The Off Season

When Harry and Ginny stepped into the pub, they were greeted by a rousing cheer from their teammates. They made their way through the crowd to the bar, where Ginny sat quickly on a padded barstool to rest her still-aching leg.

They each ordered lagers and began to talk with Oliver Wood, who was standing nearby. When the old barkeeper shuffled back with their drinks, Harry reached for his wallet, but before he could get it, a large hand reached between them to lay a galleon on the bar.

"This one's on me, Tom," said Bole from behind them.

Ginny looked up in surprise.

Clapping Harry on the shoulder, he said gruffly, "Just my way of saying thanks."

Harry toasted silently with his pint glass, and Bole nodded solemnly before returning to his conversation with the other Beaters at the back of the pub. Ginny frowned questioningly at Harry, and he silently tapped the lightning-bolt scar on his forehead in explanation. She nodded and lifted her glass in a toast as well.

"Good game today," Wood said, breaking the silence. It took Ginny a moment to figure out that he was talking to her.

"Thanks," she said, trying to cover her blush by taking a sip of lager. "You weren't making my job any easier, you know."

Oliver scoffed. "You didn't need any help out there."

"She's thinking of trying out for the Cannons," Harry broke in. "What do you think?"

Ginny scowled at him. She wasn't thinking about it at all. At least, she hadn't been until Harry brought it up, and brought it up again and again. Until today, she hadn't even played Quidditch in over two years. There was just no way that she was good enough.

"Well, she's certainly good enough," Wood pronounced, after scrutinizing her for a few moments. "Could use some training up a bit, though. Practice."

Harry nodded, as though he were taking notes.

"You should ask Felina, though, mate," Oliver said. "She's the scout."

"I'll do that," Harry agreed. He drained his glass and set it down on the bar, signaling to Tom for another.

"Felina's a scout?" Ginny asked Oliver.

"Yep." Oliver nodded. "She's worked all over the place. Was at Puddlemere when I got signed, and after that with the Tornadoes."

Ginny whistled. "Was she there when they--"

"Yep, she was the one who discovered that fabulous Seeker they had. Found 'im in a semi-pro league in Outer Mongolia, if you'd believe it. Bloke won them three championships."

"In a row," pointed out a squeaky voice. Ginny looked toward the source of the sound and saw Felina standing next to Oliver, with Harry behind her.

"Let me get you a chair," Oliver offered.

"No need," Felina said with a smile. She pulled a wand out of her pocket that was thin, short, and looked perfectly in proportion with her small size. Waving it gently in a circle, she conjured what looked like a round, plush footstool. She turned around and sat on the center, then tapped the cushion once with her wand. The footstool seemed to grow like a giant mushroom, and Felina rose quickly to Ginny's eye level.

"Now," she said in a very businesslike way. "I hear you're thinking of becoming a professional."

"Erm," Ginny said.

"Yes, she is," Harry said quickly.

"Is she?" Felina asked, looking intently at Ginny's face. When Harry opened his mouth to speak again, she held up a tiny palm in his direction. "Why don't you get yourself another drink, Harry? We'd like to have some girl talk."

Harry looked a little taken aback, but he complied, grabbing Oliver by the elbow and pulling him away toward the other end of the bar.

Felina watched them go with an impatient look on her face, and did not start speaking to Ginny again until they were out of earshot. "Now," she said. "Is professional Quidditch something you want?"

"I don't know," admitted Ginny.

"What are you worried about?"

"After I was injured, I couldn't play," she explained. "I could barely get out of bed. And I just never started again. With the war and all... it just didn't seem that important. Today was the first game I'd played in two years."

Felina looked surprised.

"You haven't played in two years?"

"Well, not until today."

"And now you are considering playing professionally?" The little woman quirked her eyebrows.

"Well, not..." Ginny trailed off and took another sip of her beer, which was getting a little warm and flat. She tried to figure out how to take the question in her mind and put it into words. "I don't know if I can. I suppose I want to know if it's even a possibility before I start to consider it."

Felina nodded. "So..."

"Do you think I should consider it?" Ginny asked.

She seemed unwilling to offer an opinion, instead answering with a question of her own. "How do you feel about the game?"

"Feel?"

"Do you enjoy playing?"

"Well, of course!" Ginny said. "I love it. I miss it so much from school, and now that I can play again..." She paused. "Now that I know I can play again."

"If you could have any job, and money was no concern, what would you do?"

"I guess Quidditch would be my second choice. I was planning to be an Auror before I was hurt. But there's no chance of that now." She looked down at her leg and frowned sadly. The mangled muscle twinged as though it knew it was being talked about.

Felina nodded silently, looking thoughtful, and Ginny realized that the tiny woman must have had her own disappointments when it came to playing Quidditch.

"Tell me," Felina said, suddenly seeming to change the subject, "about when you began playing."

Ginny grinned. "The first time I played on a team was in my fourth year when I filled in for Harry. But the first time I played..."

"Yes?"

"I was so young, my mum would have killed them if she knew," Ginny said nostalgically. "My brothers, the twins, they decided they wanted to be Beaters. They were ten and I was seven. They made me..." she paused for dramatic effect, enjoying the spellbound look on Felina's face. "They made me be a moving target for them," she said, laughing.

Felina threw back her head and laughed so loudly that many of the other patrons in the bar turned to stare.

"The best part is," Ginny said, laughing too. "I loved it. That actually made me want to be a Chaser."

Clutching her stomach and rocking back and forth, Felina laughed even harder than she had before. Katie stepped up behind her and placed both her hands on Felina's shoulders, steadying her.

"Careful," she said teasingly. "Don't fall."

Felina was obviously making an attempt to breathe normally and failing miserably.

"What's so funny, anyway?"

"Oh no," Ginny said firmly. "Oh no, I can't tell you, you know them."

"Target... practice," wheezed Felina.

"What?" Katie asked, her eyebrows raised.

"Fred and George," Ginny said, trying to sound reluctant. "They, ah..."

"They used you for target practice?" Katie asked, covering her mouth with one hand.

"Taught me to fly," she replied simply.

Katie began to giggle, still covering her mouth.

"I need a drink," Felina said, shaking her head and wiping tears from the corner of her eyes.

She tapped the edge of her stool with her wand and it shrank down to the floor again. "And Ginny?" she asked, looking up with her head tipped back. "The answer is yes. You certainly should consider it."

Ginny's stomach fluttered, and she bit her lip.

"I think I need a drink, too," she said, her voice shaking. She raised her hand to signal for the bartender.

-----

Two hours later, Ginny was leaning heavily on Harry as they sat side by side at the bar. He had spilled his beer and was attempting to wipe it up with his sleeve, and her cheeks hurt from laughing.

A hand touched Ginny's shoulder and she turned her head quickly, blinking a little as the room caught up more slowly than it should have.

Oliver stood behind them, and if she really squinted she could see that the bar was nearly empty behind him.

"I'm out of here," he said. "You two gonna be all right to get home?"

Ginny giggled.

"Oh yeah," Harry said, nodding his head vigorously. "We're gooood."

"If you say so, mate." Oliver looked doubtful, but he clapped Harry on the shoulder and left anyway.

"Everybody left," Ginny pointed out.

Harry giggled. "They did!"

"Maybe we should go too," she said, watching Tom wipe down tables.

"Should we?" Harry asked. "Oh."

"Oh," she repeated, giggling some more.

Somehow, they managed to stagger out the door and down the street to the Apparition point, leaning on each other in turns.

"C'mere," Harry said when they got there, holding out his arms.

"For what?" she asked suspiciously, in a too-loud voice

"We gotta Ap-- papper--Appermate," Harry said, and they both laughed.

"Maybe we should walk," Ginny said.

"Nono, 'ts fine," Harry insisted, wobbling a little on his feet.

"I don't know 'bout you, but I need all my body parts," Ginny said, patting herself down for extra emphasis.

"Oh-ho, me too," Harry said suggestively, opening his arms again and motioning her to him.

"Gimme that," she demanded, handing out her hand for his wand and wobbling a little herself.

He let her take it, but while she was distracted with the wand, stepped forward and enveloped her in a big hug.

His body was warm, and they fit together like puzzle pieces. The smell of alcohol rose off of him, but there was also another smell, a hint of tangy sweetness that made her lick her lips. She extended her tongue and swept it across her upper lip, but halfway along it was intercepted when Harry pressed his mouth to hers.

It was certainly the sloppiest kiss she had ever received. His lips were open and his mouth was wet, but her lips were only slightly parted, and at first she didn't really realize what he was doing except wetting the bottom part of her mouth with his saliva.

In surprise, she opened her mouth to tell him off, but instead he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss. By now, it had become a kiss. Their tongues tangled, sliding gently across one another. The stubble that was only barely visible on his cheeks and chin scraped across her face and although it hurt, the sandpapery feeling of it sent shivers dancing across her skin, reminding her of her own contoured shape. Somehow, her fingers ended up twined in his hair, and one of his hands dipped below her waistline, holding her firmly against him. She clung to him desperately, feeling as though she were waking from a long sleep.

She realized now that this was what she had wanted for a long time. When he whispered in her ear after the championship match, when he pulled her close to apparate, when he took care of her injuries and understood her need for privacy... it had all been leading to this moment.

He broke the kiss and began trailing his lips down her throat, murmuring unintelligible words against her skin. When he reached the pulse point at the base of her throat, he kissed her there, soundly, and moved his way up to her ear.

"Ginny," he groaned, and the sound of his voice made her thighs tingle. "I want, I need, I mmmm..."

She tilted her head back, trying to give him access as best she could, thrilled with the thought that what he wanted was her.

"My wand."

"What?" she said, moving away even as his teeth latched onto her earlobe, causing him to bite down. The pain and the shock of his words combined with the force of a cold shower. He didn't want her at all. Her drunken mind stumbled over the idea and into the next logical one: he'd only kissed her to get his wand back, not for any other reason. Shocked and angry, she reacted without thinking.

Bracing herself with her good leg, she placed her hands on his shoulders and shoved forcefully. Drunk and caught off guard, he stumbled backwards and fell hard onto the cobblestone street.

As haughtily as she could manage, given her drunk and disheveled state, she threw his wand at him and marched off down the street in the direction of the Leaky Cauldron.