The Harry Potter series and all characters therein belong to J.K. Rowling
Warning: this story contains spoilers for the first five HP books — that is, every book up to and including Order of the Phoenix.
"And the brooms are in the air! Gryffindor Chaser Ginny Weasley immediately catches the Quaffle — weaves around Slytherin Beater Gregory Goyle — Beater Jack Sloper knocks a Bludger at Goyle from above — nice shot, he's improved since last year — Weasley passes to long-time Chaser Katie Bell — she's going for the leftmost hoop — Keeper Bletchley moves to — no, she's passed it back to Weasley, who goes for the right — GOAL FOR GRYFFINDOR!"
The entire audience yelled at the tops of their lungs as Hogwarts' first Quidditch game of the year got underway. The Gryffindors cheered, the Slytherins booed, and the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs did a little of both. Harry Potter soared to his customary opening position high above the pitch, his eyes darting back and forth in search of the Golden Snitch.
"Slytherin Chaser Malcolm Baddock has possession — this is his first game, let's see how he does — Gryffindor Chaser MacDonald is on his tail — Baddock slips! MacDonald has the Quaffle — ooh! A Bludger nearly struck MacDonald! She seems fine, but the Quaffle is falling — picked up by veteran Slytherin Chaser Adrian Pucey..."
Anthony Goldstein, Ravenclaw sixth-year and loyal member of Dumbledore's Army, sat next to Professor McGonagall in the observation tower. He had volunteered for and eventually won the position of commentator, which had been left vacant by Lee Jordan's leaving. He seemed to be doing well; he knew a lot about all the team members, he was very enthusiastic about the game, and... Well, if it had been Lee up there, McGonagall would already have blown up three times by now.
'I do kind of miss Lee's trademark Slytherin-baiting, though,' Harry thought wistfully. 'Good thing they didn't put a Slytherin up there. Doubt I could stand that for more than one game.'
As the game stretched on and Harry swept through the tangle of Bludgers and broomsticks, he listened to Anthony's commentary with one ear. "Slytherin in possession — Chaser Elaine Kennedy, very talented second-year, first female on the team in over twenty years, you know — Gryffindor Chaser Natalie MacDonald misses — she's also a second-year, new to the team— Kennedy throws — no, feints — throws — SLYTHERIN SCORES!"
A glint of sunlight caught Harry's eye — but it was only a reflection from Jack's glasses. Another flash to his left, and he turned — but it was just Ginny's fiery red hair, which tended to catch his eye whether they were in the air or not. She looked nice today.
"Ohh, another excellent block on the Gryffindor side — Keeper Ronald Weasley must have a Quaffle-attracting charm on his gloves — eight shots by Slytherin and only one has passed him so far!"
Crabbe and Goyle, in a rare display of teamwork, batted both Bludgers at Harry in unison. He curved out of their paths without giving it more than a moment's thought.
"Gryffindor Chaser Ginny Weasley has just made her fifth goal! For those of you who are colorblind, I'll point out that Ginny is Ron's younger sister. She joined the team last year, filling in as Seeker — I'm sure most of you remember — but today she's made it clear that Chasing is her true calling."
Harry flew close to Ginny as they passed in the air; he caught her eye for a split second and they shared a grin. As he further sought the Snitch, he came upon the opposing Seeker Draco Malfoy, looking for the same ball he was.
"Hey, Malfoy," Harry called, laughing, "too bad about your team. Seems they can't handle a couple of 'worthless redheads'!"
"I'm not worried," was Malfoy's reply, which flew in the face of all available evidence. His teeth were clenched and his eyes shone with barely-repressed fury. "This year, we're not going to lose."
"Oh, really? Tell you what, how about I sit out the rest of the game? You're so bad and Ginny's so good, we'll have a 200-point lead before you even see the Snitch!" With that, Harry swerved away from the fuming Malfoy, laughing to himself. He rarely got such a good chance to needle Draco.
Of course, Harry reflected, his smile abruptly gone, he didn't even need to speak these days to make Malfoy mad, what with having landed his father in Azkaban and all. He rather doubted any arguments like "Well, I'd have happily left your father alone if he'd not tried to kill me" would help. Every day Harry worried that Malfoy was on the verge of doing something incredibly stupid, and —
A streak of gold shot across his field of vision, so close he could practically smell it. He jerked around — was that — it was! And Malfoy was all the way over at the Slytherin goal! He accelerated to top speed, ducking down close to his Firebolt — it had never failed him yet — the game was won — he let go of the broomstick —
"Whaaat?!" Harry howled. "Time-out?! She can't be serious!" Madam Hooch lowered her whistle and gestured at him to land; the Slytherins were already landing on their side of the pitch. Harry swore, quietly, but with feeling, as the Snitch fluttered away from him.
"So, Captain Weasley," Ginny said, grinning mischievously at her brother, "how about a few words of encouragement before we get back on our broomsticks?"
"Yeah, let's have a speech!" Andrew cheered. Natalie giggled and nodded, leaning against him.
Ron spun around to face his team, looking positively flabbergasted. "W-what? You — you want a speech?"
"Sure, like Oliver used to do," Harry said with a grin as wide as Ginny's. "Something inspiring. Something that'll get our hearts pumping and our blood flowing!" He glanced over at Ginny and caught her eye, and they covered their mouths in unison, very nearly unable to stifle their laughter.
Most students assumed quite mistakenly that either Katie or Harry would captain the Gryffindor team. In fact, Professor McGonagall had decided to leave the choice up to the team, and after their first practice Harry had given a short but impassioned speech — in Ron's favor. Ron's head for strategy had made him an excellent captain, but he still wasn't used to being the leader — and that made him easy to tease.
"Like Oliver's, eh, Potter?" Ron retorted weakly. "How's this: 'Get the Snitch or die trying.'"
Harry snickered along with the rest of the team. They all knew the tale Ron was referring to; at Ginny's urging, Harry had begun telling them his best Quidditch stories after practices.
"Okay, well..." Ron paced up and down in front of them, face and ears a very familiar shade of red. "Umm, lemme think... er..." he stammered.
Harry knew he had to look away or he'd never stop laughing. He looked across the Quidditch pitch and saw the seven Slytherin players huddled in a circle. As he watched them, Malfoy straightened up — was he frowning? It was hard to tell at that distance — and pointed at Harry. No — Harry squinted — he was pointing a bit to Harry's left. Harry glanced to his left and saw Ginny, eyes closed and face flushed, still giggling at Ron. He was too preoccupied to really notice the warm feeling that came up in his chest as he looked at her.
Harry turned back to glare coldly at the Slytherins, who had been staring in the direction Malfoy had pointed and were now nodding to him. 'What is that slimy twit planning? If he does anything to Ginny I'll take that Nimbus of his and...'
Ron banged his broomstick against the ground (startling Harry out of his borderline-murderous train of thought) and said, "All right, listen up. We're the best team this pitch is gonna see all year. We've got the Boy Who Seeked —" Harry raised an eyebrow at that. "— an incredible trio of female Chasers —" Ginny and Katie smiled, while Natalie blushed. "— our Beaters are great, and considering how bad you two were last year that's really something —" Andrew and Jack looked a bit sheepish, but neither one of them challenged Ron's assertion. "— and, of course, there's our incredibly talented and devilishly handsome Keeper." Ron stopped and struck a silly heroic pose as his teammates laughed.
"The Slytherin team's gonna use all the nasty tricks they can," he went on, "'cause they know they can't beat us in a fair game. Just keep this up and stay alert and we'll leave those idiots choking on the Bludgers!"
The team paused to absorb Ron's improvised speech.
"That... was bloody brilliant, Captain."
"Watch your language, Andy!" Natalie exclaimed. Andrew blushed and muttered a quiet apology.
Ron shook his head. "Right, you lot happy now? Let's get out there and win already!"
"The time-out has ended, folks. Gryffindor has possession of the Quaffle — Chaser Bell throws to Chaser MacDonald — to Chaser Weasley — to Bell — to Weasley — to MacDonald — to Bell — MacDonald — Weasley — Bell — she shoots! GRYFFINDOR SCORES!"
The game didn't take long to get back up to speed. Harry tried to focus on his search for the Snitch, but he found he couldn't help glancing at Ginny every few seconds, just to reassure himself that Malfoy hadn't... hadn't... well, hadn't done whatever it was he had planned. Finally he shook himself out of it. Ginny could take care of herself. She'd done fine in the Gryffindor-Ravenclaw game last year, hadn't she? Even if she'd never played against the Slytherins before, she knew what to expect. She'd be fine.
"The score is currently 90 to 20 in Gryffindor's favor, thanks to the efforts of the Gryffindor Chasers — especially Ginny Weasley, who seems ready to make a sixth goal — Bletchley is keeping an eye on her at all times... You know, Gryffindor hasn't had a male Chaser since 1987..."
The Snitch was being annoyingly elusive. Harry was considering tailing Malfoy (that would be a switch, wouldn't it?) when he heard a feminine yelp above him. He spun furiously, recognizing Ginny's voice. Sure enough, she was rubbing her right calf and glaring at the nearby Bludger. Jack flew up and knocked it away, but it was too little too late in Harry's opinion.
"Weasley has been grazed by a Bludger!" Anthony shouted. "Excellent beating by Crabbe — Ginny appears to be fine — Quaffle in the hands of Baddock — Sloper takes care of the Bludger..."
Before Harry could even curse himself for being so easily distracted, he saw the well-timed double attack. Adrian Pucey buzzed as close above Ginny as he could get, startling her and leaving her disoriented; at the same moment, Goyle hit the other Bludger at her from behind.
'Ginny's going to get hit.' He didn't think past that. He yanked back on the Firebolt and rose so fast that his ears popped.
The collision sounded wet and not at all healthy. Harry spun out of control for a few seconds before grabbing his broomstick with the only hand that he could still feel. He heard Ginny shriek through the pounding in his ears. Blood was already soaking into the sleeve of his robes. 'Good thing we Gryffindors wear red,' he thought sardonically.
The game didn't stop for an injured player, and neither did the commentary. "Potter's right arm has been crushed! This is rather reminiscent of his second year — in the first game of the season, a rogue Bludger broke that same arm. Even with that broken arm, though, he managed to grab the Snitch before then-and-current Slytherin Seeker Draco Malfoy. Let's see if he can shrug off this injury as well."
Burning pain filled Harry from his shoulder down, but somehow it wasn't as bad as the old break Anthony had mentioned. The part of his mind that always seemed to stay detached muttered, 'Obviously, I must be getting used to pain.' His arm dangled uselessly, an unfortunately familiar sensation.
"We need a time-out!" Ginny yelled, hovering close to Harry. Natalie looked ready to be ill; Harry remembered she'd never been much of a Quidditch fan — she'd tried out on a dare, and she probably hadn't ever seen how bad injuries could be. Andrew flew back from beating the Bludger practically into the dirt, Katie had given up chasing after Baddock, and the Golden Snitch —
Harry gaped. There it was. "No time-outs!" he roared, tightening his grip and taking off, ignoring his arm as best he could. Broken bones weren't something he enjoyed, but he'd be damned if he was going to break his arm and lose to the bloody Slytherins! He'd catch the Snitch in his mouth again if he had to!
The Golden Snitch flew close to the ground, and Harry followed, no more than a foot above the grass. He flew, faster, closer, let his hand off the broom, held on with his knees, and grabbed. His left hand closed around the Snitch just as he slipped off the Firebolt. He landed hard on his broken arm.
White-hot pain stabbed at him, as if the Cruciatus curse had been focused on his right arm. This was more like second year, Harry decided. "And the final score is Gryffindor 240, Slytherin 20! Gryffindor wins by over a 200-point margin!"
They'd won the game. It was safe to pass out now. Harry did so, hoping fervently that when he awoke, he would not see Lockhart's face.
After ten years of living in a house with three of the nastiest Muggles alive and five more years of danger and nightmares, Harry had developed a tendency to wake up swiftly. He opened his eyes and took stock of the situation, going from unconscious to fully aware in moments. He was in the hospital wing, lying in the bed closest to the exit. Ron sat to his left and Madam Pomfrey stood to his right; the room was empty but for those two.
Harry's arm looked and felt better already; Madame Pomfrey had apparently been working on it during his short unconsciousness. She examined it with a critical eye, prodding it gently with her wand. When Harry showed no inclination to scream in agony, she finally muttered, "Yes, that should do it. I'd like you to stay a half-hour, just so I know it grew in properly, but you're free to go after."
"That's it? But second year you had to —"
"Yes, well, second year that incompetent Lockhart got himself involved, as you no doubt remember. Merely mending a broken bone is a snap for any moderately skilled healer, let alone a healer who's been mending bones for over —" She stopped herself, as if she'd been about to reveal some shocking secret — which, perhaps, she had. "... Some time," she finished lamely.
Harry heard Ron snicker, and he couldn't stop the grin. "Well, I'm glad to have a healer with 'some time' of experience working on me." Seeing her scowl, he hastily added, "Thank you. It feels better already."
Madam Pomfrey nodded. "You'll probably feel a little numb for the rest of the day, but by tomorrow you won't even remember it was broken at all. I'll be back to check on you at —" She glanced at the clock. "— 12:43. You can leave then, not a moment sooner." She excused herself.
Harry turned to Ron. "I guess I haven't been out long, then. Is Ginny around? Or Hermione?" he added.
"They're both at the tower. Hermione wanted to get her books," Ron replied, rolling his eyes. "We didn't know how long you'd have to stay."
"Y'know, when I gave you that 'die trying' line, Potter, it was a joke."
"Oh, thanks for the hint, Weasley. Prat."
A comfortable silence rested over the two boys. Ron eventually commented, "That was a pretty unlucky accident, wasn't it? You ending up in front of that Bludger and all."
"Mmh," Harry responded. He was fully aware that it hadn't been an accident, and he was rather hesitant to say so to Ron. Especially with Ron grinning like he was. What was so amusing? He'd only taken a Bludger for Ron's little sister, that was all...
Only it wasn't, was it? Harry hadn't been thinking of her as 'Ron's sister.' He'd just thought 'Ginny,' and the thought that Ginny might have ended up with a broken arm gave him a stomachache. Somewhere along the line he'd gotten really protective of her. Almost like she were his sister — no, no, definitely nothing like that. Harry wasn't certain what exactly he was feeling, but he thought he wouldn't be feeling most of it if he were really related to Ginny.
Harry shook his head as if he could knock the unclear thoughts out his ears, thinking he'd never wanted a Pensieve more than he did in that moment. He glanced at Ron, who seemed a little disconcerted by Harry's sudden movements. Maybe he could help interpret this feeling. "Hey Ron? Can you answer a question for me?"
"Sure, if I know it."
Now how to put it into words? Harry asked, "Have you ever... ever felt like... like..." And all in one breath, "Like it doesn't matter what happens to you, as long as someone else is safe?"
Ron gave Harry an exasperated look. "Oh, only every single time we get into trouble." He paused and took a deep breath. "Seriously, Harry..." he said softly. "I never say it, but... me, Hermione, Ginny, Mum and Dad... We'd all do just about anything for you. You know that, right?"
Moisture welled up in Harry's eyes; he blinked it away hastily. Could Ron know how much that meant to him? Maybe he did. There was only one thing he could think to say. "... Why?"
Ron groaned, "Bloody hell, Harry, have I gotta spell it out?"
"Because we love you, Harry. We all do. And Ron, stop swearing." Hermione, arms full of books and parchment, slid into the room and sat in the chair beside Ron. Harry hardly noticed her.
Ginny stood in the doorway, back in her school robes. Her arms were crossed and she looked rather cross herself. Harry hadn't seen her angry like this since a month ago, when Seamus had accidentally shot a Weasley's Searing Spinner Firework (Fred and George's latest) into the girls' dormitory. He was reminded of Ginny's mother; he imagined this was a younger (and no less dangerous) version of what it felt like when Molly Weasley was upset with you.
"I see you're awake now," she said flatly.
Harry tried to figure out something to say, but nearly everything in his head had fled before the realization that Ginny was incredibly gorgeous when she was angry. Those sparks in her brown eyes were fascinating. The small part of his mind that retained coherence thought, 'This must be how Ron feels when he fights with Hermione. No wonder he always says such stupid things.'
"Um, yeah," he finally managed. He was uncomfortably aware that his face was reddening. "Madam Pomfrey took care of everything. How are you? I saw —"
Ginny cut him off. "Oh, I'm fine, because some complete idiot put himself between me and the Bludger. What were you THINKING?!"
Harry swallowed. What was she so mad about? Was she worried? "Ginny, calm down, please. I've had worse, you know that, and I'm all patched up now anyway." He flexed his newly-healed elbow a bit for emphasis. "It's no big deal, really."
"Yes, I know you're healed, but that's not the point, is it? The point is that you threw yourself in front of a Bludger, and I want to know why you did such a stupid thing!"
"Would you have preferred I let the bloody thing hit you in the back of the neck?" Again, imagining that made his stomach twist unpleasantly. "Ron, help me out here!" he pleaded.
Ron, who had been watching the exchange with barely-disguised amusement, blinked at him, trying to look innocent. "Um, sorry, Harry, but Gin gets angry like Mum gets angry, and I refuse to get in her way when she does. Hermione and I —" He took Hermione by the arm and pulled her to her feet. She stared at him as if he'd gone mad; her books lay forgotten on the floor. "— will be going to get some lunch while my dragon-like little sister tears you apart."
As surprised as she was by his actions, Hermione had evidently heard something she couldn't let pass. Their voices trailed away as they walked down the hall. "The word is 'draconic', Ron."
"No thanks. I refuse to use any word with Malfoy's name in it."
"Don't tell me that just because of that bad association you're going to reject a perfectly good Latin root..."
Harry shook his head, chuckling, and said, more to himself than to Ginny, "One of these days they're going to go from arguing straight into snogging, and I only hope there's a camera nearby when they do."
"Harry, don't change the subject." Harry winced as Ginny took a chair and glared at him, obviously unwilling to budge. "Why did you fly in front of the Bludger?"
Harry was beginning to get frustrated himself. "I just didn't want it to hit you! Is that hard to believe or something?"
"Well, why didn't you just shout to warn me?" Ginny asked.
"I — oh." Harry felt himself blush again. "I... didn't really think of that," he muttered. "Sorry."
Silence returned, a very awkward kind of silence. Harry glanced up at Ginny, who was staring at his bedsheets, and felt a slight tug at his heart. She really was very pretty, though Harry expected she was the type who wouldn't believe it if she were told so. But more than that, he just... enjoyed beingwith her, in a way he never had with Cho, or anyone. He'd been miserable and horrible when he'd come to the Burrow that summer, and it was her companionship more than anything else that had helped bring him back to normal. She wouldn't put up with his tantrums (for want of a better word), but she was still so sweet and understanding. And just now, she'd come to see him while he was injured and recuperating — admittedly, to yell at him at first, but...
Okay, Harry needed to stop thinking these things right now. Ginny had dated Michael Corner. She'd dated Dean — at least he thought she had, though he'd never once seen them together. But at any rate, it was just as Hermione had said last year: she was over him. There was no need for him to start falling for an uninterested girl. Even if there might be a tiny chance that she —
"Do you think I can't take care of myself?" Ginny's voice was quiet.
His train of thought momentarily derailed, Harry hastily said, "No! No, that's not it at all. I know you can defend yourself." For a moment Harry recalled the Bat-Bogey Hex Ron had described to him months ago, idly wishing he could have seen her cast it. "I just... well... I don't want you to have to."
"Oh." Ginny reddened slightly. "That's very chivalrous of you." She finally smiled, a radiant smile that eliminated Harry's remaining worries (but did nothing to alleviate his blush). "Well, I wish you hadn't done it, but... Thank you, even so."
Harry broke into a huge grin from sheer relief. "I think I gave Malfoy the idea anyway," he confessed. "I told him before the time-out that by the time he got the Snitch, you'd have put us 200 points ahead."
"You said that to him?" Ginny broke into furious giggling. "No wonder he looked so red!"
"Yeah, it was funny, but I'm really responsible for him —"
Ginny laughed again and shook her head. "Oh, honestly, you have such a nobility complex!"
"I do not have a 'nobility complex'!" Harry exclaimed — and winced, as he recalled Hermione's accusation that he had a 'saving-people thing.' "... Do I?" he asked tentatively.
"You do! You're so protective of everyone. Not that that's a terrible thing. I'm glad you care, Harry," she continued mischievously, "but I already get all that from my six brothers, so I really don't need a seventh."
"Well, it's not —" Harry blurted out before he thought. He felt blood rush to his face as Ginny looked at him questioningly. It was going to get him in deeper than he was, but... He groaned. If he didn't finish the bloody sentence, she'd drag it out of him anyway. "It's not... exactly... a, er, 'brotherly' sort of feeling."
"What do you mean by that?" Ginny asked.
"I mean... Well, I mean I don't think of you as a sister." He considered the thoughts he'd been having only minutes ago and laughed shortly. "Not at all, actually."
Ginny stared at him for a few seconds before giving a laugh that Harry thought sounded forced. "You make it sound like you have a crush on me or something!" she said lightly.
"No..." It wasn't a crush, was it? Harry had had a crush on Cho, last year (though it felt like centuries had passed since fifth year), and it didn't feel like that. These feelings were... bigger? Warmer? "Deeper," he finally decided.
"It's not a crush. It feels... deeper than that." Harry kept talking, haltingly, only partially aware that he was speaking aloud. "I... I like you, Ginny. I like you a lot. I mean, you're, you're pretty and smart and, well, you never let me act like an idiot, and you're just... just fun to be with. And I know you got over me a long time ago... but... I just..."
At this point Harry's brain caught up with his mouth. He had not meant to say that much. "Um," he concluded weakly, desiring nothing more than to curl up under his bedcovers and die.
Ginny stared at him, eyes as wide as he'd ever seen them and mouth hanging slightly open. He quickly looked away. "You... I..." she stammered. "You what? Do... do you mean that?"
Harry nodded, eyes locked to his knees and face rapidly heating up. After seeing her expression, he couldn't make himself look at her again.
"And you really thought I got over you?"
"Well, yeah. Hermione told me last year," Harry said, remembering the off-hand comment that he'd hardly cared about at the time. "After the Hog's Head. I mean, she said 'gave up', not 'got over', but that's the same thing, isn't it?"
"Not in the slightest! Harry..." She sniffled — Harry looked up and stopped breathing as he saw tears in her eyes, but she was smiling nonetheless. "I've loved you since we first met, and, well, I never stopped. What I gave up on was... was believing you might ever feel the same for me..."
Harry's heart suddenly felt feather-light in his chest. She loved him. She loved him. He was floating, flying, soaring... Tentatively, painfully slowly, he leaned forward and pulled Ginny into a hug. His chin rested in her hair, her face was buried in his robes, she was soft and warm in his arms, and nothing he could remember had ever felt so right.
His voice rough, Harry said, "Well... Well, I do now. And I'm only sorry I didn't figure it out any sooner than this."
Ginny smiled softly. "Oh, Harry, I wasn't ready for you back then. I didn't really start to see you as a regular person until the Yule Ball. I was so... so silly! Can you imagine if you'd asked me to the Ball? I'd have fainted, most likely," she giggled. Harry laughed at the image that produced: himself in a tuxedo with a bouquet of flowers, a swooning Ginny on the floor in front of him. "You were never that bad, Ginny."
"Oh, I was! I was horrible! Do you even remember that first summer you came to the Burrow?"
"I thought you were cute, actually. And all that blushing and clumsiness made me remember you." Harry grinned evilly and continued, "Every time I see a butter dish, I think of you."
"Harry!!" Ginny pounded on Harry's chest playfully, still held in his embrace. "Do you have any idea how embarrassing that was for me?"
"But no one even noticed!"
"You did. And to silly, star-struck Ginny Weasley, that was all that mattered."
Harry leaned back so that he could look into Ginny's eyes. "I've never thought you were silly," he whispered.
He could see her shining red hair, the freckles scattered across her nose and cheeks, her lips, slightly moist... And it felt completely natural to lean down and meet her lips with his.
The kiss was salty — a few of Ginny's tears of happiness had fallen. It was awkward — Harry had never actively participated in a kiss before, and he wasn't sure where his nose was supposed to go. It was clumsy — they weren't moving quite in unison, and their teeth clicked together once.
Despite all of this, Harry decided once he was capable of conscious thought again, the moment had been perfect. He mused, "Now I've got a good memory to replace the one of my other kiss."
"Mmmm," Ginny agreed. Then she looked up and stared at him in amazement.
"Wait... Does that mean... that was only your second kiss?"
"Uh, well, yeah, that's right..."
"So after that one kiss with Cho, you never kissed any other girl?"
"Well, no, I don't exactly — hang on." Harry pointed at Ginny accusingly. "Now, I know I never told you that little story..."
Ginny giggled, unashamed. "Hermione and I were... Well, you know girls and their girl talk."
Harry just groaned. "Honestly..."
"Oh, don't give me that, Harry. I'm the one who should be annoyed with you, if anything."
"Huh? How d'you figure that?"
Ginny poked him and replied, "You didn't have to pine after me for four years."
"Oh, is that all?" Harry laughed. "Well, if you want, we could forget all this happened and wait four more years before —"
"Ohhhh, no," Ginny said with a grin, tightening her arms around him. "I'm not letting you go now that I've got you."
Harry nodded, smiling uncontrollably. "Good. I don't think I could let you go if I tried."