Summer
She was not sure she had wanted to come home, but it was not as if she had had a choice.
Two days ago, she had been sitting on the Hogwarts express, surrounded by people she knew inside out. Now they were spread for the wind for the rest of the summer, it felt like she left her left arm at Kings Cross.
Two months ago, she had been hoisted up on Warrington’s shoulders, showing the cup to her house-mates, surrounded by team-mates as Flint himself cried of joy. Not fighting to be accepted, but in the centre of their euphoria over winning the tournament.
Two years ago, this had been her entire world and now, now she was not sure how she fitted into it.
Her mum did not mention the lack of letters coming from Ginny the last year and Ginny did not mention the Howler. There was a lot of things they did not mention when she thought about it. They talked about the twin’s year of Quidditch without anyone mentioning anything about her playing Quidditch. They spoke about Ron’s friends without her parents asking about hers. But when they had listened to Percy’s analysis on how his NEWTs went, her dad did ask about her year exams. She knew they cared about her; she really did and they did try. Alex heatedly words about appreciating what you got while you have it had stuck with her, and convinced her; she would also try.
Ginny spent a week trying to be the daughter her mother wanted. Helping her cooking the dinner while watching her brothers play Quidditch through the kitchen window. Taking knitting lessons while Ron and the twins went down to visit the little village. Watching from a distance while her brothers threw garden gnomes onto the field on the other side of the fence. Okey, that one she was willing to sit out on – if only the reason had not been that her mother regarded her ears too delicate. It was only through Flora’s meditation exercises and Professor Lupin’s occlumency lessons she did not burst. The exercise she found was working best for her was to empty her head completely. She found that it worked even better if she combined it with putting up the, truthfully really weak, mental shield that Lupin had thought her. The side effect was that she looked dreamy and sometimes completely missed to answer her mother’s questions, but it worked. Though, it wore on her, being stuck washing dishes when she could have been in the air – preparing to beat Gryffindor to dust again next year. Especially, Ginny thought, since her mother just could have waved her wand at the dishes…
The eight evening at the Burrow Ginny knew she could not put of Alex pleading request anymore and went to find her parents in the living room. She kind of already knew what the answer would be. No matter their silent truce, Ginny had seen the way her mother had looked at her green and silver garments while helping her unpack her trunk. But she had promised to give it a shot.
“Mum, dad?”
“Oh, hi Ginny” her father greeted her warmly.
“The world cup this summer, do you think a friend of mine could come with us?” Her parents exchanged glances.
“Which friend?”
“Alex,” Ginny paused, thinking that maybe it would be easier to get them to say yes if she did not throw out an old-pureblood name from a family known for dabbling in the grey. Her mother raised her eyebrow in a way that left Ginny no choice but to elaborate “Alexandrina White”.
Silence fell in the living room, just broken by some cracks and bangs coming from Fred’s and George’s room. Ginny saw her parents communicating silently and thinking on some of Flora’s research she wondered if they exchanged something more than just glances.
“She can pay for herself, no worries,” Ginny realised, when she saw her mother’s eyes hardened, that it probably was not the wisest thing to say.
It was her father that spoke “Ginny, I’m sure Miss White is a nice classmate but your mother and I would really like for us to spend time as a family this summer – we rarely see each other as it is.”
Ginny thought back to Flora’s advices on how to calm herself. Keeping her temper far calmer than she ever managed when rowing with her Quidditch Captain the last year, Ginny gave her prepared answer:
“It’s okey, I write to her – she will understand. Hopefully Tyler or the Carrows can bring her.”
Nice, compliant, but still a faint gibe that a bad conscience should be in place. She had toyed with the idea to use Alex status as on orphan without extended family to convince them but it did not feel right. Alex had wanted to keep that away from the public and she was not going to be the one to let it out. Walking away she could see something twitch in her father’s face but Ginny could not place what had been wrong in her answer. That night Ginny tried to keep the bitterness out of her letter to Alex when she wrote the bad news, it was not right to make it about herself. But she was not sure she managed.
Ten days into her summer holiday Ginny’s father came out to her when she sat watching the sun sinking towards the horizon.
“Ginny, honey,” what could warrant the ‘honey’? She had done absolutely nothing wrong this summer. She had even avoided to laugh at the twins’ meaner pranks on Ron and Percy.
Her father sat down next to her and talked like they use to when she was a child living in the Burrow full-time. Funny anecdotes from work, the latest muggle invention he heard about, what Charlie had said in his last letter. It was been nice, really nice, if it wasn’t for her anticipating the other shoe to drop.
“Ron said you kept away from that Flint boy, good. So much older and with known Death Eaters in the family. Your mother only wanted your best. Of course, it is hard to choose your friends when you… well when you live down in the dungeons. But we can help you, your brothers can help you. It seems all your friends are from old pureblood families. Maybe Ron can introduce you to some of his friends?”
Ginny fought to keep her head empty. “I will think about it,” the words felt like a betrayal.
“You are a good girl Ginny” her father looks almost pained but continues “you spoke of some Carrows, are they your house-mates?”
“Flora and Hestia are in my year, they are brilliant!” Finally, one of her parents showed interest in her friends. “You know they were the ones realising I was… well possessed, my first year? They always have so well-versed opinions and such knowledge about magic. If there ever is something they do not fully understand, they never give up before they grasped it. And…” Ginny stops herself, realising she is rambling. But it felt so nice, sharing some of her world with her father, particularly after over a week of keeping her head empty.
“Yes, I can imagine. The Carrows have a reputation of being knowledgeable in… well in many different magical areas. That is also what I wanted to…. I mean, maybe you shouldn’t spend so much time with them? You being in the same class you can’t avoid. But maybe not so much after classes?”
Ginny stands up. Not trusting herself she just nods vaguely and manage to get up to her room before her tears starts flowing. But Ginny Weasley is not the type of girl to cry herself to sleep, she tries to remind herself as tears starts to pour down her cheeks. Before she falls asleep, she has made her decision. From tomorrow she will follow Hestia’s advice. She has tried to be the one they wanted, now it was time to be herself. If they did not want her; their loss and she was not going to show that she cared.
The next morning Ginny wakes up early, she leaves a note that she is going to visit Luna for the day before taking on her quidditch-shoes and some shorts and one of Ron’s old t-shirts before sneaking out. She takes a morning run through the forest. Even though she never been there – she managed to reach her target in just some more than half an hour, it is only a few miles from the Burrow. Walking around the large house, she tried to see any sign of which window she was looking for. When a black owl appeared in one of the windows Ginny laughed out loud – so easy had nothing else been this summer. She throwed some pebbles at the glass, causing Arrow too hoot and soon the shape of a person coming to the window.
“Gin!” Tyler’s freckled face hanged out of the window. He had apparently spent the ten days apart in the sun – getting a lot more freckles and a lot brighter hair.
“You’re blond like a Malfoy” Ginny greeted. “Come on down and let’s see if you have gotten any of his flying skills as well!”
Tyler’s head disappeared and soon he showed threw up the door to the house with a broom in either hand. “My sister’s” he explained before throwing one of them at Ginny. She spent a minute admire the broom. It was a Cleansweep Nine and in perfect condition, probably cleaned and trimmed at least once a month. “Are you just going to look at it or do you want to fly?”
The moment Ginny’s feet left the ground she felt her awful start of a summer just melting away. After half an hour of playing a made-up game of catch, Tyler got a Quaffle out of a shed. Ginny never thought she felt happier than when he threw it to her and flew up to the Fawcett’s homemade goal hoops. An hour later when Mr Fawcett called them in for breakfast Ginny had all but forgotten the silence at home and her father’s talk. Not even Sophia’s threat ‘if you scratch my broom, I don’t care about any laws about underage magic’ dented her euphoria over being back on a broom.
The firsts days are the hardest to make up excuses. But after a few days nobody asks where she is anymore, as long as she is home by dinner. Maybe they appreciate the absence of awkward silence as much as she does. Whatever the reason Ginny takes it without questioning as it gives her the opportunity to spend the summer flying around with Tyler, going looking for magical creatures that Ginny is not even sure exists with Luna, going fishing with Tyler and Sophia, and even practising her aerial tricks when Mrs Fawcett is at home and agrees to act as airguard. The landing is still the hardest part, but every day, her percentage of angling the broom right and hitting it on the way down goes up.
Just in time for her birthday Charlie and Bill arrives with the side-effect of her not being able to sneak out as often. But their presence also brings an end to the tension that had been there since Ginny came home from Hogwarts this year. Ginny surprises herself by being relaxed enough to laugh with her father at Charlie chasing after the twins to get revenge for some prank. She even volunteers to help her mother prepare her birthday dinner.
The evening the day after Ginny’s birthday her parents was off to Aunt Muriel’s.
“Bowtruckle, are you going to show us the reason that Quidditch Captain of yours thought it was worth threatening all of us to have you on his team?” Charlie’s use of his old nickname for her makes Ginny roll her eyes, which six-year-old does not love to climb every tree they see?
“You do know that every second thing Captain Evil say is a threat, right?” Ron says.
“Jealous nobody ever threatened anyone to get you on any team?” Fred replies, never losing an opportunity to make a taunt at Ron even if it meant, almost, defending Flint.
Even Percy follows them out to the makeshift pitch, though he ends up drawing out an arm-chair from thin air and starts reading a book he brought. But it is nice anyway, Ginny thinks while she is digging out every broom she can find in the shed. She could not remember the last time the seven of them spent time together. Ginny takes a quick look at their meagre broom supply, Fred and George’s old Cleansweep Fives that are in even worse condition than ‘her’ Cleansweep Five back at Hogwarts. Ron’s Shooting Star that he got when he turned seven. The Cleansweep Sevens Fred and George got to inherit from Bill and Charlie earlier this summer when dad convinced mum that they were never going to move home and use them again. Lastly a battered Cleansweep Four that their dad had used when he was in school.
“You are the old Quidditch Captain” Ginny smirks as she throws the Cleansweep Four at Charlie while grabbing a Five for herself.
“So that is how you are going to beat me little sis?” Charlie laughs, apparently confident in winning against her no matter what broom he was on.
Knowing the advantage of getting underestimated Ginny let him believe that she needs that extra edge the better broom gives her. Charlie is one of the best flyers she knows, could probably compete with both Pucey and Gryffindor’s Angelina Johnson, but he was a seeker not a chaser. Smiling innocent, she answers “That was a bit sneaky of me I guess, but you can get to choose your team-mates.”
“To much fair play for you own good Bowtruckle,” Ginny almost laughs, a lone Slytherin in a band of Gryffs and he accuses her of playing too fair, though he takes the opportunity anyway. “Fred and George then, with fly-keeper.”
“You do realise that muggle football term is kind of stupid in Quidditch?” Bill askes with an eyebrow raised.
“No antagonizing the enemy Bill, you heard Charlie – I’m all for fair play.” Ginny drags Ron and Bill away from the rest for a tactical talk.
“Who died and made you Captain?” Bill asks amused.
“According to the betting pool going on in Slytherin there is a chance Snape has already,” there was a betting pool going on that Marley had started on when she would become Quidditch Captain. Two people had their bets down on fifth respectively sixth year and a naïve first-year had betted third-year according to Marley. Ginny felt the whole thing was ridiculous, she did not know anything about leadership. “Ron, you ok with playing Keeper – non-flying-keeper I mean?” Ron snorts at her wording but nods.
“Nice, Bill, two things. One, if I jump of my broom be prepared to catch me if I miss the landing. Two, let me know if you want to score as well.” Ginny knew she was cocky, probably too arrogant and she really hoped she did not have to eat it up. But she planned to show her brothers exactly what she thought of seven years not being allowed to play with them. And, she rationalized, the twins were brilliant beaters, Charlie an amazing seeker – but they would not have made even the top ten at the chaser-trials Slytherin held last year.
“Don’t get overconfident sis and don’t jump of any brooms.” Bill chastised her, apparently thinking she was joking on both accounts.
“Wait and see Bill, I actually seen her jump of a broom” Ron said with a vague smile.
Ginny could see Bill thought they were jesting him, it was not as if anyone had been stupid enough to tell him or Charlie about her jumping into Fred’s bludger, but she also saw him double-checking that he had his wand. Ginny followed up with explaining some simple plays and manoeuvres she thought they were going to be able to do together.
“Ready to get beaten?” Charlie called. Smiling casually back she took off together with her brothers. “Then let’s begin! Here little sis, you can start with the Quaffle” Charlie threw her the Quaffle.
Ginny caught the Quaffle and before either of Charlie or the twins had any opportunity to react, she had zigzagged between them and easily throwed the Quaffle through the middle hoop, score. Fair play was over.
Though when Fred passed the Quaffle to Charlie and they made for their first attack Ginny realised a difference between this pick-up game and the one at try-outs. She could not really blatch her brother, could she? Even if she kept the tackles on the boring side of the rules, it probably would not fall out well with her Gryffindor brothers.
Bill did not have the same reservations; he flew straight into Charlie and the collision made the Quaffle fly out of the flabbergasted Charlie’s hands. Reacting on instincts Ginny threw herself towards the Quaffle and plunked it out of the air before George baffled face. Fred went up against her, obvious with his intent to use his larger size to get the Quaffle back. He was right, without speed on her side he did have the advantage, thinking as fast as she could she just stopped flying. She let the broom drop freely before accelerating again, now a meter under Fred. It was one of Flints favourite moves when they had played around in the air after practice. Dangerous at games since you were rendered helpless towards avoiding bludgers, while falling freely, so therefore rarely used and not so widely known.
Now when she was on the other side of her opposing brothers, the goal hoops were open and she saw Bill had managed to get away from Charlie. She realised Charlie was after her and the Quaffle, probably having dropped the nice big brother act now. Ginny signed at Bill to get towards the scoring area at the same time as she shot up as to attack the left hoop that was furthest up. If Charlie believed she would go against that one this might work and if he did not, he would leave the left hoop open for her to attack for real. He was fast, that Ginny had to admit – but unused to tackling as an old seeker; it was a bit obvious what he was going for. The moment before he was getting close enough to shove her and get the Quaffle Ginny spun around her broomstick. Holding the broom with her right hand and the Quaffle in her left, carefully keeping her centre of gravitation as Warrington had showed her to be able to control the broom one-handed upside-down. Charlie swished past just an inch above her, but in just a moment he would turn and they smash if she did not make the pass. Waiting just a sec more Bill got into the position she wanted and she made the pass. Afraid to crash into Charlie, she did not look if Bill caught the Quaffle, instead she threw her left hand back on the broom and spun back up. Right side up she managed to see Bill easily pitching the Quaffle into the middle hoop.
“I would also have thrown a fit to keep you on my team,” Charlie looked at her as if he had never seen her before. In a way he had not. This was not Ginny Weasley, youngest and only daughter. Or even the ten-year-old sister he took out flying in Romania the Yule when she for the first time told anyone outside of Luna about her dream to play Quidditch professional. This was Ginny Weasley, Slytherin’s Quidditch prodigy.
“He didn’t”
“What?”
“Flint didn’t make that threat to keep me on his team. He didn’t want me on his team, I conned him. But when mum sent that howler, well… he really doesn’t like being told what to do...”
Before Charlie could answer Ginny took off to high-five Bill, who almost pulled her off the broom in their victory-hug.
Seeing that Charlie had taken off with the Quaffle, Ginny accelerated to catch up with him but realised there was no-way she was going to make it – he was too fast on a broom, even on a Cleansweep Four. Bill was catching up with Fred who had joined the attack and was blocking any pass that direction, it was up to Ron vs Charlie. Charlie feinted right before taking a shot at the left hoop. Ron threw himself towards the hoop, both hands out towards the Quaffle, holding on to the broom only with his legs. ‘Come on!’ Ginny cheered quietly, though the Quaffle was too far away from him. Or so Ginny thought, Ron stretched out further than she thought was possible, Ginny held her breath. Yes! He did it, got his fingertips on the ball and managed to thrust the Quaffle away from the hoop. On her way to catch the Quaffle Ginny shouted:
“Way to go Ron, knew you had it in ya!”
When she looped around the hoops to get ready for a counterattack, she saw Bill high-fiving a beaming Ron.
“Save the celebrations to afterwards, we got a game to win!”
Passing the Quaffle to Bill she zigzagged to get past George and get in an okey angle towards the scoring area. Seeing Bill coming in from above she made a fast move to the right to get free and he threw her a pass. Though she was a bit far away to score, she had to get further up to reach the middle hoop. Her brothers were a bit away, there would be no problems raising her broom to make the shoot. But where was the fun it that? Ginny thought with a smirk and climbed up on her broom in a practised motion, the quidditch-shoes really made this so much easier than last summer when she had tried to practice the move. Jumping of her broom, just in time to pitch the Quaffle through the hoop, Ginny could hear both Bill and Charlie scream behind her. This time though, unlike that time during try-outs and the Gryffindor-game, she actually had learned how to do it properly, Pucey had lived up to his promise before the term ending, and it was worth every summer day of practice when she landed in a rehearsed move on her broom again, a brilliant smile in place.
“Are you mad?!” Bill bellowed at her.
“That’s so cool!” Fred exclaimed “You never have done anything like that at the games!” He was right, she had not been allowed – but no way was she going to tell him that.
After that the competition part of the game fizzled out and they starting to trying to best each other on who knew the coolest quidditch-trick.
Walking back to the Burrow over an hour later Charlie fell into steps with her.
“You were second reserve? Slytherin have four chasers better than that?”
Ginny grinned at him, “Captain Evil made me first-line after my first game. I must have forgotten to tell you.”
They spent the rest of the night lounging in the living room, the twins trying to convince Bill to teach them some new curses while Ron and Percy played a game of Wizarding Chess. Tonight, Ginny thought, it felt – for the first time in two years – completely possible to be both a Slytherin and a Weasley. Even though, when she stood up to go to bed, she turned in the door.
“Hey, guys. Would you please not tell mum and dad about this quidditch-thing?” She could see on her older brothers that they did not like it but they nodded anyway. All except Charlie, who raised a questionable eyebrow – he was the one least aware of the tension that had been in the Burrow not just during this summer but for long before that. “Just don’t want to risk anything,” Ginny added vaguely and Charlie nodded, seemingly trusting that she had her reasons.
The day after when Ginny got home from swimming in the lake with Luna a familiar black-haired boy was sitting at the dinner table. “Hey, Ginny!” Ron greeted, “Have you heard the news? Harry and Hermione are going to the World Cup with us. Fun, right!” Ginny felt herself slipping back inside her shield of uncaring again after the last days mistake of thinking everything was okey. Ron’s friends were still considered family and hers were treated as if they had spattergroit.