"Thanks," Ginny said, raising her pint towards Ems. "I should hope so. People discount the Harpies, you know, because we're all girls, but we work bloody hard, and the bigger the blokes we play, the better it feels when we knock them down a peg. Some of those players are like a foot taller than me, no joke."
It was part of why she loved Quidditch so much. Size didn't matter so much, unless bruises were part of the score, and with some technique you could beat even the biggest brutes out there.
"I hope I'll get on the team anyway," she added. "Last time Lynch was knocked off the Irish team because he spent half the season out injured after knocking himself out a few times too many. He was good again for the World Cup, but... yeah. The coach had found someone else he favoured I guess."
"Sorry," she said, pulling a face. "Don't get me talking about Quidditch, I can go on about it all day. How are you? How's work?"