|yule_balls_mod (yule_balls_mod) wrote in hp_yule_balls,|
@ 2008-12-29 11:54:00
|Entry tags:||2008, character: ginny weasley, character: luna lovegood, fic, pairing: ginny/luna|
Fic: and it's tied together with a smile (Ginny/Luna, NC-17) for snoringolder
Title: and it's tied together with a smile (that you're coming undone)
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended. All characters engaging in sexual activity are 16 years or older.
Summary: Luna Lovegood is looking for Clawed Frogpies in the Holyhead Harpies goalposts. (Not a euphemism.)
Warnings: EWE, references to het.
Word Count: ~5300.
Author's Notes: Title from Taylor Swift’s song. Thanks muchly to my beta.
Ginny Weasley adjusted her right shin guard.
It was snowing outside. Of course it was. It was the middle of December, the week of the Harpies' last match of the year, and the entire town of Holyhead was covered in white — it wasn't knee-deep, it wasn't even foot-deep, but it was snow, anyway, iced water flakes, slippery and dangerous, and she knew for a fact that the schools had been closed.
It never really mattered to her, the schools being closed. Hogwarts was a castle; she didn't have to go to great lengths to get to her classes. It was one of those things; you lived with it.
Of course, living with it was a great deal better than living against it.
"You get the one day free," Gertie Hall, one of the beaters, was muttering to Ginny's right as she put on and buttoned up an extra-thick cape. "You get the one morning to spend with your boy, because his father has him on weekends, and you spend it training in the middle of a bloody winter wonderland for a sodding match that we're not even gonna win."
"That's the spirit", their Captain said mockingly, entering the dressing rooms at that precise moment. "I don't have to tell you again that if you think we are going to lose, we fucking well are going to lose."
The team groaned.
"Where is our pride?" she began, slowly raising her voice. "Where is our shame?"
"Where is our money?" Gertie whispered, and the Captain sent her a cold glare.
"Hall", the Captain said. Gertie straightened herself up.
"Go home with your kid", the Captain said, losing her facade. "We can win this match with our eyes closed."
Gertie took about .02 seconds to get her cape undone and Apparate home. She didn't even say goodbye, which wasn't new to Ginny; after all, Gertie could not wait to spend time with her little boy. A boy of seven years old who was the most adorable thing and sort of brought out Ginny's maternal instinct every time Gertie brought him to their matches.†
It interferred with her Quidditch a lot, nevertheless. Sometimes, Ginny thought that perhaps she would like to have a child, too. Her relationship with Harry would have turned out like that; a whole army of little kids to compensate for Harry's lost childhood and make her mother happy.
They were almost married, too, and Ginny sometimes wallowed in the misery of having had their compromise announced and broken within a month, but it had been a fair few years ago, now, and she shouldn't. She didn't feel pain over it anymore. It had been a mutual decision — the kind of mutual decision stable people took, Ginny had thought with a pang of pride at the time, for being so mature, for keeping herself in check at the tender age of twenty — and it made sense. Being in common space, fighting Death Eaters together, Harry so close to her family — surely the closeness had brought on many of their feelings, and perhaps the celebrity crush — perhaps they ought to give themselves a break and think about it for a while, think about what they really had, what they really felt for each other, regardless of wars and protectiveness and following the course of things.†
Ron and Hermione had married, and Ginny had thought perhaps Harry would come to his senses, being best man and maid of honour, obviously belonging to the same table at the reception; to make conversation and kiss as was traditional— but Harry had showed up with a date, some blonde girl from his year at Hogwarts whose name Ginny couldn't remember, and Ginny had left sooner than was expected of her.†Hermione had been worried about her, and if she hadn't been so certain that she was going to start crying†in the middle of Harry's toast, Ginny would not have excused herself at all.
Hermione's mother had gone over to their kitchen and reached out to hug her. It was odd that a Muggle woman had been Ginny's shoulder to cry on over the loss of whom she had thought to be her future husband, at Hermione's wedding of all places, but so things happened, and so life happened, and it could not be changed.
She'd taken the Quidditch position the next day. The Harpies had been bugging her about how it was all meant to be — her being called Ginevra and their having recently lost a Seeker to motherhood, and it all came down to the same thing — and Ginny had decided that Quidditch would take her mind off things.
Only she was extremely good at it, now, had got much better than she used to be, and she thought on her broom more than she thought on her feet. At any rate, she was still there, in the town of Holyhead, which was covered in snow, and school had been suspended, and it was four years later, and she was happy.
A hand tapping on her shoulder snapped her out of her train of thoughts.
"Yes?" she asked, and turned back to see Gabby Myles smiling up at her.
"We're heading out for a pint and an ego boost, want to come?"
Ginny realised that the dressing room had practically cleared out. Her teammates did certainly not waste time on any aspect of their lives. Perhaps she should start asking them for advice.
"Sure", Ginny said, taking off her right shin guard.