What Happens in the Changing Room...

The referee allowed Ginny two minutes to warm up. She didn't hear the murmurs of surprise coming from the crowd. She did hear the whoops of glee from her brothers. Reserve Chasers didn't normally come in as Seekers, but Gwenog had stared her in the eye and made a small gesture with her head, as if to say, 'Can you do it?' Ginny felt her stomach flip, but she nodded. Gwenog had made her play every position at least once during practices. If anything, Gwenog loved a team with versatility. Most of them could play at least one other position passably, if not well.

Ginny swooped by the family box and slowed enough to toss a cheeky grin to Harry and give her parents and brothers a small wave. Molly looked anxious, but attempted to smile at her, while Arthur beamed proudly, returning her wave enthusiastically. Harry... Harry's gaze was something altogether different. He nodded with approval and something else she couldn't quite put her finger on, but the referee blew his whistle, signaling the end of her warm-up, and Ginny sighed with no small regret and directed her broom toward the ground.

She landed next to her teammates, huddled together on the pitch. 'Caerphilly's Seeker isn't very aggressive,' Marion, one of the Chasers murmured. 'She was in a bad crash a few months ago and hasn't quite gotten her nerve back yet.'

'Nobody's asking you to knock her off her broom,' Gwenog said swiftly, giving Marion a censorious glare.

'Well, of course not,' chuckled Caroline, the Keeper. 'But you can use it to your advantage,' she told Ginny. 'Their Seeker gets a bit spooked if anyone's flying too close.'

Gwenog studied Caerphilly's team for a moment. 'I think she might get pulled soon,' she mused. 'In that case, their Reserve Seeker's fair, but...' She trailed off.

'He's all right,' interjected Mandy, one of the Beaters. 'Been on the Reserve squad for ages, hasn't he?'

Helen, the other Beater snickered. 'He's too slow,' she scoffed. 'But it's not his fault,' she said mockingly.

'Never is,' sighed Anna, the third Chaser. 'Mind yourself if they put him in the game,' she warned Ginny. 'He's not above shoving you off your broom, or leading you into a chase that'll put you in the path of a Bludger.'

'He ought to play for Falmouth, but he isn't good enough,' Mandy added.

The shrill whistle of the referee pierced their ears. 'Time's up,' he said and threw the Quaffle into the air.

Ginny launched herself into the skies, filled with exhilaration. She flew over the pitch, her plait flying behind her, robes billowing with the autumn breeze. She paused for a moment, scanning for the Snitch. Is that it? she wondered, seeing a glint of gold. Directing her broom into a steep dive, she zoomed toward it, coming close, but not dangerously so, to the Caerphilly Seeker. The woman shrieked and nearly fell off her broom. She clutched at it, but her fingers closed on the empty space in front of the handle, and she went hurtling toward the grass below them. The referee pointed his wand at her, slowing her motion, until she landed gently on the pitch. There was a heated discussion between the Seeker and her captain that culminated in the Seeker flouncing off the pitch past a man standing hopefully with his broom. The referee blew his whistle and announced a player change.

They allowed him a few minutes to warm up, as they had for Ginny, then the game resumed. Ginny began to fly in random patterns over the pitch, her eyes darting around the other players, dodging the Chasers and Beaters, keeping a corner of her attention constantly on the opposing Seeker, all the while searching... constantly searching for a glint of silver or gold in the sunlight. She sensed, rather than saw, the Caerphilly Seeker's striped bright green and scarlet robes in her peripheral vision. He swooped in Ginny's direction, but she hooked an ankle around the broom and tilted over in a sloth roll, avoiding being knocked off her broom. She threw him an indignant glare, then pulled her broom up into a loop that put her behind him. She continued to zigzag around the pitch, scanning for the Snitch, diving or streaking toward it. She had only a vague idea of what the score happened to be, and didn't hear the roar of the spectators at all. Her world had narrowed to the desperate, silent struggle to catch the Snitch before the other Seeker did. She traded shove for shove with him, knocking his grasping hand away from her.

Suddenly, Ginny shot straight up, kicking at the other Seeker's hands as they tried to grab her broom. She pried one hand off the handle and her hand closed around the Snitch, its fluttering wings sending vibrations through her arm. Ginny howled in triumph, drifting toward the ground, the wings protruding through her clenched fingers. She stood in the center of the pitch, her fist thrust over her head, searching the family box for Harry, calculating how long it would take the two of them to extricate themselves from the rest of the family and make their way back to her tiny flat in Holyhead.

Ginny was soon inundated by her teammates, an eddy of stillness in the jostling tumble of dark-green robes. 'Press'll want to talk to you,' Gwenog rasped over the gleeful shouts of the team.

'Why?' Ginny asked.

'How often does a Reserve Chaser come in as a Seeker and win?' Gwenog chuckled. 'Come on.' She led Ginny to the area in front of the Harpies changing rooms where a boisterous group of people already waited. Harry stood to one side, leaning with studied casualness against the wall, eyeing the press with a wary expression. Ginny darted to him, beaming, with the same hard light in her eyes that he had seen as she ran at him across the common room after she helped Gryffindor win the Quidditch Cup her fifth year.

'Where are the others?' she asked, searching the area behind him.

'Charlie's taken them to a pub for dinner,' he murmured. 'I've been sent to take you over after you're done here.'

A slow smile spread over Ginny's face. 'Brilliant.'

It was only the buzz of the people and the flashes of light from cameras behind them that prevented Ginny from leaping into Harry's arms. 'Miss Weasley! Miss Weasley!' one of the reporters shouted.

Ginny squeezed Harry's hand and rose on her toes, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. 'Don't go anywhere,' she ordered, allowing the hand that wasn't in view of the reporters to roam familiarly over his bum. She gave it a surreptitious squeeze before she turned to the phalanx of waiting reporters. Harry's eyes widened in surprise. While it was true he and Ginny occasionally engaged in public displays of affection, they had never been quite so brazen.

Harry resumed his nonchalant pose against the side of the building that housed the Captain's office, players' lounge, and changing room and let his attention focus on Ginny. She had pulled the outer robes off in deference to the unseasonable September warmth and chatted amiably with the reporters. His eyes traveled slowly down to her toes and back up. School Quidditch uniforms were made in general sizes and students hoped they could find one that didn't make them feel as if they were drowning in it. The one she wore now seemed as if it had been made specifically for her. Every curve was visible, outlined in the deep green of the jumper and tightly-fitted tan trousers. Her cheeks were flushed with the pleasure of winning the game.

Harry's eyes narrowed as he sidled closer to Ginny, scowling slightly at the male reporters. He could see them eyeing Ginny. She was oblivious to it, of course. She wasn't meant to see the quick once-over they gave her. Harry knew that trick. He's used it himself on several occasions. He saw one of the photographers give Ginny an appreciative glance, lingering over her bottom. Harry quietly moved nearer to the man and let his scowl deepen while he conspicuously cleared his throat, uncrossing his arms to shake his wand into his hand from the holster hidden in his shirt sleeve. The photographer's gaze swiveled toward Harry, then immediately dropped to his camera, fiddling with a few buttons and switches. Yeah, that's right, Harry thought with a smirk. I could hex you into next week without thinking about it. He caught Ginny's eyes and smiled at her. She grinned impishly at him, tossing the end of her plait over her shoulder.

Ginny's toes curled inside her boots. She could see Harry from the corner of her eye, glowering at the poor photographer. It nearly made her laugh out loud, but she contented herself with a grin, lifting the heavy plait off the back of her neck, tilting her head slightly to one side, exposing her neck in veiled invitation. Harry loved to nibble the skin just under her ear. Winning Quidditch games always made her feel giddy, but winning this one had aroused her nearly to the point of incoherent thought. She was amazed she could still answer the reporters' questions and smile for the cameras when all she wanted to do was drag Harry back to her flat and have her way with him. She could see Harry, making his way around the edge of the group of reporters, pacing slowly, as if he were stalking his prey. He is... she chuckled to herself.

Gwenog stepped in front of Ginny. 'All right, that's enough. Let the heroine of the day go celebrate.' She gently pushed Ginny toward the building. Ginny headed for the door, and deliberately met Harry's gaze, tilting her head in the direction of the building. Harry immediately took a few steps forward, but hesitated, eyes flicking toward the mass of reporters. Ginny subtly gestured once more for him to join her, a coy smile spreading over her face. Harry glanced at the reporters and once he was assured they weren't paying him the slightest bit of attention, quickly slipped inside the building after Ginny.

Ginny turned to him as soon as the door closed behind them, and wound her fingers into his hair, pulling his head down, pressing her lips to his, her teeth gently closing on his lower lip before she deepened the kiss. The kiss broke and Harry breathed, 'Blimey... What brought that on?'

'Winning,' Ginny told him, as she began to work his jacket down his arms.

Harry chuckled against her mouth and returned the kiss. 'Winning is good.'

'So is this,' Ginny murmured, shoving the jacket to the floor and attacking the buttons of his shirt, pulling the tails from his trousers.

'What are you doing?' Harry whispered, scandalized.

Ginny looked up at him, panting, her eyes glazed with something between love and lust. 'Please,' she said quietly. 'I want... I need to...' She slid a button through the buttonhole. 'I need you,' she breathed.

Harry let his hands rest on either side of her waist, fingers splayed over the curve of her hips. His head jerked back toward the door. 'Anyone could walk in,' he muttered uncertainly.

Ginny's smile turned alluringly wicked. 'I know.'

Harry's eyes widened. 'Oh...'

'Come on, Harry...' Ginny tugged at his hand, leading him into the changing room. She stopped at her locker and slipped something into the pocket of her trousers, then continued into the steamy tiled bathroom. Shower cubicles lined one wall. Their frosted glass doors hung ajar, indicating they were vacant. Ginny unlaced her boots and kicked them off, peeling the thick socks away and tossing them into the laundry bin in the corner. She took the hem of her jumper in her hands and pulled it over her head, then reached into the pocket of her trousers, putting the square foil packet between her teeth. Her trousers joined the jumper on the floor and she stood in front of Harry, clad only in matching dark green knickers and a bra, trimmed in gold.

'Even your knickers match the team uniform?' he blurted. 'Bloody hell...'

Ginny just winked and reached for the buttons of his shirt, unfastening the rest of them. She yanked the shirt off his arms and threw it to the floor and began to work on his trousers, her movements growing increasingly frantic. Especially once she felt Harry's teeth begin to nibble the skin behind her ear. His hands batted her fumbling ones away from his zipper, and he roughly shoved his trousers to the floor, growling with frustration when they caught on his shoes. He impatiently toed his shoes off and jerked his trousers off, taking the socks with them. Ginny backed into a cubicle, towing Harry after her. She twisted the tap, sending hot water flowing over them both. Harry firmly shut the door behind them and pulled the foil square from Ginny's teeth.

He hooked his fingers into the waistband of his sodden boxers and pushed them down his legs to land at his feet with a splat. Harry reached behind Ginny and deftly unhooked her bra with one hand and she let it fall to the floor, gasping involuntarily as Harry's teeth closed around her nipple. His hand slid over her stomach and to her back, gliding into the back of her knickers, fingers curving over her bottom, slowly working them over her hips and down her thighs, his fingers dipping briefly between them, eliciting another startled gasp from Ginny.

Eyes narrowed, Ginny took the condom back from Harry, ripping it open with her teeth, and quickly smoothing it over his erection. Harry considered lifting her, and taking her standing upright, but his feet slid a little on the slippery tiles. Instead, he grabbed one of Ginny's arms and turned her around, so she faced the wall. He laced his fingers through hers and bent her forward slightly, sliding into her with a grunt. Ginny nearly cried out, her nails digging into her palms. One of Harry's arms wound around her waist, his chest pressed against her back. Ginny pulled her hands from Harry's grasp and braced them against the wall, arching her back. Every thrust made her moan, the soft mews echoing off the walls. She threw her head back as tremors rippled over her, hushed keens reverberating around them. Harry's arm convulsed around her waist as he climaxed. He let his head fall to her shoulder, breathing harshly. He took a few steps backward until his back hit the opposite wall, and he slid to the floor, taking Ginny with him.

Ginny's head rested against his shoulder and she tilted her face toward the shower spray. 'You need to come to all my games...' she breathed weakly.