bobby, Group B has also seen similar dominance by two teams. The Kestrels lie on top, and like the Harpies carry maximum points into the final round. The Cannons are looking dangerous as always with Potter in the mix. They had a troubled start to the season, losing their Seeker and having Wood retire as player and captain.

The question remains; will they be able to come to terms with a well-crafted team like the Kestrels?"

"I believe they have the talent, Peter. It just boils down to which team wants it more during the game. With Potter flying the Kestrels will want to put on a good lead quickly and hope to close out the game."

"That will be on their minds, but their Seeker will surely fancy his chances seeing that he has caught every Snitch this year."

"All that I can say is that both games will be well worth the price of admission."

"Thanks for joining this short broadcast. We hope to see you at the stadiums during the coming days for the closing games of the season."

Harry lay in bed, body stiff and bruised, staring up at the ceiling. He'd taken a nasty tumble during the game against the Kestrels, but managed to catch the Snitch somewhere between the ground and his broom to close out the game. It was a good win even if he would be feeling the effects of it for the rest of the week.

A soft pop came from the inside the flat. "Harry?" Ginny called out from the living room. "You awake?"

At first he did not move or reply. "Almost," Harry called back as he slipped out from beneath the duvet; the movement eliciting a slight wince. The team Healer did a good job as always, but some things still took time to heal unfortunately.

Ginny, eyes narrowed with concern and anger, entered the room. "I'm fine." He raised a hand in defence before she could ask. Her eyebrow rose in question. "Really?" He pecked her cheek and hobbled ungracefully around her towards the bathroom.

"You don't look fine," she called from behind as he brushed his teeth.

He rinsed his mouth and quickly washed his face. "I might be a bit stiff but nothing a few days won't heal." She entered the bathroom. He turned and wrapped both arms around her. "You saw me after the game yesterday."

"And been worried sick all night, Potter." Her voice firm.

He accepted the rebuke. "I'll try to avoid another stunt like that."

Ginny laughed, eyes hinting at humour. "No you won't, Harry."

He chuckled, smile growing wide. "I tried."

"Prat." She stuck out her tongue and vanished back into his room. "Just try to fall less than twenty feet next time."

A few minutes later Harry left the bathroom after taking a hot shower. The running water helped ease bruised muscles.

He walked out of the room, hair still damp to find Ginny sitting by the kitchen table reading the Prophet. "So what happened in the other games?"

She glanced up and smiled. "You look better."

"Feel better," he agreed before sitting down beside her without suffering too much.

"The Bats thumped the Magpies. The Catapults barely lost out to the Falcons. Portree scrounged a win against United by grabbing the Snitch and the Wasps beat the Tornadoes even though they failed to get the Snitch."

Harry poured a cup of tea while she spoke and nodded his head slowly as she finished. "And you destroyed the Arrows by 320 points." He squeezed her hand. "That was an amazing game."

She blushed and continued to read the article. "So we are to play the Kestrels next month and you the Arrows."

"Walk in the park."

"Better be," Ginny remarked and pointed at her Christmas present. "I still want that Cup charm for my bracelet as it looks rather empty with just a broom."

"Dream on, dear," Harry teased. "The Cannons have the season wrapped up. It's all a matter of waiting for the Minister to hand it to my waiting hands."

"You just have one very small problem."

"And that is?" Harry asked while looking deep into her brown mischievous eyes.

"Little old me."

He leaned across the table and let his lips move across hers before pulling away quickly. "We'll see."

"Love you to, Harry." Her face radiant.

He leaned back in his chair and laughed. "I really can't wait to thrash you out on the field." Ginny shook her head, but he could sense the unease, the very slight insecurity in her movements. The memory of all those defeats in training had to be weighing her down. "Relax, you've learned a lot since the summer."

She nodded and the determination he loved about her returned. Those brown eyes narrowed and he knew the game was on. "Did I ever tell you how much I love you?" Harry asked.

She glanced up at the ceiling thoughtfully. "No, I don't think so." He narrowed his lips, then playfully tossed a piece of cold, hard toast at her.

"That's it!" She shouted, hands moving in a blur. A piece of jam covered bread stuck itself to his cheek. He leapt to his feet, but not quickly enough to avoid a flying piece of bacon.

Harry woke two hours later and rolled over only to find Ginny's side of the bed empty. He sat up, rubbed a hand through ruffled hair, and tried to remember how he and Ginny had ended up in bed. The last coherent thought had been the decision to leap across the table at her.

"Harry!" Ginny shouted.

He stood only to see her firm legs, barely covered by the shirt she wore. He finally managed to swallow and ask, "What is it, Ginny?"

She held up the paper. "The final! It's been moved back by two weeks."

"What?" he said in bewilderment. "But that means..."

"It will be a week after the wedding," she moaned. "As if I don't have enough stress as it is already."

He dropped down onto the bed, closed his eyes, and tried his utmost to not smile. He'll not be flying against Ginny his girlfriend, but Ginny his wife.

"Stop smiling, Potter. This is not funny."

The grin vanished. "Never said it was." He glanced up at her. "But it'll make the final so much more interesting."

The paper in her hand dropped to the floor. "And why would it be so much more interesting, Harry?"

"Because I'll get to win one over on my wife."

Her hands moved onto her hips. "Or I'll get bragging rights over you, darling." The tone of her voice made him swallow and for the first time since he'd won the Cup years ago, Harry began to doubt himself. Her lips moved into a cruel smile. "I really must be getting better, because for a moment I really thought you'd grown a bit scared of me."

His voice cracked. "Scared, of your flying… Never!"

She inhaled. "You know it's not good to lie to yourself, Harry. Be honest…" She walked seductively towards him, hips swaying. "You… are… frightened… of… loosing… against me."

The last words were spoken so softly he'd not have heard them had she not settled herself down on top of his lap. The shirt glided upwards, exposing smooth thighs. His

defences crumbled at the first touch. "Perhaps a little…" He kissed her cheek. "You can be very intimidating you know."

She tilted her chin upwards, allowing easier access to the soft skin of her neck. Her hand moved along his body until coming to rest against his chest. With a firm shove he was forced back against the bed. With Ginny towering above all rational thought dissolved - again.

Tired from a hard days practise and weary of the rising threat to his world, Harry trudged his way towards a meeting which might decide his future. The location proved to be a rundown little cottage on the outskirts of a small English village that contained little more than a couple of houses and an all important pub.

He pushed open the creaky old door to find the inside rather crowded. Some people sat around a large table, though most stood talking in hushed voices. Those whispers stopped the moment Harry entered.

Few people were known to Harry, but they had all fought in the war. Kingsley Shacklebolt the Minister, Patrick Farenger the Minister of Sport and Albus Dumbledore were the most prominent of those seated. Beside them sat Tonks, who'd become a senior Auror, as well as Arthur, Bill, Charlie and Ron. Molly was at home helping Ginny despite the protests from both. Though the wavered since the dress was apparently behind schedule.

"Evening," Harry managed to say. The words filled the silence and the tension broke just enough to get people talking again. Harry quickly made his way to an empty seat beside Dumbledore.

It felt uncomfortable sitting amongst so many men and women who had sacrificed so much to help win the war and yet knowing almost nothing about any of them. They were all people with stories and families. For now he could only wish that he would learn more someday in the future.

Dumbledore stood and the room grew still once again. "Thank you for attending this meeting. I am sure most of you will be wondering why you have been asked to come here tonight." Heads nodded all around. "The reason is something most of you are familiar with; Lucius Malfoy." The faces of all present grew grim. Nothing good ever happened when that name was mentioned. "Again you might also be wondering, especially the Aurors amongst you, why this isn't being dealt with by the Ministry."

"Because they botched it up last time!" A smallish man called from the back.

Dumbledore smiled indulgently. "Perhaps, but rather it is because we suspect there to be a mole within the Ministry. For that reason Kingsley and I decided it best we do this through the Order."

A man pointed at Patrick. "Then what's he doing here?"

"Our current line of thought involves him as he is the only man with the Authority to push the legislation."

The group did not look any more pleased, but they let the meeting continue. Harry understood; the Order had grown into a tight knit group in which they implicitly trusted those within. Outsiders were a risk.

Dumbledore began to outline the plan.

"Are you sure he will be trying something at the final?" Shacklebolt spoke in his booming voice. "I still think it too public for Malfoy!"

Harry deciding it was perhaps time to speak opened his mouth. "I think that is precisely why he intends to do it at the final. He has nothing more, people know what he is. There is one thing on his mind, my downfall to be witnessed, his triumph recorded for all time."

"Then don't fly." This time it was Tonks, hair bright red with anger, who spoke. "Keep yourself hidden, Harry! We'll take care of this with time."

"No." Harry said shaking his head vigorously; though he managed a smile in her direction. "I appreciate your consideration. This is our best hope, however. We know he is coming for me. We know when. We have the upper hand."

The people around the table broke out into various discussions and arguments. Harry sat back and tried to listen. The group definitely seemed divided on what to do.

"The wards around the pitch would be very strong." Bill was the one to speak now. He knew Ginny would probably be at the game. "We'll keep anything and anybody away from the pitch."

"Precisely." It was Tonks who spoke. "If the idiot tries to blink at the wards we'll snatch him and drag his arse all the way to Azkaban."

Dumbledore frowned, but the Minister spoke. "How sure are you of being able to keep anybody from entering the field, Bill?"

"Very," Bill said with confidence. "I've spoken with the Goblins and they are willing to lend us some fairly nice warding stones. If we can place them with some secrecy then I'm confident that no unauthorised person would be able to enter the pitch."

Dumbledore seemed to accept this answer. The Minster of Sport, however, did not look so convinced. "I don't know, Bill. We have no way of knowing how this is going work."

"I am…"

"No, I will not risk my players to some chance Goblin rune!" The strong man interjected. "I need proof of this. You will have to explain everything to me."

Bill, looking slightly insulted, bit back a remark. "Perhaps we can test the Warding stone at the semi-finals. That will give you two tests."

Shacklebolt stood, fingers resting on the table. "I'm not sure about testing the stones. It will give him an opportunity to learn about them."

Patrick stood and stared defiantly up at Shacklebolt. "I must disagree. You cannot put my league or players at risk using some untried method."

"It is not untried…" Bill began, his face growing red, but he was waved into silence like some unruly child.

The Minister of Sport narrowed his eyes and pointed a finger at Bill. "Unlike some of you, my trust of Goblins only goes so far." His fist closed then slammed down against the table. "By Merlin I will have those warding stones tested. And I will have you prove to me that they are indeed strong enough to catch him if he dares wink at the ward." His eyes swept across the table to Tonks, who shrunk back slightly in her seat.

Shacklebolt sighed. "I understand your concerns, Patrick." The Minster turned to face Bill. "Would you mind…" He swallowed. "Demonstrating your wards?"

Bill clenched his jaw. "I've never been doubted like this before… but I will do as ordered."

"Excellent!" Patrick clapped his hands together. "I'm sure it will allow us all to go to the final feeling at ease."

"We all appreciate your effort, Bill." Shacklebolt spoke again. "However, the fact remains that Lucius might try to get at Harry before or after the game. Nothing says that he will do it during the game."

"If he were sane then I would agree with you, Minister." Harry replied calmly. He hated having to use himself as bait. "But he is the most dangerous criminal alive and he has set his mind to this task. If he wanted to do something quietly and out of the public eye then he could've done it before Christmas."

"He did try to take care of you after the Harpies' first game," Tonks said with a raised eyebrow.

"That was a moment of weakness that sent him to Azkaban for a couple of months." Harry shook his head. "He's got a plan. A perfect plan in his mind to get at me during the game."

"You seem very sure of yourself, Potter." Patrick was the one to speak.

Harry laughed bitterly. "I wish I could be sure, but it is the best theory that I could come up with considering our history."

Dumbledore nodded. "Harry is thinking along the right lines. We must try to be one step ahead of Lucius during the final."

"Precisely," Harry agreed. "We just need to ensure we can block him." His confidence grew, his mood infectious. "Then, as he thinks he is about to provide the death blow to Harry James Potter, we strike and end this."

"What are we to do after he's captured?" Tonks and Bill asked together.

Shacklebolt shivered and Dumbledore looked uncomfortable. "We'll have no choice but sentence him to the Dementor's Kiss."

The people around the table grew still. "You could just execute him." Tonks was the one to speak.

"The law does not allow it, you know that." Shacklebolt tried to admonish her, but even he could wish for something so easy. "The Kiss will be hard enough to get through the system."

"As it should be," Harry interjected. "But we must make sure that the man is never able to rise again." He glanced at every person around the table. "We are risking the lives of other people. We cannot fail in this task." His gaze lingered on Bill. "Those wards must be impenetrable." The all nodded solemnly, Bill's face grew determined with the knowledge that his sister's safety was at stake. "I wish with all my heart that there was another way, but Lucius is determined to remain in hiding until he can strike at me. Unfortunately the final will be his chance."

"Dammed by your own success." Shacklebolt tried for some humour.

Harry retorted proved bitter. "Prophecies do enough damming."

Everyone around the table, save the younger Weasleys, knew about the prophecy.

Shacklebolt cleared his throat to get everyone's attention again. "Well, we know what to do. Keep this quiet, work quickly and make sure everything is in place."

"Yes, sir!" Tonks said loudly. The rest of the Aurors, including Bill, did the same.

One by one the members began to file out of the small house. The distinct sound of people Disapparating the only indication that they hadn't just walked out into the dark night. Eventually only Bill remained apart from Kingsley, Patrick, Dumbledore and Harry.

Patrick clapped Bill on the shoulder. "So you say these stones of your friends can do the job."

"Of course. They are used within certain parts of Gringotts and other secure Goblin assets."

Patrick's eyes grew bright with interest. "But are they to be trusted? Can we activate or deactivate them if needed?"

"Well, yes, but I would need to be in charge."

The Minister of Sport shook his head vigorously. "No, that won't do. The Minster and myself will need to be allowed control."

"But, sir! The Goblins hold these secrets close. I cannot discuss such things with you."

The former Beater crossed his arms, voice growing more gruff. "Then I'm afraid I cannot support this scheme of Potter's. And I will have to continue with the extensive upgrades on the stadium for the final, which is already delaying the final." His voice grew louder. "One man alone cannot be in control of such things."

"And why not?" Dumbledore asked curiously. "Bill is a senior wizard at Gringotts and I have complete faith in his abilities to control the wards."

The man did not look pleased. "I will not place the safety of my people in one man. I have to be able to jump in and take control if things go wrong."

Dumbledore looked up at Kingsley. The Minister gave a small shrug of his shoulders. "Very well, Patrick. I will go with Mr Weasley to discuss the matter with the Goblins. If they say no, then…"

"Then we place more effort into upgrading the stadium as planned, Dumbledore. I refuse to be out of the loop in this matter."

The Headmaster looked like he wanted to argue, but instead he smiled. "As you wish, Patrick."

Kingsley waited for Patrick to leave. "One last thing, Potter."

"Yes, sir?"

"I've made arrangements that will be keeping you busy over the next few days."

Harry tried to not frown at the loss of practise sessions, but listened.

"How did the meeting go?" Ginny asked when Harry appeared in the flat. He looked tired, the lines on his forehead a bit deeper than usual.

"If Bill can get the Goblins to agree with a few things then it should all be in order."

"Are you sure about this, Harry? It seems awfully dangerous."

He snorted. "If I could wrap myself in bubble wrap and sit in a corner then I would." He collapsed onto the couch, eyes closing. "But until he is dealt with I'm afraid that won't be possible."

"Bubble wrap?"

"Muggle thing. It's this thin plastic with air bubbles. They use it to pack breakable objects." He laughed. "Great fun popping them."

She shook her head trying to imagine how popping plastic bubbles could be fun.

Sitting down, she managed to settle his head on her lap. He wormed his body closer to hers and sighed. "You're amazing, you know."

"Of course I am, Potter."

He laughed, the sound only highlighting his exhaustion. Her fingers worked their way through his short black hair. "Two weeks before the semis."

"Quiet Harry, Gwenog might hear you."

A smile formed on his lips. "Frightened that she might work you into the pitch?"

Her lips narrowed, but her voice remained light. "There have been rumours about missing Harpies players around this time of year."

He nodded. "Melissa ran off with some Frenchman and disappeared into the French countryside. Suzanne got drunk, slipped and knocked her head against a table; unconscious for three weeks and had amnesia for six months. Cassandra got into a fight…"

"I get it, but things happen this time of year." She pursed her lips. "Did Melissa really run away?"

"Yeah, Gwenog was furious. Losing a star Chaser so late in the season and two days before the semi proved disastrous."

"Two days before!" Ginny cried out. "No wonder the game was a complete shambles. We lost by four hundred even though we caught the Snitch."

He let out a long sleepy breath. "Gwenog looked about ten years older after that week. The name Melissa was never to be mentioned again." The last words came out very slowly.

She wanted to say more, but his breathing had grown steady. She slipped out from beneath him and conjured a nice thick, fluffy blanket and placed it over him. "Night, Harry." She leaned down and placed a soft kiss on his lips before Apparating to the Burrow. It did not take long for her to fall asleep as well.

A few days later saw an exhausted Ginny waking a bit late, though she managed to arrive on time even though her hair was in complete shambles. The other women did not look much better. Victoria alone seemed composed as she stood on the pitch with broom in hand, but the woman was a veteran Harpy.

Gwenog stepped onto the field and clapped her hands together eagerly. "I hope you lazy girls had a good night's rest because today I have something special planned."

Everyone, including Victoria, suppressed a groan. "Are you girls eager?"

"Yes." They group gave a half-hearted reply.

"Very enthusiastic girls. I'm impressed. Now say that again!"

"Yes!" Ginny and others shouted loudly.

Gwenog grinned in her usual evil manner. "Not the same as your pre-season shouts, but getting there." She strode across to where the Harpies stood in a line. "You won't be needing brooms today."

"Fitness?" Victoria asked in surprise.

"Skills," Gwenog replied with a twinkle in her eye.

All the Harpies glanced across at one another and mouthed, "Skills?"

Victoria dared voice her thoughts. "Without our brooms?"

"Yes." Gwenog replied before glancing at her watch. "There are certain concerns about the final and I would like to make sure you are ready."

"Shouldn't we be focusing on the semi first?"

Their coach hesitated for a moment. "Usually I would agree, but this year things are a bit different."

"Is that!" Samantha screeched. "What's he doing here?"

"And in orange," Victoria gagged then stared at Ginny. "How do you stomach that?"

"By making sure he wears nothing," Ginny replied with a straight face. Katie sniggered then burst out laughing.

"This is no joke, girls," Gwenog snapped. "Harry is here to teach you lot some useful skills."

"Like what?" Samantha asked. "He's not going to help us win."

"No," their coach agreed. "But Harry is an extremely good instructor and he happens to know a thing or two about things you might want to know about."

Harry reached Gwenog and gave her a friendly hug. "They're all yours, Harry."

She glared at the clothes he wore. It reminded Ginny of the month they spent training together; instead of the Harpies shirt he wore a Cannon's one. He smiled easily, but it was one he used to hide uneasiness.

"Hi," he began sounding a bit unsure. "I guess you are wondering what I could possibly be doing here. I assure you that it is very important."

Victoria stepped forwards. Being of almost equal length she managed to stare directly into his eyes. "Get on with it, Potter."

"There are various safety concerns over the final. Malfoy…" The Harpies all ground their teeth. "As you know has escaped. It is believed that he might attempt another stunt at the final."

"So what does that have to do with you?" Victoria asked, her temper not far from the surface.

"The Minister has asked me to train you in some more advanced defensive and offensive magic."

"Who died and made you so knowledgeable?" Victoria breathed out.

Ginny shrieked and leapt forwards. Her body slammed into Harry's; her hands barely managed to grip his arms. "Take that back, Victoria," she said despite the effort it took to calm Harry down.

Harry took a step back and shook his head. "It was mistake coming here." He faced Gwenog. "Forgive me, Gwen… I… I should probably be going."

Ginny turned to face her captain. The woman looked completely taken aback by the sudden outburst from Ginny; perhaps the intense look of hurt in Harry's eyes had an effect.

"I am sorry for what I said, Harry," Victoria called out.

Behind, Ginny heard Harry stop walking. He said nothing. Gwenog broke the tension. "Harry has given much of his life to fighting You-Know-Who. He has lost more friends and his entire family to the war. One thing I do know for sure about Harry is that he is better at duelling than flying."

Ginny nodded unconsciously. Victoria seemed a bit unsure of what to say. The rest of the Harpies glanced around, none able to look in the direction of Harry.

Victoria swallowed then spoke. "If the Minister thinks it important enough to send a Cannon into a Harpies training session then it must be. I will try to listen, Potter."

"Thank you, Hughes. I assure you that the day will not be a waste." Ginny turned to see Harry attempting to motivate himself. "Trying to help the Cannon guys was a waste. The bunch of fools are way too stubborn." His eyes sparkled. "I assume you are much more level headed."

"Of course," they all stammered out together.

"Good." He waved his hand and the orange shirt vanished only to be replaced by a Harpies training shirt. "Better?" he asked, eyes twinkling with mischief.

Victoria managed grin. "You just need a skirt."

"They didn't have one in my size."

"Pity," Ginny sighed.

Harry shook his head. "Alright, let's get this going. I don't want to come back tomorrow." He glared at Ginny. "Just in case certain items are suddenly in stock."

"Aww," the Harpies moaned. "Please come back tomorrow, Harry."

"Never!" He mock shouted. Then he grew a bit more serious. "Line up and take out your wands."

The Harpies shuffled about until they formed a neat line. Ginny was left facing Harry at the end; Gwenog had apparently vanished. "Good. Now, get into a defensive posture and cast a shield charm. Basic OWL level charm please."

He strode, hands clasped behind his back as he studied each girl as they cast the spell. "Good work, Victoria. Katie, shift your right leg a bit, you're opening up your chest and exposing more of your body to your opponent. Catherine, your arms too low, half the shield is being wasted. Michelle, tuck your arms in a bit; it wastes time moving your arms so far. Ginny, loosen your grip on the wand; your movements need to be fluid. Holding a wand so tightly will cause your wand movement to jerk around a bit." He spun round and faced the group. "Those comments go for all of you. This is a basic charm and we need to get it perfect if we are to progress. Again!" He strode past them all from the other side. "Angelina, your feet are too far apart. Get them a bit closer and bend at the knees slightly more. It will improve your ability to react. Still a bit tight on the grip there, Ginny. Nice form Victoria." He scratched the stubble on his chin. "Again!"

The next half hour progressed in a similar manner until Harry proved happy with their movements. "Was that really necessary, Harry?" Victoria asked.

"In fights the chaos of the first few moments is what kills most witches and wizards. Surviving is often determined by how quickly and efficiently you can cast that shield." He pointed at Katie. "If you expose more of your body than necessary and you fail to get your shield in place then you increase the risk of being hit. Getting the body in the right line also allows for a quick and efficient stunner to be sent in the right direction. These first movements are crucial."

Ginny tried to digest his words. She, however, knew how valuable Harry's experience was. Firstly for Seeking, now for fighting. "Form a line and face the main stand, please. We are going to work on those stunners."

As one the Harpies shuffled into a new line. Harry discreetly waved his wand and a dummy appeared before each of them. "Now, same as with those shields. I want you to fire off a single stunner at your dummy. Ready?" They nodded. "Let loose."

The stadium flashed red for a few seconds as each stunned their dummy. Harry smirked. "At least you all hit your targets unlike some guys I know." He stopped before Victoria. "You've had some training."

"Defence until NEWTs, I know my stuff."

He nodded then moved along the line. "Catherine, you need to feel the spell a bit more. You've worked on this more than your shield charm, but you lack confidence. Try to not hold back. Katie, you hit, but try not to aim for the head. Always go for the chest. It's the largest part of the body." He took a step back and addressed them all. "Head shots work well when they hit, but hitting a stationary dummy is much easier than hitting a moving enemy. Hit the chest, at worst he'll stumble allowing a cleaner second stunner to finish him off. At best it'll get the job done as well." He came up to Ginny. "Good work, it helps keeping the wand a bitter looser in your palm." She nodded. "The arm and wrist flows more naturally into the movement." She felt herself beam up at him, his emerald eyes sparkled back.

"That was exhausting," Ginny groaned as she collapsed onto Harry's bed. "I never knew magic could take that much out of you."

Harry sat down on the edge. "It's just like fitness and strength. You jog you get fitter; you do weights you get stronger. With spells the more you cast them the more you will be able to do in a day. The stronger and more powerful the spells the greater your strength becomes."

"Is there a limit?"

"The same as the human body. Everyone has got their own talent. Training allows you to exploit more of the talent."

She rolled onto her side. He let his hand rest on her side. "So how powerful are you really, Harry?"

"Strong enough I suppose. Voldemort had more; I guess I ended up being more Slytherian."

"It's a pity you were never sorted."

"Maybe, but not being in a house allows me to see them all for what they are.

"Gryffindor remains the best."

"Both my parents were in Gryffindor so I like to think that I would have been sorted there."

"Really?" she asked in surprise. "Knew there was a reason why I liked you, Potter."

"Apart from my irresistible charm."

"You've got it all wrong, Harry." Ginny sat up, laughing. "You are good at charms, but miserable at charming."

"The difference being?" He leaned closer and captured her lips with his.

"Not so sure, really."

"So good of you to come, Patrick."

"A pleasure as always, Lucius."

"I hope you have good news?"

"The best."

Lucius laughed. "Please do tell, my friend."

"How are things going, Bill?" Harry asked his future brother-in-law.

The older man wiped at a few beads of sweat on his forehead. "Almost there." He gritted his teeth while pushing against the rune covered slab of smooth rock on the ground. "Just need to get this last one aligned and it's always the last one that's tricky."

Harry watched on intently. Bill would strain his muscles to move the slab less than an inch, check some calculations, then move it again. The process seemed to be dragging on forever. Watching him work made Harry realise that he would never want Bill's job.

"How's the process going, boys?" Harry bit back a retort as the Minister of Sport strode into the small room housing the last of the warding stones.

"It's almost done," Bill growled. "Setting up the Harpies stadium was already a day's work."

Patrick laughed. "It's all for a good cause, Bill."

The older Weasley did not look up, instead continued to methodically work the stone into place. It took another ten minutes of hard labour before he sighed and sat back.

A distinct but soft vibration radiated from the stone. "I assume it's working."

"Yes." Bill stood. "We should get to the control runes."

"Excellent." Patrick clapped eagerly. "I will be in charge of this one I assume."

Bill did not look pleased. "That is the arrangement, yes. I will of course be at the Harpies game."

"Very good. This will allow me to fully come to terms with this…" His hands waved about. "Magic."

Harry followed behind the two, eager to see the ward in action. They climbed up the stadium to a room beside the commentator's booth. It provided an unspoiled view of every corner of the stadium.

The Minister of Sport hurried across to the table where a small slab lay with numerous complex runes. "So you say I just have to place my hand over a certain rune to activate the desired intensity."

Bill nodded stiffly. The other man grinned then placed a hand over a large rune to the right. "Wait!" Bill cried out. "Start with a lesser ward."

"Why, don't you trust your own work?"

"Of course I do, but with this kind of power you don't fool around. You could kill people down there."

The man laughed. "I'm sure you are exaggerating." He turned to look out the window and placed his hand over the last rune again.

Bill's lips moved, mimicking choice words he dared not utter aloud. The feeling of power in the air intensified, but as suddenly as it came it vanished. A sigh of relief escaped the Weasley's lips.

"What happened?" Patrick shouted; a small vein along his neck began to pulse. "I don't feel anything!"

Harry and Bill took a step backwards. "You're not supposed to. When the required ward strength is reached the power is consumed by the stones. You won't feel a thing until you try walking through it."

The Minister of Sport stared at Bill for a few long seconds, then nodded. "Most ingenious." Patrick turned away and placed his hand on the stone again; this time on the first rune. The power in the air intensified for a brief moment then vanished. "Is it off?"

"Yes," Bill answered. "Only the basic stadium wards are active now."

The Minister of Sport looked to be deep in thought. "Are you saying that no one outside of this room would know in what setting the stones are?"

The red haired man rolled his eyes. "That is the point of these wards."

Patrick clapped his hand together in satisfaction. "I assume that will be all. You can go back to the Harpies stadium." Bill stood motionless, unsure of what to do. "That will be all, Mr Weasley." He faced Harry. "You can go as well. Nothing more for you to see."

Harry turned and left the room alongside Bill. "Why do I have this bad feeling?"

"Because people shouldn't be touching things they don't understand," Bill replied angrily. "The man's a first class fool."

Harry could only nod. "I just hope he doesn't blow this stadium sky high."

Bill did not laugh. "Don't joke, Harry. Those stones can do more damage than even you can comprehend."

"Then why allow him access?"

"Power gets in the way of wisdom." Bill veered away angrily. "Good luck, Harry."

"Bill," Harry called out. The older man stopped.

"Yes, Harry."

"You know I want Ginny to win today."

The man nodded. "But you'd rather she not be in the final."

Harry ran a hand guiltily through his hair. "Is that wrong of me?"

Bill came to stand before Harry and placed a hand on his shoulder. "No. I think some part in all of us would prefer her to fail."

Harry shook his head. "But she's too bloody stubborn to lose."

"Well." Bill shrugged. "You wanted to marry a Weasley."

Harry stared up into the man's eyes. "I'll look after her."

Bill nodded, then walked away.

"It's that day of the year again, Bobby!"

"Indeed it is, Peter. So if you were born yesterday or been stuck at Hogwarts reading notes then let us inform you."

"Today is of course the important semi-finals. A day in which both games are played at the same time."

"Just makes my mouth water thinking of all the great flying we get to commentate about today."

"But there is a problem."

"The same one as every year."

"And that is that we only get to see half the action."

"Indeed. Peter will be covering the Cannons and Arrows while I'll be commentating on the Harpies and Kestrels."

"A real shame, Bobby. I would have loved to see Weasley in her first elimination game."

"A big thing for those of you who are new to the sport. The losing team goes home and in such pressure situations we get to witness the making or breaking of a player."

"Those Kestrel fans will be hoping to see a star destroyed today, while the Harpies out there will be hopping on one leg, tying scarves to wrists, holding wands in wrong hands and every other laughable thing to ensure luck remains on their side."

"Don't be too surprised to see those Kestrel fans bobbing about as well."

"The other question remains, Bobby. Will the Arrows be able to keep Potter at bay?"

"He is a true force to be reckoned with in these games. Pressure seems to forge him into something even more special. Tickets for the Cannon's game were sold out in a matter of minutes with even the Arrow's fans looking forward to seeing the master at work. What will their tactic be?"

"I think Cartwright, the Arrow's Seeker, will want to block Potter. Keep him away from the Snitch until they can extend their lead by more than 150."

"A tall order for Cartwright and the team, but the Arrows do have a strong set of Chasers and with Wood not playing that leaves a rookie Keeper for the Cannon's."

"The Cannon's Chasers might have a mountain to Apparate up today, but with Potter in the mix they will be more comfortable than the Arrows keeping the scores similar."

"That leaves us the Harpy Kestral game. What do you think, Peter?"

"Both teams have been stable this year. The only real unknown is Weasley."

"That name is rolling off many tongues today, and for good reason. A surprising talent which Gwenog moulded into a real star. I just don't know if the young woman has it in her to defy the odds and take a sixth consecutive Snitch."

"With Potter about one might begin to think such a task reasonable, but only a handful of players in the history of the game have taken six in a row."

"Indeed, Peter. Potter has this annoying habit of rewriting the History books. But what will the Kestrels be thinking?"

"Pressure, Bobby. Pressure is what breaks the inexperienced. They'll be looking to extend their lead quickly and early. By keeping the Harpies behind on the scoreboard they will attempt to force the young Weasley into a mistake."

"I can see the logic in that, Peter. The Harpies on the other hand, being led by the experienced Hughes, will be difficult to contain. Looking at current form, and the thrashing the Kestrel's received from the Cannon's, I feel it will be up to their Seeker, White, to win them the game and not their Chasers."

"Merlin! Can't the games begin? I need to know, as I am sure you do to."

The wind blew briskly across the exposed pitch as Harry flew leisurely up to the match official and Cartwright. The blue and grey uniform of his opponent blended well with the pale cloudless sky.

Cartwright glared at Harry, who smiled back. "Still going for intimidation, Mark."

"Are you, Potter?"

Harry yawned dramatically. "Pardon, some bug made noise, did you say something?"

The man's scowl deepened, eyes narrowed. "Just keep your eyes open."

"Come on, Mark. Even I need to see the Snitch before I can catch it."

The man smirked. "Good, just keep your eyes on the little golden ball."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Are you going to try Bludgers again?" He sighed. "You tried that two years ago." Harry scratched his chin then tapped his nose; a wry smile in his lips. "I know." He winked. "Don't worry, you're secret's save with me, hey Mark."

The man's face grew red. "Just remember that I will be having the last laugh tonight."

The whistle blew and the Snitch flew out into the broad expanse of the British countryside.

Cartwright flew off into the distance and Harry turned to begin his grid. A part of his mind remained focused on the other Seeker; something that pale uniform made unusually difficult.

"Welcome to the Harpies versus Kestrels semi-final. Unlike the brisk winds at the Cannon's stadium the weather here is perfect for a game of Quidditch. The sky is clear and the air still."

The radio grew silent for a brief moment. "Oh… um sorry listeners. I'm so use to having Peter by side with a remark that I completely forgot the man was a hundred miles away. Seems I'm growing nuttier by the day, but I'll blame it on pre-game tension."

"The two teams are getting into position. The two Seekers are glaring at one another. Weasley does seem to be in control of her emotions, but White appears eager and ready for anything."

"I know it has been mentioned before, but Weasley remains small on the back of that broom of hers. You get the feeling that you could just push her off, but the five games already played this season have proved that she is one tough lady. She…"

"The whistle blows! The game begins, both Seekers dive toward the pitch. I can only assume the Snitch dropped like a stone. By Merlin's unmentionable under things they are diving fast. I can barely watch…" The static grew loud in the anxious wait.

"They've pulled out of their dives, Weasley practically touching the grass with her feet. Wow! Those two are giving each other the evil eye, but Weasley definitely got one up on White with that dive."

"This is going to be a great battle, listeners. Those Seekers are flying for more than just a win."

"Dear me! So enthralled, mystified by the dive of certain death I've missed the first goal of the game. The Harpies have managed to sneak in an early shot to take the lead."

"This is going to be a long game and my throat is already going dry, but by gosh it's worth it!"

"Hughes' got the Quaffle, she dodges a well-aimed Bludger only to pass to Bell…"

The minutes flew by slowly as Ginny flew along her grid. The ever elusive Snitch proved nearly impossible to sight today. Harry had warned her about the Snitch and that she should not lose faith in her abilities. According to him it always remained hidden during the first hour or so of an elimination game.

She took a brief moment to look across the pitch towards White. The man was searching aggressively; moving rapidly along his search pattern.

Ginny pulled up on her broom and slowly moved away from her grid. White immediately noticed the change in direction. His eyes would be narrowed behind those goggles, while dancing about in attempt to see what would have caused her to change path.

Her eyes moved away from him and began to roam around the stadium. The pre-game flight, as always, helped settle nerves and acclimatise senses to the mass of witches and wizards in their multi-coloured robes around the field.

The beating of her heart had settled over the past half-hour. The Harpies were doing well, the lead already nearing a hundred. The thought did not provide much comfort, anything below one hundred and fifty and they would still lose if Ginny failed.

White rocketed past the distracted Ginny. She dove down after him, hoping that she'd not missed the Snitch.

"A physical contest as I've never seen before. Cartwright is really trying to hammer Potter into the ground. But you know as well as I do that Potter does not flinch away from contact."

The radio crackled. "The Cannon's are slowly extending their lead, even though their rookie Keeper has let in a few easy goals. But a few calming words from the all experienced Potter seemed to have settled the lads anxiety and since then he has been performing admirably."

Harry calmly circled around the pitch. Cartwright had been flying hard, his physical attitude had already seen the Snitch scarper away two times. Just as Harry was about to move onto a new pattern a small glint of gold caught his eye for the third time during the game.

Remaining calm, he gradually looped his way to the far side of the pitch where the Snitch tried to remain inconspicuous. He edged closer, careful to not make his intentions known. Harry bit down hard on his jaw, Cartwright had seen the Snitch.

Harry leaned down against the handle of his broom and dropped into a steep dive to gain momentum. The small Snitch, realising hiding was no longer an option, veered away. Harry kept his eyes on the ball, while trying to keep tabs of the near invisible pale blue uniform, but Cartwright had vanished.

The Snitch was coming closer. The Horizon jerked, then appeared upside down. A moment later pain coursed through his body. Harry blinked, trying to focus on something solid. The hoops came in and out of focus. The sound of the crowd shouting in protest barely registered. He looked up at his broom, now hovering, his right hand clutched the handle while his legs remained wrapped around. With a heave, he righted himself, but his left shoulder throbbed angrily.

The Snitch was gone. Glancing around, Harry saw no immediate threat. The Chasers and Beaters were still playing hard, but on the far side of the field. A shadow passed over him, Cartwright. Harry scowled, but there was nothing to be done about the foul play.

Ginny reached out and caught the golden ball moments before it could dodge to the side and away from her clutching fingers. The full impact of the very familiar and

comforting feel of metal against her palm took a moment to register. Then the broad Weasley smile emerged. "We won!" The cry of elation left her mouth as she held the glittering Snitch in the air.

The stadium became alive with the shouts of the fans. They were shouting her name and those of all her fellow teammates. The Harpies were going to the final. As she landed there remained only one question; would they be playing against the Cannons?

Victoria was the first of the Harpies to land beside her. "Ginny!" The woman shouted even before her arms could wrap around the small form that was Ginny. "Never doubted you for a minute!" The rest of the players streamed in from all parts of the field. Soon even Gwenog found herself in the middle of a sea of dark green jerseys and shouting Harpies. Eventually the team's celebrations began to die down, but the supporters kept on going. If anything they only seemed to be getting more excited.

A magically enhanced voice boomed over the stadium and field. Peter, the commentator spoke. "I've received news from the other semi-final. In a complete rout the Cannons devastated the Kestrels and took the game comfortably 510 to 210. The poor Kestrels were left scratching their heads. I'll patch you through to Bobby, who is covering the game."

Ginny almost leapt into the air, but a firm hand on her shoulder kept the ground in contact with her feet. "There'll be time for celebrations later, Ginny. For now we must look mournful."

"Right," Ginny nodded, suddenly sombre. "We had a much better chance against the Kestrels. But beating the Cannons will be so much better!"

The enhanced voice crackled and then Bobby came through loud and clear. "Quite a remarkable game witnessed here today at the Cannons stadium. Potter, though battered and bruised by what many would call foul play from Cartwright, led a well-coordinated and motived team in a decisive victory that showed all the hallmarks of a team who knows what it means to win. This team has won their past 34 games and will look to add number 35 and a trophy in a few weeks' time."

Ginny wondered about the foul play, but it sounded like the sort of bruises Harry brought home after every game. The man was a flying disaster area really. Gwenog harrumphed, breaking Ginny's thoughts. "They aren't going to take that trophy from us!" Ginny surprised herself by saying loudly.

"Damn right those egotistical Cannons won't take what is ours!" Victoria shouted.

Katie leaned back and shouted. "Harpies!"

The entire team joined her for a second shout. In a matter of moments the entire stadium began to chant the team's name. With arms wrapped around her teammates, Ginny found herself having the time of her life. All she needed now to make the moment perfect was to have Harry beside her cheering along.

Those cheers lasted only a few minutes. A loud boom echoed around the stadium. Every voice went silent. Wands were being drawn as every Harpy had hers attached to a wrist as the new laws decreed for safety.

"What was that?" Katie asked.

It was the voice of Bobby who answered from the Cannon's game. "Merlin! It sounded like the stadium wards had been blown to smithereens. I dare say what are those men doing? The stadium is off limits! Bloody hell a shock wave just smashed into the players. They're down…"

Ginny's blood froze. Beside her Gwenog had much the same reaction, but hers seemed better contained. "Harry!"

Ginny's feet began moving even before her mind could register what it was that she wanted to do.

"Where are you going, Ginny?" Gwenog shouted from behind. "You'll get yourself killed, girl!"

Ginny ignored the words. Instead she hurtled past security and spectators who were looking around in horror. There was no time for pleasantries; instead she shouldered her way through the thick mass of people. She had to reach the Apparition point. The moment she stepped into the ward free zone, she disappeared and emerged to the sound of thousands of people screaming. Feet pounded loudly as many tried to flee the scene.

Ginny had one destination in mind – Harry. She could only get so far before being thrown back violently by the wards. Had it not been for the firm arms of Victoria, Ginny would have had a painful connection with a stadium seat.

"Thanks," Ginny muttered.

"No problem," her captain replied, faced worried. "What are we to do?"

"Get to the ward stone. Bill mentioned it being near the commentator's booth."

"Lead the way."

Harry had just begun to relax and beginning to wish that he was with Ginny celebrating their wins when he felt rather than saw something wrong. The stadium wards vibrated in the manner which indicated that the setting had changed. He casually turned around, wand already in hand, and studied the boisterous crowd of orange clad supporters. Peter's voice still echoed around the stadium as he commented about the Harpies game, which sounded like it had gone well.

Nothing seemed out of place or amiss. Harry was about to re-join the team's celebrations when a loud blast reverberated through his body and the stadium as a whole.

"Get down!" Harry shouted at his fellow Cannons players. They dropped to the floor, more from surprise than his command.

For a brief moment the ward around the field blurred and then winked out of existence. A few seconds later it snapped back up into place. A powerful surge of magical energy came rushing towards him. With wand in hand, Harry raised a shield. Behind him the Cannon's and Arrow's players were not so fortunate.

He turned, only to witness them being thrown backwards by the intense concentration of magical energy. When the wave hit the Goblin ward behind the players it dissipated, it left nothing behind but a pile of unconscious bodies. Harry bit down hard, drawing blood from a lip caught between teeth, hoping they were not dead.

Only then did he notice the men in robes of black. They wore masks bearing mocking grins, but there was nothing funny about the people behind them. Their wands were poised and each looked ready to kill. Harry counted a few times, there were six. Long blonde hair, peeked out from under a hood.

"Malfoy!" Harry screamed. "You dare come here!"

The first reply was a laugh. The second a blazing green spell that was cast for one reason only. Harry stepped aside, noticing how soft the ground was beneath his feet. His left shoulder remained numb.

The odds were not looking good as the men began to spread out. Harry took a deep, calming breath. It failed to settle his nerves. His skin already glistened with sweet making it difficult to get a firm grip on the wand. At least time would be on his side; only the first few minutes needed to be survived. Patrick would disable the ward.

"Why will you not die like a man, Potter? Stand still and face it like you deserve."

Harry bent his knees, lowering his body and poising himself to react. "What do you wish to gain, Malfoy. Voldemort won't return if you kill me, even though I ended his."

"Don't use that name!" Malfoy shouted in outrage. Then his voice softened. "No, but I can snuff out your miserable existence."

A snarl could be heard coming from the group. Malfoy raised his hand. Spells flew towards Harry; six multi-coloured beams of light. Each one meant to injure, torture, but not kill. Harry flicked a firm shield into existence and the first barrage of spells blossomed against its outer edge; forming a soft blue glow around him. The force of the first five spells knocked Harry backwards and towards the soft grass. The sixth, a cutting hex, managed to slip through the weakened barrier.

The spell cut deeply into his upper left thigh. The leg went numb, then buckled. The ground came up slowly to meet Harry. The pain he knew would follow. Red blood began to pour from where the curse had sliced his skin. The burning, then ice cold sensation hit him like a blow to the stomach forcing a loud cry from his lips. Sweat beaded, then dropped from his forehead. His hands trembled.

There was no time to wrap or contain the loss of blood. Biting down hard, he managed to raise an unsteady arm. Red stunning spells blossomed out from the tip of his wand, which like before felt cold and alien unlike his own. The rays of light sought out the robed figures bearing down on what they had thought a defeated man.

Their minds, stuck on offensive spells, could not conjure shields. Three men dropped to the ground, motionless as the stunners hit them against the chest. Harry stood, blood flowing freely now, and hobbled backwards in attempt to keep a fair distance between the remaining three and himself.

The Death Eaters struck out with greater fervour, but with only three spells to block Harry's survival became increasingly more likely. Malfoy raised a hand, the men stopped then steadied themselves.

Harry frowned before letting loose a few more spells. Malfoy and one of his henchmen were prepared. Their shields snapped into place with relative ease. The third, still blinded by some unseen hatred stood exposed, the red bar of light knocked him a few feet back. He lay unmoving, like his companions.

For the first time since the fight had begun Malfoy hesitated. The effective wand in Harry's hand was no doubt unexpected. The Death Eater's command faltered. The man to his right sent a quick questioning glance. It was the opportunity that Harry had been waiting for, but the stunner sent was blocked.

Harry, still staggering, edged away. Malfoy's dark eyes glared back. The fight was far from over, there would be no escape for the loser. The two former Death Eaters grew determined and sent a barrage of killing curses. Through the searing pain of his leg, Harry managed to dance around each. The Avada Kedvra might be able to kill, but it was not the quickest spell to conjure; as such it made preparing for it easy in comparison to more basic hexes.

He danced about while building his magical reserve. When he struck, he struck hard and swiftly. In the time it took to blink, Harry fired off a volley of six stunners. The same he'd done earlier, this time however all six were aimed at the same man. Malfoy's shield trembled as the first spell impacted against its surface. It warped inwards when the second hit. The third stretched it to near breaking allowing the fourth to tear it to shreds. The fifth slammed into Malfoy's left shoulder, while the final spell bombarded into the man's chest. For a brief moment shock registered in the eyes behind the mask, then they closed as the force of the impacts threw him off his feet.

Harry almost let his shoulders sag in relief, but one man remained. Patiently, Harry played a similar game with the man. A brief flurry of curses ended with the man collapsing to the floor.

For what felt like an eternity, Harry stood trying to comprehend the enormity of it all. The sounds of the screaming crowd registered briefly. His eyes remained focused on the Death Eaters, more precisely Malfoy. Could it really be over? There had to be more.

Ginny and Victoria bounded up the stairs towards the Commentator's booth. A few wizards stepped backwards fearfully as the two witches ran past.

Breathing heavily, they reached the top. Tired, Ginny did not react to an ugly purple spell that came her way. A firm shove from behind pushed her into an empty room across from the stairs.

Spinning round, she saw Victoria standing with her back to the wall. Her face set with determination. "Keep your eyes open, Ginny."

She nodded. Carefully, Ginny looked around the edge, a red spell came closer. Ducking back into the room the spell exploded against the door frame. Wood splintered and cut at exposed skin.

"Cover me," Victoria whispered. Ginny gestured that she understood. Victoria gave a signal, Ginny exposed her body just enough to fire a few stunners down the hall. Victoria moved into the corridor, body perfectly aligned, then cast a powerful stunner. A loud grunt echoed from the far end of the corridor. The Harpies Captain moved back to the safety of the staircase. "Good work, Ginny."

"Nice stunner," Ginny complemented.

Another purple spell stopped their quick chat. "My turn," Ginny said seriously. Victoria nodded. "Now."

Victoria came round, and fired four wild stunners down the corridor. Ginny waited, two red spells flew back. One clipped Victoria's left shoulder. The woman spun then rolled down the stairs.

Ginny moved into the corridor and sighted the Death Eater. An angry spell tore free from her wand. It hit the surprised man squarely in the chest. A second spell threw him against the far wall where he slumped to the ground.

The world grew silent. With care, Ginny began to make her way towards the room housing the runes. She moved past the two Death Eaters laying in the hallway then entered the room. The Minister of Sport lay sprawled across the floor, covered in blood, a nasty cut on the back of his head. "Fool," Ginny muttered.

She stepped over his prone body and placed her hand on the first rune like Bill had shown her. The stadium hummed slightly then grew still again. She bolted from the room, stopping only to wake Victoria and to ensure that she was alright.

Witches and wizards stared on in wonder as the small Harpies Seeker came running towards them. She did not stop. Harry needed her help. Her feet touched the green grass as a blinding display of curses flew from Harry's wand. A lone Death Eater stood, but his arms buckled under the onslaught. The lights vanished leaving nothing but a man lying on the floor motionless.

Harry only returned to his senses when a concerned pair of brown eyes stared up at him. Long red hair, tied in a ponytail, made him smile.

"Ginny," he whispered.

"It's over, Harry."

He closed his eyes and wrapped her in his arms. "I know." He tilted her chin upwards and brought his lips down towards hers. A kiss had never felt so wonderful before.

The world grew quiet with her in his arms. He chanced a glance towards the stadium. Witches and wizards were staring, mouths agape. Each and every one stunned. He let out a laugh. "Think they are more surprised about the fight or the kiss?"

Ginny could not help but laugh in relief. "Guess our secret's out."

Harry leaned on her shoulder, his leg growing very weak, and watched the six Death Eaters being rounded up by Order Members. "Let the world know how much I love you, Ginny."

The players who'd dropped to the floor were only now getting to their feet. They all seemed to be fine, if a little shaken. The entire fight, Harry estimated had taken little over five minutes. It had ended before many people had even realised that it had begun.

The team Healers and Aurors had come onto the pitch. But it was not them that held Harry's attention. The Kestrels players looked on with confusion. The Cannons merely watched knowingly. Perhaps the strangest of all was the high pitched squeals coming from Bobby, who was on the edge of the pitch, as he tried to explain the presence of the Harpies Seeker in Harry's arms.

In the end none of it mattered. People could stare, they could gossip as much as they wanted. Harry did not mind. What he needed was with him. Hair, matted and wild from her game. Eyes, bright brown, filled with love. Freckles that marked her as unique and special.

He winced as his leg gave in slightly. "Healer!" Ginny shouted.

"I'm fine," he tried to say.

She huffed. "As if I'm going to believe you." She scowled at his leg. "You've lost a lot of blood, Harry."

"I'll live."

For a moment it looked like she was going to slap him, her eyes watered. "You get yourself fixed, Potter! I'm not having you die on me now. Not after what I had to witness a few minutes ago!"

He dropped his head. "I'm sorry."

"Healer!" Ginny shouted again. He remained silent as the Cannon's Healer came running towards them.

The man began to methodically patch Harry's leg. In the distance Bobby's voice rang out across the field and probably to every wizarding home in Britain. Ginny sat beside him on the damp ground, holding his hand in support. No one else dared to approach after Ginny had chased the first group of reporters away.

Harry let out a laugh, and Ginny grinned. "What?"

"The secret's really out." She laughed as her head came to rest against his shoulder. Her gaze went out to the crowd. "So, do you want to go out with me to Diagon Alley, Miss Weasley?"

"Are you asking me out on a date, Mr Potter?"

"I suppose I am, Miss Weasley."

She made as if to think. "I'd like that very much, Harry."

He leaned over, careful not to move his leg where the Healer was still working, and pulled her into another long kiss. The crowd roared somewhere in the distance and Bobby's voice rose even higher.

They broke apart, panting. "I think the crowd approves."

"Either that or they're all jealous."

"They have a right to be, because I'm the luckiest wizard alive to have you." She blushed, bit her lip, but could do nothing but shake her head.

Aurors stood guard around the Death Eaters who were already bound, disarmed and unmasked. None had woken yet, and the Aurors were not about to let them wake. The Order Members among them were hardened veterans, men who'd fought in the war and lost family and friends. Their hard eyes glared at the men sprawled before them. Malfoy seemed the most hated. They had been over optimistic the first time Malfoy had been caught, but this time Harry felt sure that there would be no returning. The stay in Azkaban would be for life.

Near the edge of the pitch the Minister of Sport stood on unsteady legs, dried blood on face and clothes as he talked animatedly to Bobby.

"Looks like he had a rough time of it."

Ginny could only nod. "Serves him right for doubting my brother."

Patrick walked gingerly out onto the pitch. His head hurt from where he'd cursed himself to avoid being questioned about the runes. His eyes lingered on Potter. His line of vision was suddenly cut-off by a very annoying Bobby.

"Former Death Eaters trying to kill Potter then Weasley snogs him! Merlin what else have we been missing this season folks! But I've got the Minister of Sport here with me. Minister, it seems that you've been through the wars yourself today."

Patrick put on the fake smile that had kept him at the Ministry over the years. Inside his hatred was beginning to boil. "Those ruddy Death Eaters took me from behind while I was personally overseeing the security of the stadium. New wards being tested and all so I wanted to make sure everything would be handled properly."

"Why were new wards being tested?" the bubbly man asked eagerly. Patrick felt like strangling the small reporter.

"It has been part of our long term commitment to keeping the players safe. Since the attack on the young Weasley earlier this year we at the Ministry have been working hard to improve safety."

"With good reason it would appear."

"Indeed."

"One more question, Minister. Is it true that Potter… um… you know… killed You-Know-Who."

A hateful laugh escaped Patrick's lips. He stared at Potter sitting on the grass with Aurors and Healers scurrying about. "I think that secret is finally out of the bag. Though, before you ask, I had no knowledge of this apparent relationship with the Harpies Seeker."

His eyes snapped to Victoria, who seemed a bit unsteady, and a small group of Harpies who'd just arrived at the stadium. He hated that team, if only he could have gotten rid of them instead of Potter.

"The man does seem to be full of secrets. Thank you for your time Minister. We wish you a full and quick recovery from your injuries."

Patrick pushed past the small commentator, the man practically falling, but his loud voice continued to make a noise. "Well that is it for today people. The Cannons and Harpies win and will meet each other in the final in little more than a month."

Patrick strode away from the reporter. People ignored him as he walked, but he knew it would not take long for damning evidence to brought against him, but it would come. He snarled inwardly, his hateful glare focused on Potter and his little woman. He spat, another Harpy. He kept his face serene as he continued to march across towards them.

The Healer left and Ginny let go of Harry to stand as the Minister of Sport approached. "Afternoon, sir," she greeted stiffly, not at all pleased with the way the man had managed the wards.

He pushed her roughly to the side with his large strong arms. She stumbled and fell, hearing only the man snarl, "Potter."

A wand appeared in the man's hand. Harry lay defenceless, skin suddenly pale and body weak from the rough game, duel and healing. Ginny jumped to her feet, only to realise no time remained to use a wand. In a foolish gambit she dove forwards, careful to aim for the man's legs. Having brothers paid off for the first time.

Her shoulder slammed into Patrick's knee, catching the man by surprise. A sickening crunch resounded from the region of the joint. The formidable man stumbled and then came crashing to the floor. Ginny followed, her face ploughing into ground beside him. She let go, face covered in mud, and moved as nimbly as her smaller form allowed.

The man, lying on the floor, looked up in surprise. He still held onto his wand. "What do you think you are doing!" she shouted out in rage.

Pure hatred showed on his face; lips were parted in a growl, showing a perfect set of white teeth. "You foolish child. I'll kill you alongside your precious Potter."

He tried to move his wand arm; she was not having any of it. Her foot moved in a blur. Another crunch echoed as it connected with the man's nose. It broke, spraying blood onto the grass. The kick did not stop the large man from jumping to his feet.

It was too late; her wand remained in its holster as his large hands closed around her neck. She could feel the pressure being applied. Just as the pressure began to grow too much his eyes went blank and he slumped to the ground. Behind where the man had stood, Ginny saw Victoria wand arm outstretched.

"Thanks," Ginny coughed out, while struggling to breath.

"We look after each other, Ginny," the woman grinned. "And I can't go lose my star Seeker before the final. Who else is going to kick Potter's backside?"

Ginny managed a weak smile.

"Thanks, Victoria," Harry said from the ground. "You really do have talent with a wand."

The Harpies Captain came closer and pulled Ginny into an embrace. "You're just lucky I check on my girls." She eyed Patrick on the floor. "Besides, I always wanted to hex the bastard."

Harry stood awkwardly. "At least we know what happened to the wards." He encircled his arms around Ginny as Victoria let go. "Remind me to never play rugby with you."

"Rugby?" Ginny asked.

He rolled his eyes. "Muggle sport where people tackle each other. There's a ball involved. Very rough."

Her eyes glimmered. "So when's the game."

He laughed. Victoria shook her head. "She'll be the death of you yet, Potter."

Harry, supported by Ginny, limped towards the stadium. The going proved slow. Their clothes had been cleaned a bit and Ginny's face was dirt free. It felt weird, but strangely enough they smiled. Blinding bulbs flashed brightly as magical cameras tried to capture the cover photo for the Witch Weekly or the Prophet's headline. He wanted to climb into a warm bath and then sleep the night away. It was not to be and he knew it.

"Potter!" Bobby called out. Harry motioned for Ginny to slow down. "Now that I have you cornered, I don't know what to say." Harry waited patiently as the man tried to determine the most importent question. "When did you start dating Miss Weasley?"

He almost laughed. Of all things that happened this was his question. Ginny answered while Harry tried to get over his amusement. "We met over the summer break and started dating shortly before the start of the season."

Bobby's eyebrows rose. "I am sure our listeners were eager to hear that. It does explain those heroics at the start of the season, Potter."

Harry laughed shyly, rubbing his neck, which had grown as red as Ginny's hair. "I guess it had something to do with my stunt."

Bobby grinned broadly. "But it does beg the question was there any connection between that game and what happened today?"

"Yes, Lucius Malfoy was attempting to disrupt Quidditch games. I believe his intentions were for the wards to be upgraded."

"Why would he want to do that?"

Harry shrugged, a jolt of pain coursed up from his leg. It took a moment for the sensation to go away. "Excuse me," Harry coughed. "The best guess is that he intended for me to be trapped inside like you witnessed today."

"Indeed, but that was some remarkable wand work, Potter. That leads me to the last question. Did you really…" he swallowed. "Kill You-Know-Who."

"Voldemort you mean." Bobby flinched, while Witches and Wizards gasped all around Harry. He grew slightly annoyed. "It's only a name and not even his real one. But yes, I did end his life, but it could only have been done with the support of dozens of witches and wizards who sacrificed much. Many of them gave their lives to give us the freedom we have today." Harry breathed in deeply. "What you saw today was the desperate attempts of a desperate man. With his downfall we have hopefully seen the last of Voldemort's Death Eaters."

"A relief, Potter. I would just like to say, from people all over the country, thank you."

Ginny interjected. "Thank you, Bobby. But Harry really needs some medical attention."

"Of course." The little commentator jumped out of their way. Ginny began to walk again. Thankfully the crowd parted before them. He could feel the strain he was putting on her body. "Almost there."

She set her jaw, but the Apparation point arrived allowing them to leave the noise and chaos for the tranquillity of his flat.

A week after the games Harry, dressed in a new pair of Muggle jeans and a black collared shirt, arrived at the Burrow. The odd house materialised as his vision steadied; for the first time in months he felt nervous seeing the house. His hand ran through the length of his unruly hair. He straightened his shirt slightly. Finally, feeling ready he walked as calmly and steadily as possible towards the house.

He knocked on the door then listened for the usual signs of Weasley life. Some of the tension ebbed away. Ginny could be heard shouting something about not being ready. Her mother's voice rose even louder, but he could barely make out the words. It sounded something like she was pretty enough. He smiled.

The door flew open so rapidly that the smile remained frozen in place. When he blinked and managed to focus on the sight before him the faint smile began to stretch.

"Hi…" he stammered, eyelids fluttering again. "You look… wow."

Ginny's cheeks grew a shade redder and her eyes darted off into the distance. Her long hair was straighter than ever and hung well past her shoulders. The lines framed a face with freckles subdued by a thin layer of makeup. His eyes lingered on her nose trying to absorb the image. "I can't remember ever seeing you with makeup."

"I've not really put any on before. Just a bit of lipstick and eyeliner for Ron's wedding." She glanced up at his face. "Do you like it?"

"Of course." He reached out and let his fingers run through silky strands of red hair. "But you are always beautiful."

She bit her bottom lip, refusing to look up at him. He chuckled then captured her lips with his. Her body sagged slightly and he wondered if she felt as good as he did.

"So," she said when the broke apart. "Where are we going?"

"I thought a nice dinner in Diagon Alley could be nice. You know, seeing that this is our first date as…" He looked over Ginny's shoulder. "What did the prophet call us?"

"Golden Couple." Ginny furrowed her forehead.

"Don't you like it?" he joked.

"Like! I hate it. Everyone will be looking at me! At us!"

He grimaced at the thought. "At least they will be looking at us because of something that makes us immeasurably happy instead of for something we did."

A small glimmer of light flashed in the depths of her brown eyes. Her posture improved; she seemed confident for the first time this evening. "Lead the way."

"My pleasure, Miss Weasley."

They arrived in the middle of a somewhat busy Diagon Alley. Harry held her arm comfortingly. Like a pebble dropping into a pond a ripple of excitement spread. People stopped walking, some pointed, others whispered excitedly. It helped to have a loving presence nearby.

Harry's grip grew a bit firmer as he too began to rely on her presence for support. "If you ever doubted our fame."

Ginny chuckled nervously. "All illusions have been thoroughly dispelled, thank you."

She laughed a bit more freely while squeezing his arm. The crowd parted slowly as they walked. From behind excited squeals could be heard coming from children too young to have gone to Hogwarts.

It took less than a minute for a small girl to come running towards them; a rolled up magical poster held firmly in her excited hands. "Please, sir." Her greyish eyes and sandy brown hair would have melted the coldest of hearts.

A young mother, red from shame, came hurrying behind. "I'm terribly sorry, Mr Potter. She just ran. I couldn't keep up in this crowd."

He bent down, eyes almost level with the young girl's. "What have you got there?" he asked.

"A poster of you," she said proudly while unrolling it. "See! It's you!"

"Indeed, would you like me to sign it?"

"Please!" The girl jumped up and down excitedly. The poor mother did not know where to look. People were staring, other kids were running about. Ginny swallowed, they were all heading towards the Quidditch store. Harry would be very busy.

Harry looked completely at ease as he removed his wand from the holster on his forearm. "What is your name?"

"Sandra," the little girl replied quickly.

Harry nodded. "A beautiful name." He waved his wand and her name together with a small signature appeared on the bottom right hand corner.

The girl grabbed the poster, and began jumping up and down. "Look, mummy! Look! He… he…"

The woman seemed very grateful. "Now please thank the man."

The girl stopped for a fraction of a second. "Thank you, Mr Potter." Then she continued her dance.

Harry stood and wrapped an arm around Ginny. "They'll be flocking in now."

"We'll be late for dinner," Ginny groaned.

"I'm sure they'll keep our table."

The next child to arrive was another girl. Ginny let go of Harry to allow him some freedom to talk to her. However, the girl hurried straight to Ginny. In her hand she clutched a poster with a photo that could only have come from the semi-final. For a brief moment Ginny stared at the moving picture. Her mind clicked back into place when she heard Harry talking to a small boy by his side.

She dropped to look the small girl in the eye; just like Harry did. "Hi," Ginny began; feeling bewildered. She had been well known before, but reaching the final and dating Harry had suddenly placed her in a different league. Children had never come to her for autographs before.

"You're amazing!" The girl shrieked then gulped in lungful's of air. She'd sprinted all the way. "I want to be just like you."

It took a moment for the words to catch up with Ginny. "Well it takes hard work and determination to succeed." The girl drank in the words. Words her mother had probably whispered to her before.

Ginny removed her wand and stopped just before signing. "What is your name?"

"Melissa," the girl stammered.

Ginny waved her wand and watched as the words appeared on the small poster. She handed it back feeling a bit overwhelmed. She stood and faced a man holding the girls shoulders. He smiled gratefully. "Thank you," he said and gently began to lead the girl away.

Before Ginny could reply a boy standing on tiptoes caught her attention, she let out a soft gasp. What surprised her was the picture on the poster. It was of her and Harry moments after leaving the pitch together. The image had been slightly altered to remove signs of blood. They held onto each other looking exhausted, but they were happy, smiling even. It was the first public picture of Harry and Ginny, the Golden Couple.

Bright orange beside dark green; somehow Ginny got the feeling this was the first of many posters like this. Quidditch had just witnessed the birth of what the Prophet had called an intense rivalry unseen since the game began.

"Harry," she called. He came closer. "Want to sign this one together?"

He glanced down at the poster, for moment she sensed his own surprise. "Sure." Their wands moved beside each other and two names appeared. The boy glowed with excitement. The crowd had moved in a bit closer, and for the first time Ginny did not feel afraid or anxious. In fact she was having the time of her life.

After about an hour, an exhausted Harry managed to drag their bodies away from the thinning crowds and towards the restaurant. A waiter appeared immediately and led them to a prominent table in the middle of the floor.

A bottle of red wine was quickly offered. "With our compliments." Harry turned to Ginny who gestured that the choice was fine.

"Thank you," Harry finally said. The waiter uncorked the bottle the Muggle way and poured a small bit into Harry's glass who took a sip and nodded. "It's wonderful."

The waiter practically tripped over his own feet as he poured Ginny some wine and then filled Harry's. The man placed the bottle back on the table, then with a flick of his wand two menus appeared.

"So much for privacy and a quiet dinner," Harry mumbled as the waiter left. "Sorry."

She reached across the table, looking relaxed and happy, to hold his hand. "We've been on dozens of quiet unseen dates. I guess we can let this one slide."

"I could put up a notice-me-not charm," he ventured.

She giggled. "I don't think a charm could stop anyone from noticing us tonight, Harry."

He groaned jokingly. "Fame is probably the greatest curse known to man."

Ginny nearly choked on the red wine she'd just taken a sip of. "Do you think it's going to go to my head?"

He raised his glass. "No, Ginny. It will change you as it already has, but I think you will remain true to yourself." She brought her glass up and clinked it against his.

"How much did it change you?"

"No idea," Harry replied. "It's difficult to judge from within your own skin."

"I guess." Her eyes wondered down towards the menus. "What will you be having, Harry?"

He eyed the choices, not that there were many. Each seemed more expensive than the last. "Um… let me see… the fillet looks good."

"Is it?" Her head came up quickly.

He shrugged. "Don't know, but it is expensive enough."

She shook her head. The movement caused her hair, which had already begun to return to its normal wavy appearance, to bounce about. His menu lay forgotten, he would order the fillet, Ginny was much more fascinating to study. Her eyes moved rapidly over the menu. She turned it around, a look of frustration on her face.

"What?" Harry asked.

Ginny dropped the menu. "I really have this urge to get a pizza." Harry stared at her, feeling all the love in the world. She leaned forwards. "I know this great little place; it's Italian. Some guy took me there."

"Did he have good taste?" His throat grew dry when Ginny talked in this manner. A large sip of wine helped a bit.

"I can't really remember, but he was really cute; acting all shy and nervous. The poor lad almost looked lost."

"I was… I did not…" Ginny began to laugh. "I seem to recall you being no better, Miss Weasley."

People were looking at them, and he did not care. It felt good. Their laughter only died down when the waiter appeared. Harry ordered the fillet and Ginny a plate of ribs.

"Ribs?" Harry asked. "Not very lady like."

"Who ever said I was a lady, Harry. I'm a girl that can kick your backside in Quidditch."

"Are you trying to intimidate me, Weasley?" Harry breathed heavily, the room growing hot. She was really working her magic on him tonight.

"Do I need to?" A jolt of electricity shot up his leg when her foot touched him. "I've already got you where I want."

A flash startled them both. Harry faced the door to see a photographer standing just inside the restaurant. The manager appeared and shoved the man out of the door before coming over to their table.

"I am terribly sorry, Mr Potter, Miss Weasley. It will not happen again."

"It was nothing. Thank you for handling the matter efficiently."

The manager nodded in a business-like manner then left.

When Harry faced Ginny again the energy and tension of moments before was broken. He sighed. "So how is it going with Ron and Hermione?"

Ginny began to answer.

Ginny leapt out of the fireplace, startling her mother. "How dare they say that?" she shouted.

"Ignore it, Ginny," her mother replied quickly. Ginny noticed a copy of the Witch Weekly beside her mother.

Ginny grabbed the magazine and threw it to the floor; it burst into flames. The image of Harry and her having dinner curled up and then turned to ash.

"How can they even suggest that I am using him to advance my career?" She floated then threw the still burning magazine into the fireplace before it could destroy the Burrow. "Saying I paid children to make myself appear more friendly! To suck up to Harry!"

"What did Harry have to say about the article?" her mother asked from where she sat calmly.

Ginny let some of her anger go. "He laughed. It was so infuriating! So I just left."

Her mother sighed, she probably predicted Ginny's fit. "There is nothing to worry about, dear. Journalists will write something shocking. They need to wow their readers. It's how they make their money."

Ginny dropped onto the couch. "They called me a scarlet woman, mum! A devious manipulator who uses men to advance her own social standing."

"Is that the truth?" her mother asked.

Ginny jumped to her feet, face outraged. "What! Of course not! How could you even think that of me?"

Her mother gave a motherly smile. "Then prove them wrong. It will take time, but in a few months or years when you and Harry are still happily married they will see you only as the faithful woman who can beat anyone on the Quidditch pitch."

"How can you be so sure?"

Her mother pulled Ginny into a hug. "Because I've seen more famous people come and go than you know. The trend is always the same. Given enough time they will seek out someone else to harass."

The floo burst into life and a very distressed Harry came stumbling out. He tripped over untied shoelaces and came crashing down before Ginny. All the tension, anger and

frustrations came out in one big laugh that did not want to end. Harry had long since stood, but she could not stop. Her stomach and sides began to hurt, but the image of a half-dressed Harry running after her only to fall on his face wouldn't leave her.

"Tomorrow!" Ginny cried out in frustration. "The wedding is tomorrow and the dress is still not done."

Hermione shook her head, brown hair bouncing about as she hurried around the room. "It's almost done, Ginny. If you would only stand still for your mother."

"Ouch!" Mrs Weasley cried out. "Listen to Hermione. I just pricked my finger. If you don't keep still I'll permanently stitch this dress to your leg."

"Sorry, mum," Ginny sighed; hands dropping to her side. "It's just the dress needs to be finished. The decorations need to be placed and ribbons need to be tied on the menus. I need to check the flowers and the cake. I've got to pack some things."

"Relax," Hermione laughed. "We are way ahead of where I was the day before my wedding. And you've got about a quarter of the amount of people coming! Besides you've already moved your things to Harry's flat." The girl frowned. "Though the place still seemed rather empty."

Ginny snorted, knowing full well that all their things were in their new home. "That quarter is still quite big enough, thank you."

Hermione shook her head, then looked across at the menus. "Will it help if I folded those?"

"Please!" Ginny pleaded. Her sister-in-law smiled then made her way towards the table to begin working.

A small portion of tension left Ginny, but there remained a heap left to get out of her system. She had this nagging feeling that she would not be at ease until she saw Harry at the altar. And then Hermione still had something organised for this evening at the Burrow.

Harry, having finished moving everything to their new home by himself, much to Kreature's displeasure arrived back at his flat for his last night there. A note lay on the table, his name written in Ginny's neat hand.

The piece of parchment reminded Harry to send his reply to Hermione. He scribbled a few things down next to Hermione's writing then called Hedwig and sent her off to the Burrow. He hoped things were still going well at the Burrow, but there was nothing he could do at the moment. Ginny was still working on the dress, so being anywhere near the house was a big no. There after she would be kept busy by Hermione and her plans.

With little else to do he picked up Ginny's letter. It opened at his touch. He read the lines, feeling even more love growing inside of him. The letter closed once he'd finished. It made him wonder by how much more his capacity to love could grow. Did he have room in him for children? He laughed at his own doubts.

Kreacher appeared and joined Harry who went to sit on the couch. "Last night in this small place."

"Kreacher is pleased. Kreacher will be having more to do."

Harry laughed as he summoned a bottle of the house elf's favourite drink. It smelt horrid, but Kreacher enjoyed it. He handed a cup to the elf and poured him a drink. The elf began to object, but Harry continued. "I'm allowed to do something for you once in a while."

"It's not natural." The elf grumbled a few more choice words learnt from Sirius.

Harry took it all in his stride. He'd spent the previous evening with his future brother-in-laws, a bachelors of sorts. Tonight, however, he wanted to be alone with his family.

The fireplace came to life and Gwenog stepped through. "Evening, Harry."

"Hi." He stood and enveloped her in a hug. He stepped away to pour her a drink.

"Thanks." She took the cup and studied the flat. "It feels so empty. I thought Ginny brought her stuff."

"She did," Harry replied.

The woman spun on her heels, eyes boring into his. "You bought a house!"

"I… maybe," Harry tried to evade. It was no use. "I might have."

"Good, I can't have my Seeker living in dingy place like this." She sniffed.

"It's not dingy."

"If you say so, Harry." She tapped his cheek playfully and then went to sit. "So what are we doing tonight?"

He sighed. "I guess I wanted the night to remember them." His gaze lifted towards the pictures hanging over the fireplace.

Gwenog raised a glass to the wall. "They would have loved to be here."

Harry did the same. In a way he felt sad while looking into the faces of his mother and father. He could, however, sense their pride in him and for once he accepted it. A tear, not from sorrow, slipped down his face. Tomorrow he would be forming his own family.

Ginny came down from her room, dressed for a nice peaceful evening before her wedding. Not that she was planning to do nothing. The list of items that needed to be checked still remained unfinished.

The room exploded into life. "Surprise!"

Ginny leapt backwards, shouting. "Merlin!" Her hand went to her chest. "Hermione!"

The bushy haired girl Ginny had once deemed a friend came into view. In her hand she held a strange looking robe. "Just put this on."

"I am not wearing that!" Ginny shrieked.

Hermione did not look flustered in the least. "I did."

"But… but!" Ginny stared in shock at the funny costume. The fact that Fleur held a bag full of makeup in her hand did not help. There was only one thing left to do for the greatest female Seeker of the season; she sagged in defeat. "I guess you really did plan something big. I was hoping for a quiet drink."

"Did you doubt me?" Hermione asked.

Ginny scowled. "Actually, for once I'd hoped you had forgotten something." Hermione smiled as she handed Ginny the robe, she pulled it over her head.

It felt ridiculous standing before her brother's wives and girlfriends, teammates, not to mention her mother and Hermione's mother. The crazy frilly outfit did not help; though the pile of gifts did lesson some worries. Perhaps she would get some nice books and cooking utensils like Hermione did a few months ago.

Hermione got everyone's attention once Ginny was presentable. "I'm sorry that this is being held so late, but the Quidditch season has kept someone rather busy." Hermione glanced at Ginny looking slightly bemused.

"I had nothing to do with that," Victoria said loudly. "The blame lies solely on Gwenog's shoulders."

Ginny bit back a retort, thinking about all those extra hours of drills the Captain made them attend.

Ginny's mother approached to lead Ginny into a chair standing away from the others. The gifts happened to packed neatly around it and bunch of balloons hung from the roof above. "Now sit right there and look pretty." Mrs Weasley hastily tied a scarf or something that resembled one around Ginny's head. She took it in stride this time; she looked the fool, but that was the point wasn't it?

"So what are we going to do?" Ginny asked. "Play games?"

Hermione wriggled in between Percy's wife and Fleur. "We are going to start with some questions."

"What sort of questions?" Ginny replied softly. The looks of anticipation on everyone's faces did not bode well for her.

Hermione looked unusually predatory. "Why don't you pop one of those balloons and find out."

There was no avoiding it so Ginny raised her wand; a balloon popped and a small piece of parchment drifted downwards to land on Ginny's lap. With trepidation she unfurled the parchment and read it.

"Read it aloud, Ginny!" Katie called out from behind.

Ginny relaxed, this wasn't going to be too bad. "What is Harry's favourite dessert?"

Everyone looked at her, waiting. "Um… treacle tart?" She ventured.

Hermione glanced at a piece of paper. "It's seems Ginny knows at least one thing about Harry." She looked up. "Ok, that means you can open a present."

"Yeah!" Ginny actually felt excited as she reached out and picked up a small box. Start with something small and then build up from there. With box in hand, Ginny quickly studied the women in the room. Victoria had an unusual gleam in her eyes. "Kind of small." She felt the weight. "Not very heavy."

"Just open the thing!" Mrs Weasley called out.

"Alright, mum." Ginny quickly loosened the small bow and tore open the packaging. It really was a small black box. Nervously she lifted the lid and found a small black something lying inside. "Huh?" Her finger removed the item and held it up. Her eyes widened, then her entire body flushed as she tried to stuff it back. "Next question," Ginny squeaked.

The entire room was laughing, even her mother. Ginny found herself nervously chuckling along. "Harry's going to love that!" Victoria shouted. "I bought it especially for the final."

"Safe money is on the Harpies!" Katie called out. "Poor Harry won't know where to look."

"What's the point in looking," Ginny managed to say. "There's nothing to see with that thing."

"Oh, I think there'll be plenty."

"Mum!" Ginny shouted; her faced had never felt so warm before. She popped a balloon, hoping it would shift the conversation. Another question drifted down to her.

Ginny glanced at the words. Then up at Hermione. "You've got to be joking."

"Aloud if you please."

Ginny groaned, then answered.

Ginny managed to crawl into bed four hours later, the soft pillow welcoming. It was still an hour before midnight, but everything was done. The sudden calm surreal. For a long time she lay staring up at the ceiling and her walls. This was the last time she would be in here as Ginevra Weasley. By tomorrow this time she would be lying beside Harry in their new home. Her mind raced at the future awaiting her, it proved almost overwhelming.

"You still awake?"

Ginny sat up. "Yes, dad."

He moved into the room and sat down beside her. "Have a good party?"

She blushed at all the memories. "It was fun."

"That's good. Your mother is still radiant. She can't stop babbling." Ginny hid her face behind a pillow. "You ready?" he asked.

The pillow dropped away and onto her lap. She suddenly felt like a very small girl again. It reminded her of the night before her first year at Hogwarts. "I guess."

His large hand took hold of hers. "It's alright to be nervous. You're taking a big step tomorrow."

She snorted. "I'm sure, dad."

His grip tightened. "I can't believe you're all grown up." She could hear his voice growing emotional. "My Little Harpy..." He wiped at his face. "It's going to be quiet without you around."

Ginny shifted forwards and wrapped her arms around her father. "We won't be far away."

He nodded. "Harry's flat is just a floo away."

"We've got a house, dad." He straightened. "A real home where we can raise a family."

"That's wonderful, dear." She could hear the joy in his voice. "Just invite us when you're ready."

"You and mum will be the first ones over."

He smiled and pushed her back down. "Now go to sleep. You have a big day tomorrow."

"I love you, dad." She whispered up to him.

He leaned down and kissed her forehead. "I love you too, Ginny."

Her room felt empty with her father's departure. And to her it signified the change in her life. That emptiness would soon be filled by Harry.

Harry woke early after a late night of reminiscing with Kreature and Gwenog. The room felt empty now that he was alone. It was not surprising considering it held nothing but a bed and his wedding suit. His watch, lying beside him on the bed, told him that he still had a few more hours before his presence would be needed at the Burrow. Swinging his legs out from under the duvet he sat wondering what to do.

It took a few minutes before he moved again. He'd decided that a shower was what he needed. The hot water helped; though everything still seemed different. He wondered what it was, but the world felt as if it had changed. He grinned nervously while drying his hair as he stared into the mirror. It was then that he heard someone Apparate into the house.

"You in here, mate?" Ron's familiar voice called out from the kitchen.

Harry dropped the towel and began to dress. "Just getting ready. I'll be out there in a minute."

"Right!" Ron shouted back though the flat was small enough for someone to talk. Harry chuckled, the guy was probably even more nervous.

He took his time getting dressed in the new black suit and white shirt he'd bought a few weeks ago for this day. He took his time. His tie was still in the room so he left the top button undone. Eventually he had to leave the calm and quiet of the bathroom. He grabbed the hanger with his tie, the colour of which still confused him, and strode into the main living area.

Ron was sitting on the couch already fully dressed and ready for the day. "You look good," Harry said. "Hermione will probably appreciate the view."

Ron snorted. "Haven't seen her today. She left to go help my sister before I even woke up." He scratched his red hair. "Don't know what they need to be up so early for."

Harry shook his head absently. "They are going to some spa to relax, then they need to get their hair done, and then there is makeup and the dress."

"Blimey, I forgot about all that." Ron whispered. "So what's our plan, mate?"

Harry shrugged. "Well I've got to tie my tie."

Ron grinned. "Tricky those things. It might take a while."

The pair laughed as Harry held up a pair of shaking hands. "Yeah, a few hours at least."

Ginny sat in a Muggle hair salon. She'd come here with Hermione a few months ago for her friend's wedding, but Ginny had not had her hair done then. This was the first time a Muggle was touching her hair. Those weird metal scissor things made strange noises as the woman trimmed Ginny's hair slightly.

Hermione sat beside Ginny, a glass of champagne in her hand. Ginny's own glass lay half empty and forgotten before her on the counter. Instead of looking around, she was staring into the mirror, at herself. The hairdresser had stuck all kinds of funny things in Ginny's hair, the purpose of which she could only imagine.

"How you holding up there?" Hermione asked.

"F… fine," she replied; the frown on her forehead probably said otherwise.

Hermione chuckled. "Relax, you will look beautiful?"

"You already are." Ginny's mother had come to stand beside her daughter. She had her own glass of champagne and was taking a few sips every now and again.

"My hair has never been beautiful. Just look at this colour!"

The hairdresser made an annoyed sound from behind. "Do you know how much women spend on hair dyes to get your natural colour?"

"No," Ginny replied. "Who would want this shade of red?"

The woman sighed, knowing a last cause. "I guess everyone always wants someone else's colour." The woman continued in silence and finally began to remove all the items in Ginny's hair.

When she was done even Ginny had to suppress a small grin. It actually looked nice.

"Harry!" Ron clapped his hands together; the motion startled a nervous Harry. "I guess it's time for us to go to the Burrow. The guests will be starting to arrive soon."

Harry, not feeling ready, closed his eyes. "Right." He gathered his wits and quickly tied his tie, making sure it was tidy and properly aligned. When he was done, he stood in the middle of the rather empty flat. "This is it."

"Regrets?" Ron asked.

"None," Harry replied easily. "It's just feels strange, standing here and knowing that this is the end of a chapter."

"And the beginning of a much better one."

Harry chuckled. "I hope." He clapped his friend's shoulder. "Let's go before I really do get cold feet."

Ron shook his head. "You know, you're getting through this much better than I did."

"I had the unfortunate pleasure of seeing you nearly getting married in an orange shirt with no pants."

"I did not." Ron grumbled.

"If you say so," Harry teased before growing a bit more serious. "I think I had more time to prepare for all of this."

"You're also much more level headed than me."

"Am I?" Harry asked. "Or do I just hide it a bit better?"

Ron studied Harry. "Yeah, you're petrified inside."

"Downright paralysed."

Ron just shook his head. "Come on mate. Let's get you to the Burrow."

He removed his wand, as did Harry. With two pops the pair vanished. The world steadied to the wonder that was the Burrow on the day of a wedding. The house still looked like it was being held together by magic. Harry turned and inhaled. Everything was arranged perfectly and held a sort of magical beauty.

A small platform stood at the front for the minister. It was raised just enough so that all the guests would be able to see them. A few rows of white seats moved away from the platform in a small arc. Leading away from the Burrow towards the platform was a small pathway lined with pale green ribbons. The longer he looked around the more he noticed all the gentle earthy colours. Reds, greens and yellows were scattered about garden in the form of flowers and decorations. Each chair had an alternating ribbon wrapped around the backrest. The whole garden felt at ease and nothing stood out or competed with any other section. He looked down at his tie. The soft green colour made sense to him now.

"You over it already?" Ron asked.

"Ginny sure did put a lot of thought into this."

His friend snorted. "Had Hermione barmy with all the ideas and things."

Harry laughed. "Sorry for putting you through it, Ron."

"No problem, mate. If you'd seen Ginny's face during their planning then you would understand why I'm not bothered."

Harry continued to scan the transformation. "She put poured her heart into this, didn't she?"

"All for you, mate. All for you."

Harry gripped his future brother-in-law's shoulder. "She is something, isn't she?"

"The best."

He faced Ron. "Just don't let Hermione hear you say that."

His friend shook his head. "They're equally the best."

Harry smiled. "I think I can agree on that one; even if I do love Ginny a bit more."

They were interrupted as the first guests began to arrive. The pair made their way to the witch and wizard. So began the eventful hour of waiting for Ginny to leave the house.

Hermione had tears in her eyes. Ginny's mother was trying to wipe away the dampness on her cheeks. Even her father stood to one side trying hard to blink away the wetness in his eyes.

"I haven't even said 'I do' yet!" Ginny huffed at the people in her room at the Burrow. "Honestly, how are you going to get me down the aisle?"

"It's just…" her mother wailed again. "You look beautiful."

Her father nodded, the back of his hand moving across his face. "I can't believe my little girl is getting married today." She managed a smile. He looked handsome in the Muggle suit Harry had helped him buy. The tie he wore was a darkish red, the same as Ron's. Harry's was a much more special colour, though not the same as his emerald eyes. Green would always remind her of him.

"Well you better go wait downstairs for this little girl needs to get dressed."

He frowned then jumped. "Of course, I'll be waiting by the door." She stood and hugged him before he could leave. He squeezed her tightly; his hold had always been comforting. He let go eventually and vanished.

Hermione stood with her arms on her hips. The three women in the room were all looking at the same thing; a white dress, suspended magical to the one side. "Better get you ready?"

With a wave of her mother's wand the dress floated towards Ginny where it settled in a neat heap before her feet. "Here we go," Ginny whispered before undressing. Her smooth legs stepped over the heap and into the middle. Hermione immediately began to lift it into place. A few waves of a wand later the dress sat securely to her form.

Her mother stepped back, hand in front of her mouth. "Is it that bad?" Ginny asked.

"When you first mentioned what you wanted I laughed." She shook her head, red hair swaying. "It's perfect."

"It's just," Hermione stopped. "Just pure Ginny."

The long train made it difficult to move in the confined space of her small room, but Ginny managed to turn to face the large mirror brought in for the day. The image did not fit and yet it did. Her hands moved down the side of the dress as she tried to straighten non-existent folds. The various lace flowers embroidered across her breasts and midsection felt rough. It contrasted well with the slightly off white raw silk of the dress. The lace extended down her sides to the hem of the dress and the train.

"Shoes?" Ginny said suddenly. "I almost forgot about my shoes."

"I didn't" Hermione chuckled, holding up a box.

"Thank Merlin. I knew I asked you to be my Matron of Honour for a reason."

With the help of Hermione and her mother, Ginny managed to slip on the pair of white flat soled shoes. Heels would not do in the garden, especially considering the million stumbles at the Quidditch function before the start of the season.

"All done," Ginny sighed.

"Not quite." Her mother moved to stand behind Ginny. They were both looking at her reflection in the mirror. Before Ginny could argue her mother held up a thin golden necklace. "Nothing fancy or expensive, but this was your father's first gift to me after our wedding." Her mother fastened it around her neck. "Your poor father saved for nearly the entire year."

Ginny touched the necklace with her right hand. "It's… thank you, mum."

Hermione shouted something about not ruining makeup by crying now. The tears turned into a laugh. "We better get you downstairs. I can hear the crowd growing restless."

Ginny faced the door out of her room. Her mother and Hermione left first, leaving Ginny alone. Her hand touched the door frame; her head turned around. It was time to leave her childhood behind. "Good bye." Then she left.

Downstairs Ron stood waiting beside Hermione. His mouth dropped open at the sight. Hermione closed it for him.

Her father approached, holding out his arm. Ginny quickly tucked her arm through his. "What have you done with my little girl?" he whispered.

"She's up there in my room. You can go talk to her any time."

His eyes shone as he gently kissed the top of her head. Outside the music changed. "Shall we, Ginny."

"When you're ready to give me away?"

He chuckled. "That might take a while." She squeezed his hand. "Alright, I'm moving."

Together with her father they stepped out of the Burrow and out into a sunny day. They had not invited many people, but it still felt as if hundreds of the faces were staring at her. Her instincts told her to run. Her father's weight and firm hold held her back. His presence settled some of the tingling nerves she'd been feeling but trying to ignore. Her head lifted, following the narrow straight path between the white chairs with coloured ribbons. Slowly her gaze travelled further; towards Harry.

He stood alone, suit and green tie perfect. The sight brought some confidence. A silly grin was plastered on his face, his eyes were wide in astonishment. She smiled as well.

Harry stood nervously by the dais; Kingsley before him. He was performing the ceremony as a personal favour for Harry. Ron had disappeared towards the Burrow leaving Harry alone. The guests had found their seats and were talking excitedly amongst themselves.

Oliver Wood and his wife. Victoria Hughes and the man she'd been dating seriously for years, though she would never admit to loving the guy. Patrick Edgecombe and his wife. Katie Bell and Angelina Johnson with their dates. All of Ginny's brothers and attachments. Gwenog sat alone. Kreacher was busy cooking, his duty was what gave the little elf pleasure in life. Catherine Spinnet sat beside Mitchun. Jonathon Markam had an arm around a wide eyed blonde who couldn't stop gaping at all the celebrities at the wedding. Michelle Urquhart sat quietly at the back alongside Samantha Evans, neither had dates. Harpies had never been good at relationships or rather few wizards could stomach such driven women. Then there were a few family friends of the Weasleys, but only a handful. Lastly, Albus Dumbledore sat seated near the back talking animatedly with Minerva McGonagall. In all the wedding was rather small, something Harry appreciated; though it did not make him feel any less self-conscious.

"She's ready," Kingsley whispered to Harry. He took a deep breath and double checked his suite to make sure it was sitting perfectly, which it was as he had been fiddling with it every few minutes for the past hour while he'd been waiting. Not to mention all the times he'd flattened his hair.

The music changed; as one the guests rose and faced the Burrow. If Harry squinted he could make out a faint hint of a white dress through the window. His heart rate increased. It felt nothing like a big game.

The door opened, Ron and Hermione were first to emerge. Hermione looked wonderful in her reddish dress that matched Ron's tie. Her bushy hair had once again been tamed to bring out the woman behind his bookworm friend. Ron was beaming with pride, and he should be, Hermione had been a wonderful catch.

Next to come out were Molly and Bill. She walked gracefully as Bill helped her steadily along. Her eyes were already puffy, but the smile was so broad that those tears could not be mistaken for anything other than happiness.

Ron let go of Hermione as they separated to stand at either side of the platform. Hermione to Ginny's side, Ron to Harry's.

The music shifted again drawing Harry's attention to the Burrow. He blinked, then blinked again. His eyes widened then narrowed, all the while trying to process the image of Ginny; his bride.

She was looking up at him, her lips began to spread into a wide smile. Her father held her arm, but the show was completely stolen by the daughter he guided down the grassy path. Her hair hung in loose curls and over her right shoulder, leaving her left neck exposed. Her cheeks were tinted with a slight undertone of bronze. It emphasised the natural beauty of her freckles without bringing attention to them. Her brown eyes practically shone. Harry was still trying to drink in her face and hair when Arthur approached to hand his daughter over to Harry who had yet to see the dress.

"Take care of her, Harry."

"I will, sir."

Arthur let go off Ginny and kissed her forehead gently. Then he moved to join Molly. Ginny reached out and took hold of his. Together they faced Kingsley who gestured for the guests to sit. The man began to speak, but Harry heard nothing. He was too busy thinking about Ginny, the best thing to have ever happened to him, as she stood beside him practically glowing.

Ginny faced Harry. To her right a blur of guests sat staring up at her. To the left Shacklebolt was talking, she knew the words, but they barely registered. "I do," she said automatically when he paused.

The Minister of Magic laughed softly. "Eager are we?"

The guests chuckled along and Harry, looking right at her with his amazing eyes, smiled. Ginny gripped the ring Hermione had just given her. Kingsley was speaking again. She felt Harry take her hand and say something. She glanced down to see him push a thin ring, which matched her engagement ring, onto her ring finger. She mimicked his movements and words. Her mind was not working, yet it was doing.

"I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

Harry leaned towards her. His lips touched hers gently before applying a bit more pressure. She had to resist the urge to deepen the kiss, but she wanted to. They broke apart. Harry, her husband she thought, was beaming down at her. She could feel her own smile, even if she could not remember smiling. He held onto her hand and turned her to face the standing guests. The people immediately shuffled closer to the aisle.

From behind Shacklebolt announced. "I present to you, Mr and Mrs Potter."

Harry and Ginny began to walk. Every last person was laughing and talking excitedly as they lined the pathway leading towards the Burrow. The moment they reached them wands began to explode and confetti flew into the air before beginning to rain down upon them.

Harry ducked his head. "Shall we run for it?"

"With pleasure." She let out a small yelp in surprise as Harry began to hurry. The confetti still managed to fall down holes she did not know her dress had. When they stopped Harry was laughing as he tried to shake the stuff off him. Glancing back, she saw the entire length of her train was covered in coloured confetti. "Harry," she called.

"Yes?" he asked.

"Come here." She pulled him down towards him, this time the kiss was a bit deeper. A few people whistled and others clapped. "Love you."

"Love you too."

Some of guests had moved towards the reception area. Harry and Ginny were still standing where they had stopped after running through the torrent of confetti. The guests still remaining waited for their chance to pay their respects to the bride and groom.

"You alright there, mate?" Ron asked Harry when he approached with Hermione.

"Just wishing my parents could be here," Harry managed to say. His arm swept over the gathering people. "This is what they sacrificed their lives for, Ron. They gave it all so that I could have this."

Ron clapped Harry's shoulder. "They'd be proud of you, Harry. Look at what you did and what you became. And now you're standing here, married to the second best witch in all of Britain."

"Second?" Harry asked, grinning.

His brother-in-law looked serious. "I've been doing some thinking since we talked earlier and I came to a most scandalous realisation. Ginny's good, but nowhere near as great as my Hermione." Harry fought the urge to burst out laughing. "But I will agree that my sister is something special."

Music, magically created, wafted across the lawn. Harry relaxed. He'd had a hard time keeping up with all the handshakes and hugs. Yet, in everyone he felt nothing but love. The wedding might have been quick, but he'd been accepted into the family with open arms.

"Are you ready?" a small guy asked Harry and Ginny. "The light is almost perfect at the moment."

Harry turned to face Colin Creevey, he'd come highly recommended as a photographer. "Sure, Colin." Harry took hold of his wife's hand. "You done talking to everyone?"

"I think so," she replied. "There'll be time at the reception to talk more."

Harry gestured down the garden. "Lead the way, Mr Creevey."

The silence and time away from the throng proved to be a nice respite. Most of the noise came from her dress trailing along behind them. Colin stopped. "I would like to start here. The garden is most beautiful in this corner."

"And away from prying eyes," Ginny joked.

"That to." Colin quickly rummaged in his bag and swiftly swapped the lens.

"It's so peaceful out here," Harry whispered, wrapping his arms around her waist.

Her arms curled around him. "Do you think they'll miss us?"

"Probably not, there's an open bar, a dance floor and a few single witches and wizards."

The flash on top of Colin's camera did not startle Harry or Ginny. They'd become used to photographers over the past few weeks. They did turn to face him though. "A heads up please, Colin."

The little guy grinned. "A natural pose like that can't be created. Even with my talents." He took a step towards them. "This is a good position. Um… Harry just straighten your back a bit. Ginny try to move a tiny bit closer." Harry felt his wife shuffle a bit. "That's good, now wrap your arm around her waist… excellent." Colin took a step back and took a few shots.

"This feels so odd," Ginny muttered as Colin nudged them into another pose. This time they made as if they were walking, hands held together, staring at one another.

"At least the press photographers don't tell us how to stand."

The time, however, allowed Harry to really study the intricate details of her dress. "How many hours did you spend on the dress?"

"Why?" she asked as Colin snapped a few photos of her dress.

"It's amazing." He reached out and let his hard fingers run over the intricate lace stitched to the fabric. "You've got good taste."

Her hand's moved down the sides of her dress self-consciously. "Too many hours to count. My fingers were sore and my back ached."

"I remember those nights where I had to work out the knots in your back."

The flash went off again as Harry trailed his hand down her waist following the flow of the pattern. He bent down to study the length of the train. The detailed work did not end. "Makes me feel guilty for walking into a shop and buying a suit."

"Nonsense, Harry. You look very handsome in that suit."

He stood and looked down at the suit and tie he wore. "Well you did make the tie for me."

"Lovingly made the tie." She stood on tiptoes to kiss him. The flash went off again.

"Well that covers your photos. I think I need to get the family here before the light fails completely."

Creevy hurried away. For the first time they were utterly alone. "How do you feel, Mrs Potter?"

"Happy," she sighed. He reached out and touched the red locks falling over her right shoulder. "You?"

"Nervous about opening the dance floor." She swatted him with her hand. "You look so beautiful. I never imagined your hair like this, but… wow."

Her entire face radiated joy. "I was a bit nervous about it, but the hairdresser had me convinced."

He kissed her softly again. The time alone could not last as the entire Weasley clan and Gwenog arrived. By the time they all returned for the reception the sun had almost set. The guests were standing around talking with drinks in hand. The noise died down and people began to clap and cheer. Harry, feeling his cheeks burn from all the attention, strode between the tables towards the front and their table.

The guests quickly settled down at their tables as Ron stood to give a little speech. Hermione followed with a short talk about Ginny. Finally it was Harry's turn.

"I'd like to thank all of you for being here today. Molly, thank you for organising a perfect wedding. Arthur, for being like a father to me these past few months. I'm sure my parents and godfather are smiling down at you at this very moment. Gwenog, you've always been there for me. Loved me in your own unique way and for introducing me to the world's most wonderful witch." Harry ruffled his hair nervously. "Speeches, never been a strength." He chuckled to himself and took a drink of water from a glass. The crowd laughed in good spirit. He patted his jacket, then dug in the pockets of his pants. "I had a little piece of paper here somewhere." The guests laughed even more. "Well, I'll just make it up as I go along." He retrieved his champagne glass. "I hope your glasses are full because the first thing I would like to do is propose a toast to family." Everyone stood and raised their glasses. "To family."

Harry coughed to stall a bit once everyone was seated again. "I should probably move onto the important part of my speech before I forget." Harry grinned and glanced down at his wife sitting beside him looking even more radiant than before as she stared up at him. "Ginny Potter. That sounds so weird and yet natural. Where do I begin to describe what she means to me? She has brought something into my life I never knew I needed. She brings out the best in me, completes me in a sense. She's smart, beautiful as rose, and the most brilliant Quidditch player I've ever seen."

"Merlin! Think about your kids!" Ron shouted from the seats.

Harry blushed. "I... um..." He scratched his head. "Thanks, mate. Though I think you might have to wait a few years before playing with a niece or nephew."

Ginny glared at her brother. "I've got a few seasons to play at least."

"Thanks to family I've completely lost my train of thought." He took another sip of water. "Basically, I just wanted to say that I love you, Ginny. You're the best thing to have ever happened to me. You've made the world bright where once there had only been darkness."

"Stop lying Harry!" Bill shouted. "Winning the first League Cup must've been better than marrying a tiny freckled faced thing."

"Doesn't even come close, Bill," Harry said back with confidence. He turned to face Ginny again. "Thank you for marrying me, Ginny." He raised his glass. "To Ginny."

Everyone stood and raised their glasses to her.

Ginny stood awkwardly after he sat down. "I didn't prepare anything. I wasn't even planning on saying something. Not sure if I'm supposed to really. But I had to go against my nerves and stand before all of you to say." She faced Harry and took his hand in hers. "I love you, Harry. You are what've I've been looking for my entire life and I'm glad that I managed to find you." She faced her family and raised her glass. "To Harry."

Everyone stood and raised their glasses to him. Ginny sat again. He leaned across and kissed her. "That means a lot," he whispered.

Waiters, who had remained inconspicuous to Harry, emerged to serve the starters. Everyone settled down. The garden was immediately filled with the hum of many voices and laughing. Beneath the table he held onto her hand while taking the brief moment to take in the atmosphere and decorations.

The guests were all seated around round tables. The head table being the only rectangular one. Harry wished he knew what the flower arrangements were on all the tables, but the red, green and yellow worked well with the colours of the wedding. The tables were all situated on the edge of a small dance floor.

Harry eventually managed to finish his starter. "Do you think we should go talk to our guests, Ginny?"

"If we must," she replied in mock resignation. They stood and went to talk to the people at each table.

They only returned to their seats when the main course was served. It was some kind of fillet, but Harry barely registered or tasted the food. His mind was too occupied. They would be opening the dance floor after this.

Eventually a song began to play, the one they had chosen. He held out his hand, which Ginny took.

"Just wait a second," she said before he could lead her away. "Hermione."

"Coming." The Matron of Honour came scurrying across towards them from her table. She bent down and worked furiously behind Ginny's back. "All done."

"Lead the way, Harry."

He did not comment as they walked around their table and onto the dance floor. Colin was hurrying about, flash going off every few seconds as he tried to capture the moment.

The crowd hushed as Ginny turned to face Harry in the middle of the dance floor. His left arm lifted her right while his right hand moved behind her back where it rested firmly.

It was a slow song filling the evening air, a very slow song. The only other noise was the shutter of the camera as a photo was being taken. She felt his firm frame push against her as he began to move with to the gentle rhythm. He became the only real thing in the world. His handsome smile, bright eyes filled with love, and somewhat tamed black hair. He was her husband, hers.

"Why me?" Harry whispered, never once hesitating in his movements. "Of all the wizards, why did you decide to make me so happy?"

"I was going to ask the same." His smile was intoxicating. "It's not fair to other witches to make me so happy."

He spun her around. The train of the dress, raised and fixed into place, allowed her to move freely. "Have I said how beautiful you are tonight?"

"Only about a hundred times." She pouted. "Not nearly enough for the effort I put into this dress."

"When you walked out of the house you mesmerised me I've only just realised that there are hoops in it."

"Really?" she said with wide eyes.

"Honestly. Your eyes held me captive for the first hour. Your hair and face for the next. The lace kept me fascinated while we were taking photos and… well I'm just hopelessly in love."

He pulled her close and let his lips touch hers. "Thank you, Harry," Ginny whispered as she leaned her head against his shoulder. "It feels great doesn't it?"

"The best feeling ever," Harry agreed.

"Should we tell the others?" Ginny asked.

"No," Harry laughed. "It's our little secret."

At the given moment Ron and Hermione walked onto the dance floor signalling that it was now open to everyone. Her parents were first to react. Ginny lost interest thereafter. She was entirely happy in Harry's arms as they moved steadily around the floor.

"We should have opened with a tango," Harry said sometime during the third song.

"Why?" she asked.

He grinned. "It would've been much more dramatic."

She shook her head. "No, this was much more personal."

"I know, but just think about it."

She chuckled, choosing to ignore Harry. When the next dance began, her father tapped Harry on the shoulder. "Mind if I steal my daughter for a song or two."

"Of course," Harry let go and her father took his place. She watched as Harry began to dance with her mother.

"I can't get over how pretty you look tonight." His eyes were wide. "And all the decorations. You and your mother did a wonderful job."

"Don't forget, Hermione."

"Who could forget about her?"

They moved a bit more stiffly across the dance floor. "I haven't dance with you since…" Ginny narrowed her eyes in thought.

"Christmas when you were ten. Your last Christmas before…"

"The Chamber." Her father tensed. "I'm fine, dad. Harry has helped heal those wounds. In a few years they'll be nothing more than pale scars."

A tear slipped down his cheek. "I'm so happy for you, Ginny."

She stopped dancing and hugged her father.

Harry waited beside the dance floor for Ginny to finish dancing with her father. They took a long time and only stopped when Ginny wrapped her arms around him.

"You've been good for her," Bill said from beside him.

Harry shrugged. "She's done even more for me."

"Just take care of her." The oldest brother of Ginny gave him a fierce look which Harry understood.

"I'll do my best, Bill."

"Good, because you know, Ron would never stop sulking if he lost those tickets you organised this season."

Harry chuckled as Ginny came towards them. "What are you laughing about?"

"Bill was just discussing the fanatic behaviour of Ron."

"Right," Ginny agreed. "He'd probably disown us to get tickets out of you, Harry."

"What if I move to another club?"

"Then he'll hold me prisoner until you sign for the Cannon's again."

Bill suddenly straightened. "Care for a dance, Ginny?"

She looked questioningly at Harry. "Just one," he replied. "I'd like some time with my bride. Besides I need to have a dance with Gwenog."

The reception passed quickly once the dance floor was opened and while the guests were still enjoying themselves, Harry whisked Ginny away for a day together before their training would commence again.

Ginny woke the next morning to Harry's warm arms wrapped around her body; her back was pressed against him. She let her free hand touch his left hand where she felt the metal ring that she'd placed on his finger the day before. She closed her eyes and tried to enjoy the moment for as long as possible, but Harry, her husband, began to stir.

"Morning." He kissed her shoulder.

"How'd you know I was awake?"

"You've been fidgeting for a while." He tightened his hold around her. She could feel every part of his body pressing against her.

"I'm just enjoying the fact that I can be here without having to feel guilty."

"And you don't have to run home." He trailed kisses up and down her neck making her squeal.

"I am home." She wriggled free and turned to face him. His eyes were bright from the sunlight flooding into the room through the massive glass window overlooking rolling hills of green. "Our home."

He smiled, fingers trailing up and down her exposed arm. "So what are we going to do on this one day we have?"

"We could stay in bed for a few more hours."

He frowned playfully. "Sounds awfully boring."

"Boring?"

"Yeah, you know…"

She roughly pushed him onto his back and came up to straddle his hips. "Is that still boring?"

"Well…" She did not give him time to reply.

Around lunchtime the pair finally emerged from the bedroom. It was a fine day, neither warm nor cold. He was dressed in shorts and a loose t-shirt while Ginny wore a white silk night dress she'd bought especially for her wedding night. He held onto her hand while they walked down to the kitchen. She could feel the metal ring pressing against her fingers.

"I can't believe we're actually married."

He shook his head. "And living in our own home."

She let go of his hand and opened the Muggle refrigerator. There were just enough ingredients for a very late breakfast. Harry had retrieved a frying pan and lit the stove. She went to stand beside him and he wrapped an arm around her waist.

Ginny slowly wriggled free to place some bacon into the pan. It immediately began to sizzle. The mushrooms and eggs followed quickly. He tended the pan as she found some plates and toasted a few slices of bread. When everything was done they sat down by their small kitchen table.

Harry placed his hand over hers; his fingers playing with her rings. "Our first home meal."

She couldn't help but grin. "Everything feels so perfect."

"It does," he replied. "I just wish we had more time alone."

"It's just a week." She spoke more to comfort herself than him.

"One week then at least a month of nothing."

Her eyes glittered. "Sounds wonderful. As much as I love Quidditch the season is long."

"Very long." Harry nodded. "But the summer break helps. When September comes round you'll be itching to be in a game again."

"In a few months we start this all over again."

"Except for the dating thing." He grinned.

She ignored the comment. "We'll be in different groups again. So we won't have to play each other until February in the semi."

"Or the final."

Neither dared mention that they might not be playing against one another as that would mean one or both of them had lost.

"So," Harry said suddenly. "Do you want to go somewhere today or just relax?"

"We could open our presents."

"Alright, I think Kreacher put them in the living room."

Ginny jumped up, showing most of her slender legs, and hurried out of kitchen into the living room. Harry caught up. She shrieked as her feet lifted off the ground and into the air. A moment later she was dropping onto the couch. Harry crashed down next to her a second later. "Ready for presents?"

His breath touched her neck, his hand moved along her exposed leg. "I think they can wait a few minutes longer."

They went upstairs to get properly dressed after eventually opening their gifts and wasting more time on the couch. Harry, however, got this look in his eyes after putting on a sweater.

"What are you planning?" Ginny asked.

He grinned. "We can't call this a home until we've done one thing in particular." She raised an eyebrow, but he just took hold of her hand and led her outside where he raised a hand. Two brooms came flying towards them. "A little bit of Quidditch."

She laughed as he handed her a broom. "Battle of Seekers?"

His eyes glittered. "As much as I would love to I think that can wait for the final."

"Agreed, do we have a Quaffle?"

Harry looked indignant. "Do we have a Quaffle? Honestly." He flicked his wrist and a new Quaffle came flying towards them.

She grabbed it, tucked it beneath her arm, and flew up into the sky. Harry followed. The view that greeted her when she turned to face him made her stop.

"I thought you might like it up here," Harry said when he joined her.

A forest stretched for miles behind the house, while to the front rolling hills of green stretched for miles more. A few Muggle homes were visible in the distance where they stood alongside roads. Though to Muggles the two of them would not even be specks in the distance.

The house sat nestled between the hills and the forest. A small gravel road followed the natural contours of the land until it reached a minor farm road a mile away. The stream she'd heard flowed alongside the road, but it separated near the house and followed its own course along the edge of their property.

"It's beautiful. So much like the Burrow, but so different."

"So you approve?"

"I doubt I could've found a better place."

"I searched long and hard for this. I barely got the Goblins to buy it in time. Some Muggles were quite eager to buy this."

"I can see why."

"So are we going to play?" he asked.

She faced him, then shook her head. "I'd like to fly about."

"Can we at least throw the Quaffle about?" He pouted.

She grinned then threw the ball at him. He snatched it clumsily out of the air. "Good arm."

"Six brothers, you know."

"Right." He nodded before throwing it back at her. She caught it nimbly, did a small corkscrew, ball tucked expertly under her arms. When she came up she flicked the Quaffle up to him. "You enjoy playing Chaser?"

She shrugged. "I played it often enough at home."

"I've forgotten how nice it is to just through a Quaffle about."

"Yeah," she agreed. "I use to do it with Ron when we were alone at the Burrow over the summer holidays."

"Sirius," Harry said softly. "It took us both away from the war."

He threw the ball back at her; she caught it with one hand. "It helped me forget about the Chamber."

Harry arrived at the Cannons' training session feeling a bit frustrated. At that moment he wanted to be in his new home with Ginny; not out in the cold flying drills to please his coach. At least Harry understood how important these last few practises were, if not for him specifically but for the Chasers and team morale. He entered the changing room to find all the players already there getting dressed.

"How you holding up, Harry?" Edgecombe asked.

"You know where I'd rather be, Patrick." Harry replied.

"Right, but it's just a few days then you're free for the next couple of months before training starts again."

"That's if I don't make the English Quidditch team this year." Harry grumbled. "Then I'd be on a broom in just over a month again."

"But it'll be worth it."

"Yeah," Harry sighed. "It'll just be more time away from home and Ginny."

"Sacrifices of the professional Quidditch player."

"Listen up!" the coach shouted. "We've got a tough game this weekend. No funny business. This is serious. You've worked too hard all season to have those Harpies take this away from you now!"

"Yes, sir," they all agreed.

"Now stop chattering away like your wives and get onto the pitch."

Patrick and Harry snorted. "Of course, sir."

Ginny, with a hot cup of tea between her hands and dressed in the silk night dress, stood alone in the large kitchen of her new home. Harry had Apparated away to his practise session. She, however, still had a few more hours before needing to be at the Harpies stadium. Gwenog was taking things a bit easier.

Ginny walked along the long kitchen counter, a finger running along the smooth cold granite surface. If she bent over the dark stone she could see her own reflection. She stopped and leaned back against the counter. The kitchen was so much different than

her mother's. The larger size, however, made it comfortable when two people cooked together.

The magical clock on the wall, a present from her parents, told her that Harry was at work. The hand with her picture on it pointed at home. It brought with it that strange, exciting feeling. This was her home. She shrieked with sudden delight, feet jogging on the spot. She stopped just before burning herself with hot tea.

"Time to do some exploring," she whispered to the large empty house.

The living room was not overly large and had a nice large fireplace that would be more than capable of warming the room. She learned that the previous afternoon when they had snuggled up against one another after opening the gifts. To the sides of the room large glass windows, the same as in the main bedroom, opened the house to the countryside.

She pushed open a glass door and stepped onto a wooden deck that led out into the garden. It was as quiet and peaceful as the Burrow. Birds chirped in the distance and a small stream could be heard running along the edge of the property.

A couple of steps led down from the deck and onto the thick lawn. She sat on the edge. A gentle breeze blew across the garden, it ruffled her untidy hair. A small sip of tea warmed her stomach. What she needed now was for Harry to be here sitting beside her. She took another sip and continued to sit enjoying the scenery while imagining a family running around. The image was so clear she lost herself in imagining the future.

A magical chime sounded inside the house making Ginny jump. She hurried inside noticing that she had been sitting outside on the deck for more than an hour. The practise session would be starting in thirty minutes. It was in that hurried state that she rushed into the changing room at the Harpies stadium.

"Married life getting to you?" Gwenog chuckled from the changing room's door.

"Harry left over an hour ago. I lost track of time while enjoying the view."

The coach frowned. "You'll have to show it to me sometime."

"We're planning on having a family dinner there soon." She did not add that for the next few weeks it was off limits to family and friends.

Gwenog snorted. "I doubt we'd want to be there now."

Some of the other teammates snickered and Ginny laughed along. There was absolutely nothing to be ashamed of. She hurriedly got dressed and was ready just before her teammates.

"Right, let's get going. We've got our plays down, we just need to refine them a bit and ensure they are perfect." She eyed Ginny. "No need to go killing ourselves this week like the Cannons."

The team began to walk down the corridor leading out onto the pitch. Victoria joined her. "Have you thought much about how you are going to beat Harry?"

"A bit," Ginny replied. "It's not going to be easy, but he might have a few weaknesses."

"Really?"

"Not really, but I'm sure I can manage something."

Victoria looked concerned. "Have you flown against him before? Or did he just instruct you?"

"No, we flew against one another during the training month I spent with him. Didn't go too well for me."

Victoria's frowned deepened. "I guess we need to get that score up as quickly as possible."

"I am going to try my best." Ginny hoped she sounded as determined as she felt. "I'm not playing this negative game of other Seekers. I am going to fly to win!"

Victoria clapped Ginny on the shoulder. "That's the spirit, but while you're up there with him make sure he doesn't get the bloody thing before we have a lead."

Ginny gave a firm nod, but that was easier said than done. She knew how difficult it was to keep him away from the Snitch. The man just came up from behind and slipped past Seekers. The easiest way she knew to stop him was to catch it herself and that was something she'd grown rather good at.

Harry arrived to an empty and dark home. "Ginny!" he called out. There was no response.

"Kreacher," Harry said.

"Yes, Master." The little elf said after appearing beside Harry.

"It's, Harry." The house elf smiled in his weird manner making Harry groan. "Has Ginny come home yet?"

"No, Mistress is not home from Quidditch."

"Thank you, Kreacher. You can go relax now."

Harry trudged up to their room. He was in desperate need of a shower. His practise kit did not smell too good and his hair was matted from all the dives he'd practised. The hot water running over his body eased tired muscles. He was still very young, but the years of preparing to fight Voldemort and the four years at the peak of the game was beginning to take its toll. He wondered how many more years he had left in him?

Would he still be able to stop Ginny from getting to the Snitch before him? She had grown so much as a person and player since the previous summer. She flew faster, more aggressively, and with greater determination. His hand brushed through his wet hair. Did he still have what it takes to beat her? She was younger and more talented.

"You alright there, Harry?" Ginny spoke from the bathroom door.

He looked to the side. "Just thinking."

She slipped out of her pale green Harpies kit and joined him. "About what?"

He turned around and held her in his arms. For a moment he admired the freckles on her nose. "How many more years I've got left in me."

Her eyes widened fractionally. "Tired of Quidditch?"

"No," he shook his head. "I am just beginning to realise how much I've punished this body. Between Voldemort, Malfoy and Qudditch I've been hurt too many times." He leaned down and tenderly kissed her lips. "But I've got a few more years in me yet."

She placed her head against his chest. Her fingers traced known paths across pale scars she knew were there. "Just promise me you'll tell me when you don't feel up to it anymore."

"Of course."

Ginny lay curled up against Harry, her head on his shoulder while his arm wrapped itself around her back. He was breathing steadily, already fast asleep. Sleep did not come so easily for her. She let a finger trail up and down his arm, careful not to wake him. Tomorrow was the final and her mind refused to let her sleep.

She could see herself failing over and over again. Harry always managed to get to the Snitch first. Her team, the Harpies fans, would be relying on her to defend against Harry. No matter how much she'd been thinking about it over the year, she had still not managed to think of a way to defeat him.

Those thirty odd defeats in the training month did not help ease her worries. They were like a horrible nightmare, each defeat being replayed over and over again. She thought about each game and how he always managed to have the extra needed to win.

There had to be a way, but as her eyes finally closed from exhaustion a plan had yet to formulate.

Harry rolled onto his side, arm landing on an empty bed. "Ginny," he called out sleepily.

"Right here, Harry," she replied from beside the bed. "I couldn't sleep."

He opened his eyes. Ginny stood wearing her official pale green Harpies blouse; a skirt was still being held in her hands. His gaze travelled along the feminine curves of her body and down towards the long slender legs he loved. His eyes never reached her thigh. "What's that?" he croaked.

She blushed. "Just a present from a friend." She tried to say it calmly, but the strain was evident. She quickly regained her composure and dropped the skirt. Slowly she spun around then strode towards him. The movement allowed him to see every part of her. "Do you like what you see?"

"Um…" he blinked. "Well…" he stuttered.

She gave a mischievous smile. "I'll take that gobsmacked look and hungry eyes as a yes."

"I…" he coughed. "I never thought you'd wear…"

Ginny climbed onto the bed to straddle him. Her face came down towards his. Their lips met tenderly. The kiss had barely begun before she jumped off the bed to pull on the skirt. "I must be off. Gwenog wants us to be early."

Harry groaned as Ginny hurried out of the room. "Reminder to oneself." He ran a hand through his hair. "Don't play against your wife." His head shook vigorously, but the image of Ginny in something so sexy would not fade. He grinned, he'd just have to repay the favour after the game.

He let his feet drop to the floor, but did not stand. Harry remained in that position for a few minutes before he began laughing. For the first time in five seasons his match day routine had changed.

The wireless crackled a sign that the broadcast was about to begin. "Good afternoon, listeners. As you might know, today is the day."

"The day we have been waiting for since the day last year."

"What day is the day you are wondering about on this day?"

"It is of course the Quidditch League Final!"

"I can't believe it is here again, Bobby. Makes my fingers tingle like the day I got my wand all those years ago."

"Even more so, Peter. I'm telling you, listeners, if you haven't got a ticket then Apparate to the Harpies Stadium immediately. The season ticket holders are already inside and the lines outside are growing."

"Why? I hear some of you asking."

"Merlin! If you are asking that question then what are you doing listening to this broadcast. This final has two of the most exciting teams ever. The ruthless Victoria Hughes captains a talented Harpies team that manages to reach a final again after four years. She starts alongside fellow Chaser Katie Bell, who is a real fighter with a few seasons under her belt. One of the trio of Chasers is Angelina Johnson- a wily flier who always catches you by surprise. Their Beaters, Catherine Spinnet and Samantha Evans, might not be the biggest in the league, but their aim is true and their teamwork is matched only by the experience of the Cannons' Beaters. Michelle Urquhart, the Keeper, has had an excellent season, which is something we've come to expect from the woman. The team is rounded off by Ginny Weasley, a young Seeker with a bright future."

"I can almost hear those comments about the young Miss Weasley. What do you say, Bobby?"

"Indeed, she might be inexperienced but that did not stop her from becoming one of only a handful of people to have caught six Snitches in a row. An impressive feat, Peter."

"Let's not forget that she is the first female Seeker to achieve this. Quite remarkable."

"That brings us to her opponent today. Dare we utter his name, Peter? The Man-Who-Killed-You-Know-Who, the catcher of thirty-four consecutive Snitches, the only undefeated player in the league: Harry Potter!"

"That does not even begin to describe the depth of the player. Harry Potter leads a formidable team, even if they are a bit more unsteady than the Harpies. The Cannons saw the loss of their previous Captain and star Keeper, Oliver Wood, earlier this year. What are you thinking, Bobby?"

"You have to remember, listeners, that Wood has one of the all-time best records as a Keeper. His talent has kept the Cannons in touch in many games, thus allowing Potter to make up the difference with his ability to catch the Snitch in time."

"The combination of Potter and Wood has formed the backbone of the Cannons over the past few seasons. It will be interesting to see how their new Keeper performs against the powerful Harpies Chasers who, by all accounts, are the best in the League."

"They are easily the best, and the most consistent."

"Agreed, Bobby. The Cannons will be starting today with their usual three Chasers: Mitchum Spinnet, Jonathon Markam and Mark Greyton. The trio has played together all season, but they have never worked as well together as their coach might have hoped. They will be sitting nervously in the cloak room knowing who they'll be flying against today. The Cannons' strength probably lies in their two Beaters; Patrick Edgecombe and Grant Thompson. The pair works well together and Patrick's years of experience in the League really help to set this duo apart from others. Their attacks are coordinated and the defence of their Chasers is exemplary. They will be asking a lot of questions of the Harpies Beaters today."

"Don't forget the newest addition to the team. The young Keeper, Philip Peterson, has had a good season so far, but the dominance showed by their Chasers and Beaters has kept him mostly out of the games. Today will be different. Hughes and her fellow Chasers will be looking to capitalize on his inexperience."

"Indeed, the game is shaping up to be brutal. Any predictions, Bobby?"

"I've looked at my tea leaves. Stared endlessly into my glass ball. Spoken to the Oracle and even to Professor Trelawny. In the end they all agreed to disagree on the outcome."

"Merlin's beard! This is going to be exiting. When the fates are fighting then you know the game is going to be nail-biting."

"Sorry to interrupt, Peter, but the young Weasley has flown out and into the air above the pitch."

"She looks too calm and collected, though we've come to expect that from the woman."

"Indeed, she does look ready as she hovers above the pitch looking at the crowd filing in."

"Is that Potter coming out?" The radio crackled softly in the silence. "Potter has flown out as well. He's slowly looping his way upwards to where Weasley is hovering."

"The Golden Couple together in the air at last. I can almost see the sparks flying."

"The crowd's pointing and photographers' bulbs are flashing."

Ginny nervously mounted her broom in the long corridor that led out onto the pitch. The wood felt comforting against the palm of her hands. With a gentle push she lifted into the air and out onto the pitch.

The bustling crowd cheered. The fans seemed to like these pre-game appearances. She inhaled deeply, letting the fresh air blow through her hair and caress her face. Unlike during the game when she wore goggles, these flights were like flying at home. If she closed her eyes she only had to imagine her brothers up here with her.

She faced the box where her family was sitting. A laugh escaped her lips; Ron was wearing the Orange match jersey with the long tail Harry had given her to give to her brother. He did, however, wave a green flag around. Ginny felt proud of herself, she had partially converted Ron to her team's side. Hermione stood beside him, she too had trouble deciding who to support. At least she wore a Harpies shirt while holding an Orange flag. Bill and Fleur were fully kitted in Harpies clothes as were Charlie, his girlfriend Susan, and the twins. Her parents and Percy were dressed normally, but they did have Harpies scarves. Percy's wife wore a bright Orange shirt and Ginny knew it was just to mess with him, especially considering the thumbs up the twins were giving her. In all it was a normal family moment. A small element of pride grew within her

chest. Her whole family was down there and supporting in their way. Eventually she spun around and began to fly about slowly.

A few minutes later Harry came floating out from the grandstand. The crowd roared; fanatics in Orange beside themselves. He gradually made his way towards her.

His pale orange warm up kit did not look half as bad as the bright match kit. He actually looked rather dashing in his khaki shorts. The messy hair was a given. He flew a perfect circle around her before moving close enough for her to be able to see the green in his eyes. She also saw the familiar glint of the platinum ring on his finger. It made her conscious of the two rings on her own finger; thankfully she was too far away for people to see.

He drew near. "What do you see now?" Harry asked with a soft intensity that left her slightly breathless. The words echoed those of the first time they had flown together at this very field.

She smiled, looking right at him and tried to remember the words she'd spoken before. "A shed with strange red paint marks on the roof. White lines on the field. Alternating seats of Harpies green and gold, some broken. A commentator's box with glass windows reflecting the afternoon sun. A dark blue roof, paint chipping at places, covering the main stand. A little shop selling memorabilia with an enchanted witch, dressed in green, on a broom floating above it. I see…"

Harry kept his gaze on her, then spoke. "Crazed fans shouting our names as they try to enter the little shop to buy shirts, scarves, hats and flags. Whole and broken seats alike being filled by witches and wizards wearing orange or green. Officials running about as they ready the field. Commentators talking rapidly as they try to imagine what we're talking about."

"Exactly," Ginny shouted with delight. He grinned, there was a deep element of pride in his expression.

"You've grown so much." He spoke with sudden seriousness. "It's hard, seeing you now, to remember the young woman I met almost a year ago."

She glanced down at her family, her chest swelling with pride once again. Her cheeks, however, turned a bit redder. She did not deserve his praise. "And you manage to be the same. You look as handsome, calm and in control as ever."

"I'm not, Ginny." He whispered just loudly enough to be heard above the fans trying to be heard.

"What changed?" she asked, gripping her broom tightly. "You are here as you've been every year."

"This year I'm happy. This year I have you: the most wonderful thing that has ever happened to me." He began to glide away. "Love you, Ginny."

She floated in the opposite direction. "Love you too, Harry."

They gave each other one more parting look before starting to focus on the game.

"Don't know what they were talking about there, Peter. But those looks were smouldering."

"Can't the game begin! Come on officials- we want to see those two have a go at each other in the air. Merlin! I can feel the energy between them."

"They have separated from each other and appear to be going about their business as usual."

"Those patterns indicate two people who are serious about winning the final. I've spoken to the coaches and team members and they are unanimous in saying that despite their relationship the two will be fighting hard today."

"Potter wouldn't like to have his record broken by the girlfriend now would he?"

"Indeed he would not. But think of the young Weasley being able to have one over her guy."

"Makes you wonder about tonight, Peter. They do say that makeup s…"

"Bobby!"

"Um… sorry, Listeners. Yes, well, the shower might get a bit steamy."

"Bobby!"

"Perhaps I'll just keep my mouth shut for a minute while you go through some pre-match things."

"While my fellow commentator regains some sense, I am sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but the tickets for the game are sold out. It's horrible seeing all those fans standing outside the gate, but they do not seem to be perturbed as they begin heading towards the nearby hill where they will be able to see whatever parts of the game remain not hidden by the stands."

"They'll still see Potter and Weasley bumping against one another."

"Bobby!"

"Right, silence."

Harry, still dressed in his pale orange shirt, paced before his fellow teammates. "You all know that I'm not as good with this pre-match talk as Wood."

Patrick coughed. "You mean pre-match shout about dying for our honour while upholding the name of all things Chudley Cannon."

Harry nodded and the team laughed. "Right." He waved his hand through the air then gave each player a penetrating look. "I know there are crazed fans out there that are relying on us to bring home that trophy again. They have grown attached to it." He grinned sheepishly. "I've grown rather fond of the thing myself."

"At least you've got Ginny to keep your bed warm these days."

Harry grinned. "A sad truth, though the metal never really got warm at night and it made a horrible cushion." Some of the players roared while others whistled loudly. "Right, getting our minds away from beds and good company."

"Awww!" They team sighed in unison.

Harry cleared his throat. "We are not just playing for our fans. We are playing for ourselves. In a few years from now I want you to look back at this day and remember that you gave it your all. Win or lose. Take pride in that jersey you're going to put on. Take pride in the man beside you. Take pride in yourself as you fly out onto that pitch." The players sat looking at him with wide eyes. He could see the fight begin to grow in their eyes. "Many of you have been here before. You know that level heads and calm execution of set moves is what wins the game."

He faced his beaters. "Grant, Patrick. We will be looking at you to keep us covered. You've been here, and know what needs doing."

"You can count on us, Harry." Patrick and Grant stood as one and psyched themselves up.

"Mitchum, Jonathon, Mark. You guys have had a good season and this is your first final as a trio. Keep the game simple. You've got your moves down to perfection. Just keep a close eye on Hughes and Johnson, they move quickly on intercepts. Katie is more about scoring as she's got the better arm."

"We've got it all under control." Mitchum answered for his fellow Chasers. "We had a few good talks this week."

Harry faced their new keeper. He walked up to him and placed a hand on the young man's shoulder. "Philip. I know what it's like to be alone during the final. It allows your mind to wander." His eyes narrowed. "Don't become distracted. Don't fret if you miss a shot. It happens. I expect your first few saves to be a bit tense. It's only natural."

The young Keeper nodded nervously. "I'll do my best, Harry."

"You've done good this year. Coming in late has been tough, but you've proven yourself to be up to the challenge. Go out there and show them why we have faith in you."

Harry faced the entire team again and shouted. "Are you girls ready?"

"Yes, ma'am!" they shouted in return.

Harry laughed as the team began to chant.

The speech and the cheering left Harry slightly dazed as he stood alone while getting dressed. They had about five minutes before they would need to leave. The atmosphere in the room had changed. It had grown silent except for the creaking of leather as straps were being tightened and the rustle of cloth when a match jersey was being pulled on. There was some tension, but mostly it was the silence of men preparing their minds and bodies. Each man had his own pre-game ritual. They did not disturb each other during these last few minutes.

Harry removed his shirt and shorts. He folded them carefully and placed them on the bench beside him. Next he carefully removed his bright orange match jersey, noticing the embroidered date and name of the opposition. His fingers ran over the slight rise of the thread. He turned the jersey over, on the back stood his name. It made him pause each time as he remembered the parents who would never see him fly. After a minutes silence he pulled the jersey over his head and let it fall, the tail barely reaching the floor behind him. He sat down to put on his leather boots and gloves. Each strap double checked. The last item was his pair of goggles.

"You ready, Harry?" Mark called. "It's almost time."

Harry looked up to see all the players sitting and ready. "Almost." Only then did his eyes lock onto the wand lying beside him. With deliberate slowness he placed the cold wand of Voldemort in its holster on his forearm. The day should be Death Eater free, but you could never be sure.

He stood and walked to his team. They stood in silence. Each face was set in concentration and determination. The Harpies would not find this game easy. Harry grinned and felt an unusual pride in the men before him and the orange jerseys they wore. A bell chimed in the distance.

"There's a trophy waiting." Those were the last words Harry said before grabbing his broom and opening the door to the corridor.

On the opposite side of the wide hallway the Harpies emerged from their changing room with Victoria leading. Her determined gaze lingered on Harry, a small smile playing on her lips. Harry swallowed, suddenly nervous. The Harpies looked deadly and graceful. The two Captains angled towards one another; their teams followed in lines behind.

Harry was the first to break the tension. He held out a hand. "All the best, Victoria."

She shook his firmly. "And to you, Harry."

The pair stopped. Harry knew Ginny was behind somewhere, but she had not come out of the changing room before he could see her. He wanted to turn, to smile at her, but his team needed to see him focused on nothing but the job at hand and not the skimpy something she might be wearing beneath her robes. He would be seeing her face to face

soon enough and then they'd be too close for comfort. He needed a plan to counter her charm.

The crowd roared outside, eager for the game to begin. The stadium practically vibrated from the intensity of their shouts and cries. In the distance, through the small exit, he could see patches of orange and green. The noise washed over him, surreal in its fervour. Strangely, the beating of his heart remained loudest.

Ginny sat on her usual bench still wearing her pale green shirt. Her attention was being held by Victoria, who paced about in the middle of the room.

"We've come a long way this season." Her eyes moved across each of the women. "We've proven ourselves against every team. They threw everything at us." She stopped walking and faced Ginny. "Not even cursed Bludgers could stop us from winning."

The Captain looked away. "Those boys sitting across the hallway think they have this game won. They're wrong!" She began pacing again. "We play as a team, not as individuals. We remain focused on what needs doing. You've all seen how their Chasers play for the crowd, for their fans. Each one of them likes to steal the glory. In that lies their weakness." She fell silent just as loud whistling and cheering came through the door from the Cannons' changing room. "The fools are celebrating already."

Victoria straightened. "Catherine and Samantha, you know what needs doing: keep those Chasers apart, force them into playing for themselves."

She searched out Katie and Angelina, her fellow Chasers. "We stick together. Keep the formations tight and our eyes on the Quaffle. Catherine and Samantha will keep the Bludger away."

Her attention shifted to the Harpies Keeper. "Michelle, you've been solid this year. Just save one Quaffle at a time and don't get despondent if one slips through. It'll happen at least twenty or thirty times today." The woman nodded. "Just try to keep us 150 points ahead."

Finally Victoria came across to Ginny. "You know your stuff. Your natural flare combined with Harry's training has moulded you into something special. Keep your eyes open and don't let that husband of yours distract you." Her eyes glinted. "He is wily, and he'll use your relationship to his advantage." Ginny nodded knowing well that both Seekers could play that game. "You know how good he is. If you can't get the Snitch make sure he can't either. Whatever you do make sure he does not get that Snitch before our lead stretches beyond 150. Thereafter you're flying for your own pride."

Victoria strode across to her bench where she could see the whole team. "I've got faith in all of you. So let's go out there and play this game the way we like to play it."

The team cheered and in the distance Ginny could faintly make out the Cannons doing the same. Thereafter they room grew silent. An official entered, warning them they had five minutes to get ready.

Every player went about preparing in their own way. Ginny faced the dark green jersey hanging behind her bench. Her fingers reached out to touch the embroidered date and name of the opposition. It made her giddy. She had seen Harry's four final jerseys. Now she had her very own, except it was much prettier than Harry's orange.

She cleared her mind and pulled her warm-up shirt over her head and dropped it onto the bench. Her pants landed on the same heap. She reached out and removed the jersey. It felt heavy in her hands. Turning it around she let out a soft breath. She knew it would be there, but still it came as a surprise. Instead of the usual name, 'Potter' now stood emblazoned on the back above her number.

Time was running out so she pulled on the jersey, the long tail landing on the floor behind her. She sat to put on her leather boots and gloves. She reached into a bag and pulled out a dark green piece of string. She reached out behind her head and quickly tied her hair into a neat ponytail. Last of all she put on her goggles.

"Ready?" Victoria called out to the team.

Ginny nodded as she found her wand to place it in the holster on her forearm. "Ready," she replied together with the others as she grabbed her broom.

A bell chimed in the distance. Victoria opened the door and the team began to file out. Ginny, the youngest, was last to leave the now empty changing room. She emerged into the wide corridor. The Cannons' Keeper stood beside her. She looked down the line to see Harry standing with broom in hand.

Harry, standing next to Victoria, watched as a small boy emerged from a side door. He held a junior broom and wore a bright orange Cannons' match jersey. His name would be on the back. Beside him walked a small girl with bright brown eyes. She too held a broom and was dressed in a Harpies dark green match jersey. Her face, like the boy's, was awash with awe. They were experiencing something that only two people a year could experience.

Harry sank down onto on knee. "Hi, Joshua," Harry greeted the boy. The name and the reasons for him being here had been given earlier. He was an orphan who'd been badly injured during the war.

"Hello, Mr. Potter," the boy greeted shyly. His tiny scarred hands gripped the broom fiercely.

"Nervous?" Harry whispered. Joshua nodded while his eyes darted across to where Victoria was talking to the little girl. She too had lost her family during the war.

Meeting people like them always proved difficult for Harry. On the one hand he was proud that he had managed to save them. On the other he had not done enough to save their parents. The shadow would probably hang over him for the rest of his life.

Harry gripped the boy's shoulder softly. "Stay near to me and you'll be fine." Joshua nodded again and Harry stood while taking hold of the boy's hand.

An official had arrived while the two Captains had been busy with the children. He spoke into his wand. A faint voice spoke back and then the official nodded. The finals were always so different with all the procedures.

Harry squeezed Joshua's hand in reassurance and then mounted his broom. Behind he could hear every other player doing the same. Like each time before, the beating in his chest increased tenfold. The flight he and Ginny had earlier helped little. Finals really messed with emotions and that's why experience counted.

The official flourished his wand. Outside, trumpets blared and crackers fired. Harry motioned his broom forwards, careful not to outfly Joshua while staying alongside Victoria. The bright light outside came closer and then the crowd surrounded them.

Thousands of witches and wizards. All of them cheering loudly. Waves of green and orange. It was about to begin.

Ginny watched as Harry lowered himself to speak to a little boy. A little girl named Melanie was hurrying towards Victoria. She wore a small replica of a Harpies match jersey; a rather unique item as it would be the only non-player jersey made in the official Harpies' dark green.

Ginny did not feel ready, but she knew she was. She stood thinking about how calm and yet nervous all the players appeared. Her thoughts dulled her reactions. She almost didn't realise that everyone was busy mounting their brooms. Clumsily she followed. The action cleared her mind, allowing her to refocus on the game ahead.

Her heart pounded loudly as her hands held the handle tightly. Before she could get her mind around what was happening she, along with the entire team, flew out and onto the pitch.

The bright light was harsh at first, but then the world came into view, the flight of earlier helping. Thousands of people cheered; the sound was almost overpowering. Never before had she flown in a game with so many people who were all shouting.

Trying to not be overwhelmed, Ginny searched for Harry. She found him flying calmly up towards the match official who would be releasing the Snitch. Victoria was still beside him. The two captains stopped and while holding the hands of the boy and girl, a photographer took a photo of them.

Ginny slowly made her way towards them. Harry looked sadly after the small boy, but he had to turn back so that they could take another photo of him and Victoria. The flash shone brightly and the Captains shook hands and swapped team pendants, which was a usual final routine. They were quickly banished. When they were done, Victoria turned to nod at Ginny before descending down to the other Chasers and Beaters.

"How are you feeling, Ginny?" Harry asked when she drew near.

"You just worry about getting that Snitch before I do, love," Ginny retorted. She spun around, letting him see the letters of her last name clearly written on her back. She turned back quickly, his mouth hung slightly open.

"Yes, Potter." Harry bowed his head playfully at last. The brief moment of surprise vanished and he really looked calm and confident. It made her nervous.

The official approached, which stopped the banter between them. The man held out the Golden Snitch between two gloved fingers.

"Ready?" the official asked.

Harry and Ginny nodded in unison. Almost immediately the Snitch vanished and the whistle blew. Instead of breaking off in a mad dash towards nothing, they both remained motionless. They stared only into the eyes of the other.

"Thirty one to love, darling?" Harry finally broke the silence.

She shook her head so slightly only Harry would notice. "I prefer to win the only one that matters, Mr. Potter."

He grinned, relishing the challenge. "Good luck, Ginny."

She nodded, seeing a very unusual gleam in his eyes. He was planning something, but what? "Same to you, Harry."

"The teams are about to come out onto the pitch."

"Yes, that crowd is really becoming restless. They want to see their teams."

"I can barely stop myself from jumping up and down."

"Here they come, listeners! Potter and Hughes lead out their teams."

"They do look determined, Peter! Dear me, those Harpies Chasers look like they mean business today."

"A good thing I'm not the Cannons' Keeper. Philip is going to have tough time today."

The radio crackled again. "What is going on behind Weasley? The crowd is going wild."

"Merlin, I've never seen the like before. They are chanting something. Can you hear what, Bobby?"

"It sounds like they are shouting 'Potter'."

"Knowing that they are a couple, perhaps the fans would like a little pre-game kiss."

"I wouldn't be surprised." The voices died down as the static grew a bit louder. "The two Captains have shaken hands and had their picture taken."

"You can feel the tension building around the stadium. I bet even in the comfort of your home your heart is starting to beat just a little bit faster."

"The Keepers have reached their positions and the Chasers are aligning themselves in their opening positions. It looks like the Cannons are going for a much more open game plan while the Harpies Chasers are remaining close together. Hughes is giving her girls one more talk as the Seekers ready themselves before…"

"Oh my… bloody hell… look… look!"

"What are you babbling about now, Peter? Speak sense man!"

"Weasley… I mean… her back!"

"Merlin's beard! Is that? It can't be!"

The static grew loud.

"Listeners. This is hard to say, but the young Miss Weasley appears to have become the young Mrs. Potter!"

Ginny sat watching Harry, still trying to figure out what he was planning. It did not look like he was going anywhere. Her weight barely shifted forwards when Harry reacted with a bold move directly towards her. The smooth polished handle of his broom rammed into hers, blocking the turn she wanted to make. This close she could see the fire in his eyes and the smile deep within. "What?"

"Care to tango?" Harry said in a surprisingly strong voice.

Her mouth dropped open. Surprise must have registered in her gaze because the mirth she'd seen spread to his lips. "What are you playing at? This is a final, Potter."

"All the more reason, Potter." Harry replied as he began to flow forwards. The slight angle of their brooms allowed him to push her backwards, and he did. His eyes never wandered away, the intensity only increased.

They travelled a few meters; Harry glanced to the side and tapped her broom ever so slightly, her head followed. His broom flipped to the side of hers in a rapid blur; the long orange tail of his cloak rippled softly as it lagged behind. He spun her at a right angle to face the direction he'd been looking a moment ago. Her head snapped back towards him; his bright green eyes were waiting.

"Is that how you're playing this?" Harry only grew more intense at her words. She spun to his side, the edge of her Harpies jersey fanning out behind her. Before Harry could blink she floated before him again. The rippling cloth, straining to keep up with her sharp, rapid movements cracked like a whip.

Her eyes narrowed as her handle forcefully slammed against Harry's, the momentum pushing him backwards this time. Not wanting to lose the upper hand, he slipped to the side and tapped her broom. It sent her in a spin. The back of his broom halted the movement with a sudden jerk, and she faced the other way. He began to push, gliding them forwards, neither looking at the other.

"You're not half bad," Ginny whispered fiercely. "I might even let you lead for a while longer."

He slid his broom around, his body a foot away. She could hear his deep breathing and the see the glint in his eyes. Again their handles collided, again Harry drove her backwards, inch by inch. She pushed back, and swung around to his left. Her trailing cloak sounded like thunder as the ripple reached the end. Even before it could settle, she'd backtracked to settle on Harry's right. This time the sound was almost deafening as the large waves worked their way down the entire length of the dark green tail. The crowd roared somewhere in the distance.

Together they drifted, eyes locked together, faces mere inches apart. Harry flicked her around, flew forwards and began to lead her backwards once again. The speed and variance was almost rhythmic.

"You know, Harry, we need to start looking for the Snitch."

"And stop all the fun?"

She pushed against him, they halted, and Harry's green eyes blazed with curiosity. Ginny gave a little bow, winked and shot off into the distance, leaving Harry scratching his head.

"The match seems to be settling down nicely as one might expect. The Harpies are working well as a team, but they are struggling to extend their early lead."

"Yes, Bobby. The Cannons are struggling a bit with their set piece movements, but individual flare from each of their three Chasers is keeping them in the game."

"Let's not forget about the very nervous start from Peterson helped the Harpies settle into a comfortable lead during the first hour of the game.

"He has managed to get over the worst of his nerves. Potter must have whispered something encouraging."

"Which Potter, Bobby?"

"Harry of course. Sorry, Listeners, it's going to take a while to get used to the change."

"Something's happened. Ginny's diving and Harry's shooting after her."

The smooth wooden handle of Harry's broom felt warm in his cold hands. Being this high for more than hour rarely meant a warm afternoon. His attention, however, did not linger on the chill or the fact that his broom was getting old. A small portion of his mind was focused on the small red-haired woman flying along a well thought out pattern. Most of his attention was on trying to find the small, elusive Golden Snitch.

The scores had grown evenly during the first hour, but some damage had been done in the opening minutes. The Harpies had led a coordinated, brutal assault on the Philip. It had cost Harry's team a hundred points. Two hours later they still trailed by a hundred. The thought was not comforting considering Victoria and her Chasers looked fresher than Harry's boys.

He took a moment to glance down at his team's formation; it was ragged. For a brief moment he let himself be distracted. That moment's wandering of his mind, the curse of being captain, meant he'd taken his mind off the second most important item on the pitch – Ginny.

"Agghh!" He gritted his teeth as her nimble broom dropped. It felt like it took an eternity to turn his broom in her direction, and another decade flew by before his broom gained its maximum speed.

Behind him, the long tail of his orange jersey flapped loudly in the wind. Sometimes he enjoyed the sound, but now it emphasised how hard he needed to push to gain on Ginny who had a decent lead.

Her dark green clothes along with her red ponytail moved about as her body disturbed the air. If possible, he pushed his body and head even closer to the handle of the broom. So close he could smell the oil he'd used to polish it a few days ago.

Any thought that it might have been a deception was quickly abandoned when he too noticed the Snitch. Ginny, sensing a win, was flying fast. Broom and body weaved about while she tried to follow the desperate path the Snitch flew to avoid being caught. Being further behind meant he could fly straighter, faster.

The Snitch was really trying to outrace and out manoeuvre them. Its sudden ninety degree turn almost caught Ginny off guard, but she came round as smoothly as when they were flying at the start of the game. A loud crack echoed across the stadium as her tail whipped round. A second later his jersey softly mimicked the sound of Ginny's. The turn he made was a bit wider and slower as hers, but due to being behind it allowed him to cut the corner. When they straightened he had cut her lead in half.

As they raced at break neck speeds around the edge of the pitch mere feet from the ground Harry kept his eyes on one thing, Ginny's cute backside. The reason was purely Quidditch related, or so he reasoned. If she twitched then he had to be ready to react.

Now that he was closing in on her he risked overshooting a turn if the Snitch veered sharply again.

His broom edged closer. The air became unstable as he approached the disturbed angry air of Ginny's slipstream. A small grin formed on his lips. Being so small, she made a tiny void in the air behind her, but it was there. A moment later he felt himself being sucked into the hollow, his speed increased rapidly and the distance between them closed to almost nothing.

Her green cloak fluttered about before him. At the last moment he turned out of her slipstream, the full brunt of air rushing around her body slammed into his face. The extra speed he'd gained helped force him through the barrier of air. Ginny was to his right, andhis body was halfway past hers. More importantly, the Snitch was right before him. He could almost feel the metal in his palm.

As if sensing the imminent threat, the Snitch veered hard to the left, his side. Ginny reacted fractionally faster, her broom cut in front of him, her body pushing hard against him. He tried to turn as sharply, but he his larger build made it impossible.

Ginny's teeth were gritted with effort as their shoulders pressed against one another. The struggle slowed their brooms down and the Snitch fluttered away into the distance.

He pulled out of the chase as did Ginny. The rushing wind died down and the roar of the crowd returned. He was panting from the exertion, as was she.

"Nice flying," he complimented. "Those turns were magnificent."

She studied him. "You're an anomaly on a broom, Harry."

He grinned. Yes, he was faster but he really had trouble when it came to manoeuvrability compared to her, but he was not about to admit that in the middle of a game. "My pleasure, dear."

She shook her head then shot up into the air to return to her grid. He drifted up in the opposite direction. As he did he wiped a few beads of sweat from his forehead. This was not going to be as easy as he had hoped.

"Dear Merlin and all Four Founders that was flying, Peter!"

"Flying like I'd never seen before. We all knew Ginny was a good Seeker, but wow! I didn't think I'd see the day when someone would be able to keep up with Harry."

"Agreed, Peter. But she did have to work hard at the end to keep him away from the Snitch. Though it does seem like she's got that broom of hers under control; those turns were so sharp I thought the gods were striking us down with lighting the thunder was so loud!"

"My ears are still ringing, Bobby. Reminds me of a Muggle film about fighter pilots breaking the sound barrier!"

"Film? Pilots? Sound barrier?"

"Um, never mind, Bobby. But I'm sure our Muggleborn listener's will know what I'm referring to. To me it's Ginny's Maverick to Harry's Ice Man."

"Peter, you are not making any sense."

"Never mind, but it's one hell of a battle down there."

Ginny sat up on her broom. Her back was beginning to ache and her hands were sore from holding onto the dark wood. She let her right hand brush a loose strand of her hair from her face. Even though she kept scanning the world for the Snitch, her mind kept thinking back to the last little duel she'd had with Harry and the training games she'd flown against him a year ago.

She slowly drifted off her grid in a slow deliberate arc. Harry eyed her warily from the far side of the pitch, he knew what she was doing. A new grid pattern formed in her mind and she began working along it.

Something bothered her about Harry's ability. He was faster than her, but not that much faster. He'd cut the corner when the Snitch turned, though he could not have gained that much, as her ability to turn had proven better. He didn't cheat or use magic, so there had to be a logical reason for him to gain so quickly at the end and fly past people. She shook her head, refusing to let her mind become too distracted from the task at hand. Harry's secret kept creeping back though.

She slowly drifted lower to the ground in the hope of seeing something that might not be visible from higher up. It cost her the ability to accelerate in dive, but if she got close enough that might not matter.

Her focus was so absolute on searching for the Snitch that a diving Victoria, rocketing past her went unnoticed until the woman shot by her. The wake buffeted Ginny and she slipped in behind the woman. For a fraction of a second, before Victoria raced away, Ginny's body felt a small tug.

Ginny muttered to herself about being stupid then she floated up again. Being in the middle of a field full of Chasers, Beaters and Bludgers was not a good idea for any Seeker.

Harry had followed her down somewhat. She knew those green eyes kept a close eye on her. He drifted a few feet away as they crossed paths.

"Learn anything interesting down there?" Harry asked.

"Victoria is fast," Ginny replied. "And being amongst them is probably not a good idea."

He laughed then sped away. His words, however, sparked something in her mind. Victoria racing by Ginny, the disturbed air, the tug at her body. Her eyes widened and she thumped a closed fist against her broom. "Of course."

Harry watched in growing frustration as the Harpies continued to extend their lead. The score had slowly evolved; the Harpies were sitting rather comfortably at 460. The Cannons were struggling at 330. The lead was just barely above 150. His search for the Snitch just became very desperate indeed.

Ginny caught sight of the Golden Snitch hovering below Harry on the far side of the pitch. He was flying in the opposite direction. The Harpies stretched their lead by another ten, to 140, as Katie expertly dodged the Cannons' defence to throw the Quaffle through one of the rings. Ginny had to take a deep breath to stop herself from racing after the Snitch. From here Harry would catch it way before she even got close.

Her muscles tensed while drifting along her search pattern. She didn't even alter her path lazily to try and distract Harry. She wouldn't risk alerting him of anything.

He still flew steadily along towards her. Down below the game was becoming heated as the Cannons' Chasers and Beaters sensed the urgency. Two more goals and Harry would be unable to win them the game.

The crowd was growing very loud. The game had already reached its fourth hour, the longest a final had gone in recent years. No one would be able to argue that they didn't get their Galleons' worth today.

Then Harry did something to make her heart sink. He performed one of those blasted routine turns; he was facing the Snitch. She followed, flying carefully to align herself along a parallel path with him towards the Snitch.

"Stay calm, Ginny," she said to herself. Then Harry moved. "Great!" she shouted while angling her broom towards Harry and the Snitch, which still hovered oblivious to the Seekers coming after it.

She thanked the Four Founders that she had managed to get herself just that little bit closer to the golden ball than Harry, but he was edging closer once again. The crowd, having sensed the impending duel, held their breaths. Perhaps it was just the rushing wind that silenced them in her mind.

They drew closer to one another, their paths converging on the little piece of space the Snitch occupied. Her eyes narrowed, studying the ball. It would move, and when it did the direction would be random.

She realised, by the sound of his flapping cloak that Harry had drawn up alongside her. Slowly, inch by inch, the point of her handle began to edge towards the ball. She begged the Snitch to move, it had to move.

Her wish was granted as the golden ball dove and rocketed beneath them. Harry reacted a bit faster this time, but her tighter loop brought her out in front of him. The Snitch loomed ahead. Harry was behind, but for how long?

Pushing her small frame against the broom she raced in an ever descending path down. Her body bludgeoned its way through the air. It tugged at exposed skin and her ponytail flapped about, slamming against her back almost painfully. She willed the Snitch to come closer. She wanted to weave about a bit, knowing now what Harry's little trick was, but that would slow her down. There remained hope that she would reach the Snitch before he could pass her.

That hope dwindled at the horrible sound of another Seeker on her tail. Harry had managed to get into her slipstream again. The Snitch was so close. Harry brushed by, his bright orange jersey blinding in her frustration.

The moment he edged by she dove into the void formed by his large form. Her smaller body fitted comfortably. The reduction in drag sucked her along, and then accelerated her. Harry's orange tail flapped a mere inch from her nose. The handle of her broom almost brushed against the back of his. Then, like a spell cast from a wand, Ginny launched herself out and around.

Her body shook violently as she fought the disturbed air racing over Harry's body. Her hand reached out, drawing closer to the Snitch. His hand was stretched out as well. Their shoulders touched, rubbing against one another as they battled. The golden ball was so close; her fingers could feel the tiny fluttering of its wings. Then it vanished behind a closed fist belonging to Harry bloody Potter.

"It's a draw! A draw! The scores are tied at 480 apiece! Harry catches the Snitch moments after Victoria managed to score an incredible goal of pure desperation. The woman hurled the Quaffle from almost halfway across the pitch. The action caught the Keeper completely off guard."

"I don't think we have ever seen the likes in a final before, Bobby. A normal league game would see both teams share the points for the victory, while the team who caught the Snitch would gain the extra point. Knock out games or the final are different. A clear winner needs to be chosen."

"Indeed, Peter. This moves the game into the first of two formats. The first being a twenty minute battle between the Chasers. The first to score wins the game. If no one scores then we move into a short ten minute duel between the two Seekers. If neither manage to catch the Snitch then the game goes to the team who caught the Snitch during normal play."

"I still can't believe this. After all the amazing flying we've seen all day I find it hard to imagine that it is still not over."

"The pressure will, however, be on the Harpies as they need to win either one of these next two sudden death games."

"That would mean the pressure is on Victoria and her fellow two Chasers. They've been dominating the game so far and the next twenty minutes will probably be their best chance at taking the cup."

"Wait, there seems to be some activity down at the Harpies camp. Bell seems to be having some difficulty standing."

"Good effort, Ginny," Victoria slapped her on the back.

"I failed," Ginny replied, feeling angry with herself. "I was so close."

Angelina joined them. "Wow, Ginny! You got so close. Amazing!"

"I lost!" Ginny said angrily.

"No," Gwenog shook her head. "You stopped Harry the first time and you kept him busy just long enough for Victoria to get the scores even. The rest is easy. We score one simple goal before them and the trophy is ours."

Victoria grinned. "We've got this one coach. Those boys are knackered. Their Keeper's demoralised and for twenty minutes Ginny's hubby is out of the game."

It was then that the players noticed that one of them had still not joined the group. "Where's Katie?" Gwenog asked.

Victoria looked surprised. "She was right beside me. She proved a good decoy at the end."

They all looked up to see a rather shaky looking Katie drift down towards them. Ginny felt her hopes vanish. Blood covered their Chaser's face and her eyes looked dazed.

The woman landed then collapsed. "Are you alright, Katie?" The Healer was already running onto the pitch and pushed the other players aside. "What happened?" Gwenog looked worried, not about the cup, but her player.

The Healer shook her head at them. "While everyone was watching the Quaffle sail through the air and then Harry snatch the snitch, a bludger slammed into Katie's forehead. It's a blessing she didn't fall off her broom."

"Will she be able to fly?" Victoria asked.

The Healer waved her wand over the Chaser lying on the floor. Some of the blood cleared away. There was a deep cut on her forehead.

"That doesn't look good," Ginny muttered.

The Healer seemed to agree. "There is no way she is flying, let alone throwing a Quaffle about."

Gwenog cursed. The team dropped their heads. "I can fly."

Victoria glanced at her. "What was that, Ginny?"

Ginny stood a bit straighter. "I can play Chaser. The rules allow for a change due to injury."

Their coach nodded thoughtfully. "Can you throw a Quaffle?"

Ginny remembered her flight with Harry above their home. "Better than Harry."

A small smile formed on Gwenog's lips. "Right. You can fly fast and you move about well, as we already know and saw a few minutes ago."

Victoria looked deep in thought. "We can use that speed of yours."

The players huddled together and discussed what they were going to do.

Harry watched as Katie landed then dropped to the ground. He noticed how Ginny straightened and the resolute expression forming on Gwenog's face.

"We've got them now, Harry. Katie is out. That leaves them with two Chasers."

Harry shook his head. "I think Ginny's going to take her position. The laws clearly state the Seeker can fly as Chaser in the event of injury."

"But she's a Seeker. They'll use her as a decoy of sort. We just need to keep an eye on her while focusing on containing Angelina and Victoria."

"Perhaps, but Ginny's got a good throwing arm. She grew up with six brothers and played a lot of games with them in the garden. I would not underestimate her."

"Come on, Harry. She's an amateur, what can she possibly do?" Markham said arrogantly. The other two Chasers agreed.

Harry narrowed his eyes angrily at them. "She is also the same amateur that has caught six Snitches in a row in her debut season. The first woman to ever do that. Only the second person after me to do so at all in a debut year!" His voice rose. "Do not underestimate her flying abilities. She's a natural at all things Quidditch."

"I agree," Patrick Edgecombe said after Harry's voice died down. "That woman knows how to handle a broom. And if she can throw a Quaffle well enough to pass then she is a real threat out there. Victoria and Angelina are no slouches and they will know how to make up for any deficiencies." He pointed at the Harpies huddled in a tight circle. Their dark green jerseys blended seamlessly into one another. "They're planning while we're trying to laugh off a threat."

"Screw your heads back on boys," Harry said firmly. "One slip and the game is lost."

The three Chasers nodded. "Now let's plan what we're going to do."

Ten minutes later Harry watched as his three Chasers, two Beaters and Keeper flew up into the air. They had twenty minutes to either win or keep the Harpies from scoring. Harry's one hand ran through his messy hair and the other was between his teeth as he chewed on a nail.

The Harpies shouted, and then mounted their brooms to fly up into the sky. Ginny, looking smaller than ever, followed Angelina and Victoria. He walked around to where Gwenog and Katie were sitting.

"You alright, Katie?" Harry asked.

The girl winced slightly as she nodded. "I'll be fine in a day or two."

"Sorry about the Bludger."

The woman waved her hand dismissively, but her expression hinted at frustration. "I wasn't paying attention. The shot at goal from Victoria was too important."

He nodded and then looked up into the air as the battle began again.

Ginny had not been so nervous since her very first game for the Harpies. Usually she would be high above this congested space filled with Chasers and Beaters. Her competition was usually a fellow Seeker and her objective a singular elusive Snitch. Now her mind would need to focus on a few more items.

A whistle blew and the Quaffle flew into the air. She gave a burst of speed and snatched the ball out of thin air before the Cannons' Chasers players could blink.

Patrick, however, was more alert and quickly sent a Bludger in her direction. Performing a quick corkscrew dive, Ginny evaded the Bludger. It cost her momentum. With limited options she hurled the ball across to Victoria who caught it deftly with one hand before racing across the pitch.

The players merged into swirling oranges and greens as they ducked and dove around one another. Victoria and Angelina were working well together, but a slow reacting Ginny resulted in Jonathon stealing the Quaffle.

Samantha and Catherine, who had been ready for this, rallied quickly. Their combined efforts slowed the Cannons' advance, allowing the three Harpies Chasers to get ahead of the Quaffle.

To Ginny the game was slowly coming into focus. The blinding speed of the two best Chaser teams in the league quickly humbled Ginny. But she knew that she could keep up, it would just take a different type of flying. Less pure speed, more deft manoeuvring. She also began to take in more than just the Quaffle and Bludger. A part of her mind analysed the relative positions of the opposing Chasers, their speed and direction. It was a matter of predicting.

The minutes ticked by quickly. A magical board showed that there were only five minutes left before she would need to take to the sky again against Harry. Deep down she knew it would be over if they did not score.

Ginny watched as Jonathon lifted his arm to pass to Mitchum. Below and to the side she noticed Mark easing closer. As Jonathon made to pass to Mitchum, Ginny bolted into the space between Jonathon and Mark. It was a feint and the Quaffle soared through the air and into Ginny's waiting hand. The large ball felt unfamiliar in her palm, but she quickly tucked it safely between her body and arm as she wrestled her broom across the pitch with one hand.

The air was open between her and the three goals. Her speed would not allow them to catch. This was what she had been waiting for, what Victoria had wanted. Ginny bit down on her lip and let her broom do its work. She glanced back quickly, Angelina was high above, Victoria raced down below.

The Cannons' Chasers who had all been flying towards the Harpies goal posts had fallen way behind as they had needed to turn. The real problem lay with Patrick and Grant. Their experience and keen eyes had kept them close. The Bludger flew rapidly between them. Then with an almighty smash from Grant it came flying straight towards her.

She faced forwards, uncurled her arm to free the Quaffle for a throw, and continued to race towards the Keeper. The plan was still working. His eyes were locked onto the Quaffle, his body rising up with her as she flew towards the highest hoop.

Ginny let her arm pull back and threw. Except the Quaffle did not fly forwards, instead it dropped like stone. Immediately, Ginny yanked the handle of her broom upwards. The Bludger grazed her feet. Her broom was still pointed up into the clear blue sky when the crowd erupted.

Harry stood tensely as he watched the unfolding play. He could sense the danger a mile away. Beside him Gwenog clapped her hands together in anticipation, a sign that did not bode well for the Cannons.

Grant whirled his arm and the horrible sound of Bludger racing towards Chaser washed over him. A part of Harry wanted the horrible ball to distract Ginny, the other part

stared on in wander as she began an outright race with the flying ball. A race he knew she would lose.

It was then that he noticed what would be the end of a four year winning streak. Ginny was the decoy. Philip was falling right into a trap as he drifted away from the centre hoop towards the top one where Ginny was aiming at. He was not looking at the speeding form of Victoria coming up from behind or the silhouette of Angelina above.

"Get down!" Harry shouted. "Get down you fool!"

"It's no use, Harry," Gwenog said excitedly.

Ginny made as if to throw and then the Quaffle dropped. Her broom rocketed into the air in a death defying stunt as the Bludger missed her by a hair's breadth or less. It took a moment for him to pull his gaze away from Ginny trying to slow her broom down and towards Victoria who plucked the Quaffle out of the air to swiftly deposit it neatly into the third hoop without a Keeper in sight. Philip sat staring in horror two hoops away as the final was lost.

The stadium erupted. Gwenog was jumping up and down. Harry did the only thing possible, he dropped to the ground while trying to comprehend the idea of losing. His head dropped into his hands. They'd lost, really lost.

The Cannons' fans had all slumped into their seats and were sitting in identical postures to Harry. He did manage to stand, however. The people needed him to remain strong and in control. There would always be another season.

Ginny dove down towards her teammates. Angelina already had arms around Victoria. Ginny landed beside them.

"Come here you little upstart!" Victoria shouted as she practically crushed Ginny in a hug. "Perfect, just perfect!"

Ginny blushed at the compliment. Angelina replaced Victoria. "You had those boys fooled the entire time."

Catherine and Samantha landed and the team huddle grew. Michelle arrived along with Gwenog and a slightly woozy Katie. One thing they all had in common were huge grins and bright eyes. Photographers were running circles around them as they tried to snap pictures.

While being embraced by Michelle, Ginny noticed a somewhat dejected looking Harry. His broom lay beside him as he spoke to his team. She could tell he was trying his best to motivate them, which was an impossible task. Defeat stung, but then again she had yet to feel that at this level.

Her attention was diverted by Gwenog who lifted Ginny off her feet. "Girl, you really are something." She clapped Ginny's shoulder. "Couldn't have asked any better of any one of my Chasers."

Ginny just nodded. She couldn't remember if she'd said a word so far. The idea of winning was overwhelming. The entire team went silent as a wizard stepped out of the grandstand carrying a large golden trophy. Dark green ribbons hung from the two handles and beneath she knew that the team's name would already be inscribed.

A loud voice, booming over the boisterous crowd, stilled everyone.

"Welcome everyone. Before we hand over the runner up mugs I would like to call on the losing captain, Harry Potter."

The crowd clapped appreciatively. Harry walked up, waving a hand at his supporters to stand alongside Bobby who Ginny now recognised. "Tough day today, Harry."

"A bit more pressure than we would have liked." Harry smiled. "But from the moment I stepped out of the changing room before the game I could sense the level of determination and readiness of the Harpies. During the brief moments staring down at their flying I could see their hard work paying off. Today the Harpies were the better team and along with my fellow team mates I would like to congratulate them." The crowd cheered in response. "Lastly I would like to thank all of our supporters. You are all very dear to us and thank you for coming out to support us. Hopefully we can return the favour."

Harry shook hands with Bobby and then the Cannons team came up to collect their silver mugs. Harry gave her a small grin and lifted his souvenir to her. She winked back at him.

Bobby spoke again. "Now a quick word from the winning Captain, Victoria Hughes."

The home fans roared like never before. Feet were stamping and around her teammates were jumping up and down.

"How does it feel, Victoria? Four years later and you've finally managed."

The Harpies Captain struggled to contain her broad smile. "It feels good." She let out a laugh. "I can understand why Harry's been hogging the trophy." Harry said something which made Victoria laugh even more. "My girls really worked hard this year. We knew the season would be tough, especially the final against the Cannons. They gave us a good fight today and had things worked out slightly differently then Harry would've been standing here now." She took a deep breath. "I would also like to thank the Cannons for playing a fair and clean game, which I am sure the all the fans appreciated today." The crowd made their approval known in a deafening shout. "And then a quick thank you to our loyal Harpies fans. You are the best and thank you for supporting us over the years."

An official motioned them forwards. Ginny followed her teammates as they stepped up onto a small conjured platform. She shook hands with Bobby and a few other officials,

the last of which handed a small replica gold plated trophy to her. It struck her as odd that she had never seen Harry's.

Then Peter's voice roared. "I give you this year's League Champions!" An official handed the large trophy over to Victoria who hoisted it up into the air. It was only a matter of time before Ginny had her turn lifting the surprisingly heavy trophy over her head.

The unnaturally loud voice of Bobby roared over the crowd and they stilled. "There are a few more announcements to make people! You know the drill." The crowd laughed, eagerly.

"First it is my pleasure to announce the player of the year." He paused long enough to open a sealed evenlope. "Ginny W… Potter!"

Ginny's eyes widened, but a firm push from Angelina sent her walking across to Bobby. Ginny's head swivelled around and she found Harry clapping and cheering loudly in support. Seeing him truly happy made her relax a bit.

Bobby, not much taller than her, stood smiling before her. "What a season, Ginny."

"It's been something," she replied a bit stiffly.

"Something," Bobby scoffed. "Wasn't this young lady incredible?" The crowd shouted their approval. Ginny imagined hearing Harry shouting the loudest and her cheeks blushed. "Six Snitches and almost beating the legendary Potter tonight. Then you graced us with your skills as a Chaser. Is there anything you can't do?"

"Well I didn't beat him, but it was a fun duel."

"Fun?" Bobby asked. "Going neck to neck at break necks speeds just a few feet from the ground."

Ginny laughed. "Yeah, it's what we live for."

"Dear Merlin," Bobby croaked. "You sound as bad as Harry himself. That brings me to my next question." He twirled his hand. "Could you turn quickly?"

Ginny turned so her back was facing Bobby. "Potter. When did this happen?"

"A week ago." Ginny blushed even more.

Bobby almost dropped his wand. "I think we should get the lucky man up here again."

Harry shuffled free from the reporters and photographers to join her and Bobby. He came to stand next to her, an arm wrapped comfortably around her waist. It was the closest he'd been since he'd caught the Snitch. She leaned against him.

"What do you have to say for yourself, Harry?"

"Just that I am lucky to have this wonderful woman by my side. She's every bit as special a person as a Seeker."

Bobby clapped his hands together. Ginny added, "Well, Harry is much more than meets the eye. He really taught me how to be myself, to truly embrace my talents as person and player."

Harry squeezed her a bit tighter. She looked up to see his face coming down. Their moist, salty lips met. Cameras flashed; it was only natural. The kiss deepened, her arms wrapped themselves around his neck. Self-constraint kept her feet on the ground and not around his hips – barely. She'd missed him after the game.

They eventually managed to break apart. Witches and wizards in the crowd were beside themselves as they cheered and whistled. Harry only held her tighter as they left the podium to join the Harpies.

Harry let his arm drop so that his fingers could intertwine around hers. "I can't tell you how amazing you were this afternoon," he said softly to her.

"Well I wouldn't go calling your performance lousy," she responded. "But I think I managed to catch on to your little trick."

His eyes widened, green sparkling. "Did you now?"

She nodded confidently. "But I'm not saying since it might not be your trick." Her gaze grew mischievous. "Therefore it could be my trick."

"It could be." He tapped his chin ponderously. "So now you want me try figure out your trick?"

"Of course. I've got to keep you guessing."

"Yeah, you did come around me rather quickly. You were just a moment too late." He shook his head. "I know it's my trick."

"Not saying." She sealed her lips. "It might be."

"Argh!" he cried out playfully. "You're killing me. I'll tell if you tell."

"Nope, this is way too much fun!" He lunged at her, fingers attacking her vulnerable sides. Her laughter filled his ears.

"Harry and Ginny Potter!" A loud, very official, voice boomed. It made them pause in the middle of the tickle war he'd started. They looked up to see nine players of various teams already standing on the platform. They were all wearing red shirts of the English National Quidditch team.

Samantha leaned closer. "Harry, you're Seeker and Ginny's reserve."

"What!" Ginny squeaked.

Harry began to laugh. "I guess we're both going to the World Cup this summer. Think of all those training sessions in which to learn my secret from you."

"My secret," she huffed, eyes betraying nothing.

He kissed her cheek then led her onto the platform for the start of yet another journey with the crazy woman he called his wife.