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Author: Thekillerpie Story: Life After the Old Rating: Young Teens Status: WIP Reviews: 7 Words: 6,904
After the match, Harry, Ron and Ginny Apparated to Harry’s flat in the centre of Birmingham. Ron was still ecstatic about the win, and spent an entire evening telling Harry and Ginny how wrong they were to doubt the Cannons all this time. “…and that goal during the 3rd hour! That was just amazing! The skill on the team now is just second to none…except possibly England,” Ron said for the fifth time that evening. “All those years that I was supporting them and you mocking me!” “Yes we know, Ron. But thanks for rubbing it in,” said Ginny, impatience showing in her voice. “You’ve certainly got a lot of stuff to put into your Tactics article tomorrow,” said Harry. “Yeah, I know! That catch that Gudgeon did! And the Wronski Feint! The Falcons chaser formations went well, too,” Ron said, recalling the game. “Certainly some top flying there by both sides, I think,” said Ginny. “Yeah…well, I’d better go. Hermione’s probably wondering what happened,” said Ron, getting up from the sofa. “Thank God,” Ginny said to herself. “Sorry?” said Ron, glancing over at her. “I said ‘shame’,” said Ginny, winking at Harry, who smirked. “Well, mate, nice to see you,” said Ron. “Yeah. See you at the office on Monday,” said Harry. “Bye, Ron,” said Ginny, getting up and hugging her brother. “Bye, sis,” said Ron, waving at Harry, then he Apparated out of the room. “Drink?” said Harry. “What’ve you got?” she replied. “Er, lets just have a look…” said Harry. “You shouldn’t offer something that you haven’t got Harry…very bad hosting skills,” Ginny said in her best motherly telling off tone. “Okay, I have Baileys, and whatever this stuff is,” said Harry, pointing to a green glass bottle. “That’s Ogdens Firewhiskey…cant you tell by the shape of the bottle?” said Ginny. “Nope…but that must be what happened to my birthday present from Ron…” Harry said, warily eying the bottle. “I’m okay for a drink then,” said Ginny. “Sorry…” said Harry, walking back over to the sofa where they sat together, listening to the sounds of the city die away. Eventually, Ginny made to leave. They said their good nights, and kissed. Ginny Apparated away from Harry’s flat, leaving him alone in the living room. Harry cleaned the room with a spell, and walked through to the kitchen where he drank a glass of water. He set the glass down on the table and said to himself: “Right. I’m going to do it tomorrow.” With that, he walked through to his bedroom and went to sleep. ~#~ The next dawned bright and sunny. It was a Sunday. The day after the match and another late night meant that Harry stayed in bed until at least 10 o’clock. After deciding to finally propose to Ginny the night before, he had decided to go and find a suitable ring, then go and ask Arthur Weasley about his plan. Naturally, he was nervous, and felt strange about the prospect of asking his near father for his daughter’s hand in marriage. “Wonder how Ron did it,” Harry thought, as he ate his breakfast. He was mulling over where to go to purchase the ring, when post Owl flew in with the Daily Prophet and the Sunday Times. The Muggle paper was delivered by Owl on Sundays to all Wizarding families in the country. This was part of the new policies instituted by the Ministry of Magic to increase Muggle integration. Under the headline “Cannons smash the Falcons in Comeback” there was a photograph of the Chudley Cannons celebrating, waving and dancing. Then followed the article Harry had written the day before. Harry finished his bowl of cereal, and got up. He shaved, then got dressed into pale Chino trousers and a blue checked shirt. He concealed his wand up his right sleeve as usual, and left his flat. Harry had never really shopped in Birmingham, and he made his way around the Bullring Shopping Centre wondering how the Muggles managed to invent such a place without magic. “We should give them more credit,” though Harry, walking into a very strange looking building that housed a department store. After not much luck in the muggle world, Harry decided to head off to London, and Diagon Alley. He walked back to his flat, where he could Apparate without fear of being seen by cameras, or people. ~#~ “Mr Potter! How about that game, eh? Quite something!” said Tom the barkeeper. “Was something, wasn’t it?” said Harry, sitting up at the bar while Tom poured him some tea. “Did you see it?” “Was listening on the wireless. Had it on in here yesterday,” he said, taking the money that Harry handed him for the tea. “So what brings you to London?” “Shopping,” Harry said, taking a first cautious sip from the tea. “Like the most of people. You know, Quidditch Supplies have already run out of Cannons’ replica robes. There’s been a huge wave of support for them,” Tom said, moving around behind the bar, preparing a drink for another customer. “To be honest, I’m not surprised. The Cannons deserve a win after all this time,” said Harry. “Talking about the game?” said a new voice next to Harry. “Yes. What can I get you?” said Tom to the newcomer. “Just a coffee, thanks,” he asked. “Of course,” said Tom, moving down the bar once again. The newcomer turned to Harry. “Who were you supporting then?” he asked Harry. “You can’t support any one team when you’re a sports writer. Makes the articles biased,” Harry said finishing off his tea. “Ah sports journalist, eh? Interesting job that must be. Who do you work for?” he asked. “The Daily Prophet. I’m their Sports Correspondent,” said Harry. “Ah, so you must be Harry Potter?” said the man. “That’s right,” said Harry. “Michael Jarvis. Good to meet you Mr Potter. I actually work for Firebolt Brooms. I believe you had one of the first we ever made?” said Mr Jarvis. “Yes, that’s right. My Godfather bought it for me. I still have it, and use it to this day,” said Harry, interested in meeting a man who worked for Firebolt. “I was on the design team for the first prototype broom that we made. I helped on the assembly of the first actual production Firebolt. I was in charge of checking everything worked correctly before they were sent out. I remember yours, in fact, Mr Potter. Well, I assume it was yours, because it was ordered by a Mr Crookshanks, money to be taken from the account of one Sirius Black, and delivered to Harry Potter,” he mused “I remember thinking that was odd.” “Mr Crookshanks was my friend’s cat. I think Sirius asked the cat to take the order to the post office,” said Harry. “Well, certainly good to meet you at last, Mr Potter. I assume you’ve had no trouble with the broom?” asked Mr Jarvis. “None whatsoever. It’s been perfect. A little old now, but it still surpasses some of the newly released brooms from Cleansweep and Nimbus,” said Harry “You should talk to my friend, Ron Weasley.” “The tactician and Keeper? He recommended the specialist Keeper range of Firebolts to several teams,” said Mr Jarvis. “Well, I must be going. Nice to meet you, Mr Jarvis,” said Harry, rising from his seat, and putting the correct amount of coins on the bar. “A pleasure, Mr Potter. Maybe we shall meet soon? You must come to the Firebolt offices sometime and witness the production first hand,” said Mr Jarvis, standing to shake Harry’s hand. “I may well take up the invitation,” said Harry, shaking his hand. “Thanks, Tom.” “Have a good day, Mr Potter,” said Tom. Harry walked out of the pub and into the small courtyard behind. He did the tapping the bricks routine, and the gateway to Diagon Alley opened up. It had been a while since Harry had been to Diagon Alley, and he reflected as he walked through it that hardly anything had changed since he had first come here with Hagrid. Knowing Ginny’s tastes, Harry was going to go for a plain and simple engagement ring. He knew that she only got embarrassed when given extravagant gifts, so had learnt just to keep things simple. In the past, he had bought her a plain silver chain necklace with an emerald stone. That had been for her eighteenth birthday, and as far as he knew, she had not taken it off since he had given it to her. Harry wandered around the shops, looking at books, quills and parchment, and of course, Quality Quidditch Supplies, where there was a poster with his report of the game printed on it, showing the same headline as the newspaper from that morning. He eventually came to the shop that he had only entered twice before, once with Ginny and once without. It was in the shadow of the tall Gringotts Bank. The sign above the door said, “Joplin’s – Fine Jewellers since 1098”. It was one of two Jewellers on Diagon Alley, and the only one so far that Harry had visited. “Good Morning,” said the voice of Mr James Joplin as Harry entered the shop. “Morning,” said Harry, looking around at the cases of rings, ear rings, watches and other such trinkets. “Well now. What can I do for you?” asked Mr Joplin. “I’m looking for an engagement ring,” said Harry proudly. “Ah. So. You will be wanting to have a look at this cabinet here,” he said, motioning Harry to a glass cabinet that was layered with rings of all kinds. “These are some of our finest rings in this cabinet. We take pride in our wedding and engagement rings.” “I’m looking for a simple ring really. My girlfriend likes less elaborate designs,” Harry said, looking at the display with awe at the beauty of some of the rings. “In that case, may I direct you towards this shelf here?” said Mr Joplin, pointing towards the middle shelf of the display cabinet. It had around twenty rings on it, all intricately engraved, with no jewels set in. They were just the kind of thing that Ginny would take to, Harry thought to himself. “May I have a closer look at the silver one there with the helix engraving?” asked Harry. “But of course. The ring is Moroccan in origin, and was made in the Souks of Marrakech by my brother. A fine jeweller,” said Mr Joplin, waving his wand, and the desired ring came out of the cabinet. The metal was fairly thin, and was slightly less than half a centimetre wide. “How much would that be?” Harry asked “Three hundred and twenty-eight galleons,” said the shop keeper, taking the ring from Harry and examining it. “I think I’ll take it then,” said Harry, suddenly realising what he was doing, and getting a wave of nerves. Harry paid for the ring, and placed it in his pocket. He walked out of the shop and into the warm July air. He apparated away from Diagon Alley and went straight to the Burrow. ~#~ “My goodness, Harry, you did give me shock!” said Molly Weasley, who was preparing sandwiches in the Kitchen. “I’m sorry, Mrs Weasley,” he said looking around the kitchen to see Arthur sitting at the kitchen table, reading the paper and chuckling. “That’s quite alright, Harry,” she said “Now, what can we do for you?” “I was wondering if I could speak to Mr Weasley in private for a few moments,” he said. “But of course,” said Mr Weasley, putting the paper down on the table. “Shall we go into the living room then?” “Okay,” said Harry, following Mr Weasley into the living room, and shutting the door behind him. “Now then. What would you like to talk to me about?” asked Mr Weasley, motioning Harry to sit in the arm chair opposite. “Well, I’ve just been into London,” said Harry, remaining on his feet. “And I bought a little something for Ginny.” “Oh right. Well, what would this be then?” Mr Weasley said, cottoning to what was happening by the look of sheer nervousness on Harry’s face. “This,” Harry said simply, removing the boxed ring from his pocket, and showing it to Mr Weasley. “My, that’s a wonderful ring, Harry,” he said “But why are you showing me?” “Well it’s an engagement ring, and I’d like to give it to Ginny,” said Harry. “Are you asking me for my daughter’s hand in marriage?” asked Mr Weasley, starting to smile. “Yes, I believe I am,” said Harry calmly. “I wish you the best of luck together,” said Mr Weasley, handing the ring back to Harry. “Thank you,” said Harry, smiling. Mr Weasley got up and shook Harry’s hand. Mr Weasley sat back down in the living room with a newspaper and began to read. Harry made his way back out into the kitchen. Molly had disappeared into the garden. There was a plate on the table piled with sandwiches and a note saying: ‘Take as many as you would like, Harry’. Harry formulated another plan in his mind. It was now just gone 2 o’clock. “Well might as well get it all over and done with today,” he said to himself. He piled some sandwiches into a shoulder bag, and went to find Ginny. An Author’s Note: Thanks to my beta Jen for her wonderful comma insertions! My stories would be commaless without them! Thank you all for your patience, I’ve just started University, so I’ve been busy settling in and getting down to work! Now everything’s settled down a bit, I can turn my mind to more important things: fan fiction!
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