The number of people who had direct access to her Floo -- without hacking into the Floo Network or taking advantage of confidential access in the Floo Network Authority -- were limited to her family, close friends, her teammates and her publicist, so when she got the alert that someone had arrived, she wasn’t worried. She took her time coming downstairs from her loft, still towel-drying her hair, assuming that if there were some sort of crisis, someone would have warned her first.
Despite knowing she had access, Greer hadn’t expected to see Ginny standing in the middle of her living room. Puzzled, she paused on the last step. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”
Pale face streaked with tears, Ginny had followed instinct when she stepped into the Floo with a bag of her belongings and grit out the first place she should think of. Greer. When her friend appeared, she suddenly realized she was half-afraid to speak. She didn’t think she’d ever shouted so vehemently. She didn’t think she’d ever been so angry.
And now, she certainly wasn’t sure if she could trust her voice. She gripped the straps of her satchel tightly and took a deep breath.
“I left Harry. I … I could go back to the Burrow. But I can’t. I don’t have anywhere else.”
Greer hadn’t noticed how distraught Ginny looked at first, but it was readily apparent as soon as she had half a second more to look at the younger woman. When Ginny spoke, all of the puzzle pieces slid into place. She dropped the towel on the stairs and crossed the room to her teammate.
“Hey.” Greer put her hands on Ginny’s shoulders and looked at her with a serious expression. “You can stay here as long as you need. Okay?”
Ginny decided, in that moment, she wouldn’t cry again. She would be strong. After all, it had been her choice to put herself first when Harry had made his actions and words match one another. She nodded. “That’s what I hoped you’d say.”
A pause. “ … you were the first place I thought to go. Thank you.”
Part of being Captain of a team, from Greer’s perspective, was always having an open door to her teammates. Part of being a good teammate meant that in general, but as Captain, Greer felt that it was her particular responsibility to look after everyone. If someone needed help, she would be there. She felt sure that the team was stronger because of it.
“It’s what I’m here for,” Greer answered, brushing off the thank you with a wave of her hand. “Do you want a drink? Or we can put you right in the bath to relax - the other bathrooms are fine but my bathtub’s enormous.”
“I want a drink. Something strong.” Ginny looked around the familiar flat, focusing in on Greer’s open and comforting face. She took a deep breath and walked forward to sit at the kitchen table. “I don’t want to be alone, even in your gigantic bathtub.”
“Fair enough.”
A break-up like this one, Greer thought as she headed for her liquor cabinet, called for something straightforward, something unlike what she imagined the relationship had been like. Her own experiences didn’t give her a lot to go on; she was usually out the door by the sixth month, bored and restless and feeling adrift. This -- someone who had been part of Ginny’s life for so long -- was really out of Greer’s area of expertise.
She poured two glasses of a 26 year aged scotch and brought one to Ginny. “I don’t share this one with just anyone,” Greer said, “but it feels like the right time.”
Ginny’s eyes widened and she slowly smelled the liquid in the glass, before smiling her thanks to Greer. “Shall we toast?” She lifted her glass and put her hand on one hip. “I think we shall!”
A pause. “To freedom; to caring about oneself; to giving oneself time …”
Greer squinted at Ginny over the edge of her own glass, a hint of a smile on her lips. Eventually, she’d remind Ginny that it was okay to care about other people, too, but now was not that moment. She knew that in this moment, Ginny needed to learn to put herself first again.
“To the future,” Greer added, lifting her own glass to meet Ginny’s. “To following your dreams and not someone else’s.”
Ginny clinked her glass against Greer’s then took a generous swallow of the scotch. She sputtered, grasping her throat before she looked up and smiled. “Merlin, did I just turn into a Welsh Green for a moment there? Because that was serious hot … while also smooth. Which is what I think a dragon must feel breathing fire. It’s natural, but it’s a lot.” A snort.
“I think I just described myself.”
“Serious hot?” Greer teased, and then she took her own swig - slowly, savoring the flavours. She probably should’ve warned Ginny to take it easy with the scotch, but the aftermath was amusing and Greer couldn’t say she had any regrets. “Or natural, but a lot? I can’t tell.”
“All of the above?” she suggested, waggling her eyebrows for effect. The liquid coursed through her and as she took another sip, she sat at Greer’s table and leaned her elbows on the top to rest her chin in her palms.
“So, I’m a single lady. This is new. How are you doing?”
“You’ll get used to it.” It’d take some time, but Greer knew that Ginny would land on her feet just fine. Ginny was tough -- stronger than a lot of people gave her credit for. She’d be just fine.
Greer pulled out a chair next to Ginny’s and sat down. “I’m wondering if I should’ve gotten some take-away so we’d have some greasy food to gorge ourselves on, that’s how I’m doing.” She had a feeling Ginny was asking more to change the subject than anything else, but if that was what she needed, Greer wasn’t going to push. “Fine otherwise. Was probably just going to spend tonight going over new plays and reviewing our opponents’ matches last year. Very exciting stuff.”
“ … we could always order burgers? I feel like I owe you that much for rolling up with all the baggage I’ve brought,” she said in what she hoped to be a perfectly reasonable tone. “Like, the burgers are on me. Now that I’ve shot your really nice Scotch.” A pause. She learned forward, transferring her weight from her chin to her cheek.
“Then, we can strategise on the plays together. Because when we go to the World Cup, we’re bloody well beating everyone.”
“You honestly don’t owe me anything,” Greer insisted, “and you can stay as long as you need. Baggage or no baggage.” Burgers did sound like the perfect post-break up food, however, even if they’d probably regret it the next day.
With a wave of her wand, several take-away menus flew to Greer’s hand, and she set them out on the table in front of Ginny. “Your pick. And you’re damn right we’ll beat everyone. There’s quite literally no other option.” Greer wasn’t going to make it all the way to the tournament only to get knocked out again. “And if you want to talk about what happened -- or not -- I’m all ears.”
“Biggest burger?” she said, scouring the menu for something appropriately greasy. A garbage burger picked up and she tapped the menu. “That. I want everything and the kitchen sink.” Greer’s last statement gave her pause; she wasn’t wrong. She would have to stare this in the face eventually. She might as well rip the band-aid off with friends and greasy food on the way.
“Harry’s been tracking down a cabal of Dark wizards in Shoreditch. I’ve been excited about our first year and how well it’s been going. I invited him out, got the box seats, and all. He told me he didn’t have time, couldn’t believe I asked. He then proceeded to state that my job is less important than his job and I ought to know better than to distract him from his all important task of catching Dark bloody wizards.” She shrugged. “That was all about a week ago. He came home tonight, we talked about it more, and I left. His mind wasn’t changing.”
“Merlin.” Greer pressed her lips together, biting back the words of her thoughts. It wasn’t surprising, from what little she knew of the Boy Saviour. Well, the part about Ginny’s job being less important was surprising, but in Greer’s experience, a lot of people who became Aurors ended up being self-important and single-minded. There was an entire world out there; if Harry wasn’t careful, he was going to miss all of it, and then what would it have all been for?
“Anyone who’d make you feel like that is a piece of rotten shite,” Greer stated, “and you were right to leave someone who wasn’t making time for something that means a lot to you.”
It agitated Ginny to think about Harry hyper-focused on catching Dark Wizards; there was a modicum of fatalism in his actions, she knew. And she also knew she had to learn to stop loving him. There were too many years to just turn the switch off. But Greer was right. She knew that she deserved someone’s attention. She deserved to be primary in someone’s life.
“He didn’t … he wasn’t like that. Always. It’s shocking when people start to be unrecognisable. I think one day he just decided not to care, because I would always be around.”
Greer felt for Ginny. She’d found that same behaviour mirrored in some Quidditch players, who got a taste of fame and started assuming everyone would stick around even if they weren’t showing up for anyone else. Money wasn’t enough to sustain relationships, and it wasn’t too much to ask someone to meet you halfway.
Her voice was a little softer and more gentle. “He took you for granted.”
Ginny nodded. Greer was right and she was determined not to let it wound her. She meant to be logical about losing Harry. After all, it was done in service of herself. She meant to be true to her need for independence.
“My mum will be disappointed. I think she always wanted the official Potter-Weasley connection. Suppose now she’ll have to hope he catches Percy or Charlie’s eye.”
“Ah, she’ll survive,” Greer scoffed, waving a hand as if to dismiss Molly Weasley’s desires. “Potter’s always going to be part of your family in some fashion, officially or not.” After everything Harry had been through with the assorted extended family, there was no possible way that a fractured relationship with Ginny would take all of that away. “Besides, your happiness is the most important thing in the long run.”
She smiled. Greer had a way of taking her concerns and making them feel manageable. This was her gift on and off the pitch. She took a gentle sip of the remaining scotch and let the warmth coat her veins.
“Um well, I thought that was the Quidditch World Cup!”
Greer laughed. “Well, that’s going to bring you happiness, so --” She grinned and raised her glass again. “Here’s to the most important things in life.”