Chapter 1 : Flyer
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“Hello you, how are you, nervous?”
“No Harry, not nervous, I’m absolutely bricking it.” She hefted her bag on her shoulder.
“I’ve got twenty spare pairs of knickers in here. Just in case.”
“You’ll be fine once the game starts, don’t worry.” She glanced over her shoulder as chaser Woody Carpenter called out,
“See you in the showers Potter, don’t be late.”
“OK Woody, I’ll finally be able to see what you’ve got that you’re so proud of. I brought a magnifying glass today.” Carpenter flipped his biggest finger at her. She returned the gesture but used her little finger. “Nah, it’s more like this.” she said. Harry laughed. He admired the easy banter that this team could enjoy. They had a reputation as a close-knit group in which there were no star players or ego’s, except that all of them were star players to whom the ego’s didn’t matter.
As Ginny was the only girl on the team there had, inevitably perhaps, been rumours about improper behaviour in the locker room. Harry remembered the press conference called to refute the allegations. Ginny had calmly and decisively denied every point put to her, especially the last one.
“Do you also deny being naked in the showers with the men?” the reporter had asked. Ginny had smiled,
“Yes I do.” She said emphatically, “I have never been naked in the shower with the men”, she began before adding cheekily, “I always had my shower cap on.” The conference dissolved in laughter, the allegations and rumours defeated with ridicule.
Harry had no worries about Ginny, he knew only too well that she would always give as good as she got. He put his arms around her and they kissed. “Good luck today Ginevra, give ‘em hell.” He always used her full name on match-days; it had become a sort of good luck ritual. They hugged again.
“I’ll do my best Harry.” The gruff, impatient voice of the manager intervened,
“Put him down Potter, for at least the next ten days you’re arse is mine. Get it inside and get changed. Piss off Mr. Potter; I don’t need you messing up my seekers’ head at this stage.”
Ginny Potter sped through the air high above the stadium. The match had been going for nearly three hours and it had been a brutal affair with both teams, England and Turkey, indulging in some very dubious tactics. On the Quidditch field Ginny was no angel, she had already received a caution. She was pissed off by the warning which had not been for foul play but for mouthing off at the American referee. All she had done was to cast doubt on his sexuality and his relationship with the Turkish seeker, that wasn’t so bad was it? Unless of course it was true. She knew that another infringement would result in her being sent off, which would mean that she would be banned from the next match. The fact that England were leading Turkey by 150 to 130, and the next match was the Quidditch World Cup Final in Rome, concentrated her mind wonderfully.
Her Quidditch career had been meteoric and had seen her star in the Holyhead Harpies title winning seasons for the previous four years. Her international debut had begun even quicker, flying for England less that a year after being signed virtually straight from school by Holyhead. Now it was posters of her that adorned the walls of youngster’s bedrooms all over the country.
Today Ginny was playing Seeker. She felt good, her Firebolt Mk V humming beneath her, was flying like the thoroughbred it was. Today was also her fourth wedding anniversary and victory would be another layer of icing on the cake.
Then suddenly there it was, low down near the centre spot. The Golden Snitch. She pulled the Firebolt into a tight diving turn. Her neck muscles strained to keep her head level against the G-forces that seemed determined to rip it from her shoulders. No time for subtlety now she just had to go flat out. Her white cloak, bearing the red cross of the English flag moulded itself close to her body, reducing drag, increasing her speed.
The Snitch flew erratically, but Ginny matched its every move. She stretched out her left arm and as her fingers closed on it the Turkish seeker smashed into her right side. As her left hand caught the Snitch her right arm shattered. She started to fall until the match official on the ground hit her with a Cushioning Charm and lowered her gently to the ground. Through the intense pain she raised her left arm with the snitch in her hand. The English fans went crazy. England would play the hosts Italy in the Final.
The Healers from St. Mungo’s, attached to the England team for the tournament, rushed to Ginny’s side and quickly transported her to the treatment room. Waiting outside the room Harry Potter watched as his wife was rushed past him. He just had time to grasp her good hand as she passed. “You’ll be OK. Well done, you were brilliant.” then the doors swung closed.
The senior Healer examined Ginny’s arm, as one of his assistants took care of relieving the pain. Yet a third one was checking her general condition He stood at the top of the table and laid his hands on her forehead then moved to her feet and checked her legs before laying his hands briefly on her abdomen. Ginny didn’t notice when he called his senior away for a brief conversation. Both healers glanced at her from time to time. They resumed their tasks, with the Healer in charge mending four breaks in Ginny’s arm. She would be sore for some days. The final is ten days away; I’ll be ready for that, she thought confidently.
Half an hour later they allowed Harry to visit his wife. She was still lying on the treatment table; Harry saw she had tears in her eyes.
“What’s up love, are you still in pain? Shall I call the Healer back?”
“I can’t fly in the final Harry. The Healers won’t let me.”
“Why not, they fixed your arm didn’t they? You’ll be ready in time for the Final.”
“It’s not my arm Harry. It’s some stupid rule about only one person allowed on a broom.”
Harry knew the Quidditch rule book pretty well and flipping through it in his head he could remember no rule about more than one person on a broom. Why would anybody want to have have more than one person on a broom? He was flummoxed. “Sorry Ginny, I don’t understand.” More tears flowed. This time with a huge smile.
“I’m pregnant, Harry,” she said excitedly, “we’re going to have a baby!” A moments stunned silence, then Harry’s scream of delight drowned out the noise of all the English supporters in the stadium.
A N. This has been in my plunny file for a very long time. I finished it in 45 minutes. It’s not going to set HPFF on fire, but I like it. If you like/dislike it, please leave your opinion in the form of a review.
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