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Christmas Day 1998
Ginny stared out the window, watching the snow fall over the grounds. It seemed everyone was up and about. Fred and George were throwing snowballs at Lee and Angelina. Katie, Oliver, Emmy and Alicia were engaged in two on two game of ice hockey. Lavender and Parvati were making snow angels while Dean and Seamus snapped pictures with a snowman.
Ginny’s eyes lingered on Ron and Hermione, who were huddled up in a blanket, whispering and laughing with each other, and a string of jealousy coiled at the pit of her stomach. She sighed. She was happy for them, really. She just wished she could have it too. With him. And after years of convincing herself that even if they never got together, at least they would be friends, the past few months had been quite depressing.
It had been almost six months since she’d last seen Harry. Hermione had tried to convince her to mend bridges and give him a proper goodbye, but she’d been too caught up in her fury to listen, something she regretted now. She hated how they’d left things. The ghost of a smile flitted across her face as she remembered the day they’d met.
Sept 1, 1991
“It’s not fair that girls don’t get to play until next year,” Ginny pouted watching the boys’ football game with the neighbouring school.
“Then let’s come back next year,” Hermione begged, flinching each time the ball headed remotely in their direction.
“I want to join the cheer squad,” Lavender sighed.
“I just want to get away,” Parvati shrieked as the ball landed in a puddle, effectively splashing her with the dirty water.
“Stonewall sucks!” Ginny yelled as Hogwarts scored.
“I think they’re cute,” Lavender giggled.
“They all smell,” Hermione said disgustedly.
“Ron! Hey, Ron!” Ginny shouted when he came to stand near them. “Aren’t you playing?”
“Coach told me to sit this one out,” He said glumly.
“It’s okay, Ron, I’m sure they’ll pick you for the next one,” Hermione comforted, standing remarkably close to him for someone who had just said the lot of them smelled.
“He cheated!” Parvati exclaimed, pointing at a fat Stonewall player who had kicked Ernie Macmillian.
“That’s a foul! That jerk!” Ginny glared.
“That’s Dudley Dursley. He makes at least three fouls a game. He’s only on the team because his aunt is the Principal,” Ron said heatedly. “Even Malfoy’s better than him.”
He must be a nasty piece of work, Ginny thought, if Ron hated him more than he hated Draco Malfoy.
“Malfoy fouled too,” Parvati said. “That Polkiss boy is injured.”
“He’s always embarrassing our school!” Hermione huffed.
“Who’s that?” Ginny asked as a messy-haired, scrawny boy replaced Polkiss on the field.
“He’s Dursley’s cousin,” Ron answered. “Rarely plays. Don’t know why. He’s the best out of them, but he’s only a reserve.”
“He just scored. Now they’re ahead!” Lavender cried.
“And the time is almost up,” Parvati said, disappointed.
“Then let’s go. Why should we watch a losing game?” Hermione pleaded.
“Are you leaving?” Ron asked, face falling.
Hermione looked reluctant but stayed put.
“Ten seconds,” Ginny muttered. “Come on, Hogwarts!”
But of course, Malfoy was too selfish to let someone else have a chance and lost them the game.
“No! Why is that git still on the team?” Ginny fumed.
“You suck, Malfoy!” Ron glared.
“That’s it! I’m leaving!” Hermione cried as the players started swarming in their direction. Lavender and Parvati followed her, and Ron joined his teammates.
Ginny hung back. She had always wanted to play in a real field rather than the Burrow’s muddy backyard, and this could be her chance. Once they left, Ginny snuck into the Sports room to get the ball, only to find the scrawny boy idly kicking it. Ginny really wanted to hate him. He had stolen their victory after all, but he looked so miserable that she felt bad for intruding. His eyes snapped to her at her approaching footsteps, and he stilled.
“Congrats on your win,” Ginny said, breaking the silence.
“Thanks,” He replied, not sounding particularly happy about it.
“You played very well,” She said, and she meant it.
He looked genuinely surprised and gave her a shy smile.
“Do you want to play with me?” She asked spontaneously, regretting the words as soon as they left her mouth. Her brothers always made fun of her whenever she asked to join them.
“Okay,” He said, and it was her turn to be surprised. She felt a giddy excitement as they raced back to the field.
“I’ll play for Hogwarts, and you can play for Stonewall,” She announced and kicked the ball. What started as a quiet little game soon turned into a silly, fun one as they alternated between yelling and giggling.
“I win!” Ginny declared, standing inside the Stonewall goalpost, the ball firmly below her foot.
“No, you didn’t!”
“Yes, I did!”
“You can’t just stand inside unless you’re the goalkeeper,” He laughed.
“I don’t like being a goalkeeper,” She wrinkled her nose. “My brother does, though.”
“Weasley, isn’t it?” He asked, and she realised they had skipped introductions.
“Yes, I’m Ginny,” She grinned.
“Harry Potter,” He smiled back, looking much happier than before.
“Why don’t you play more often, Harry?” She asked curiously.
His smile dropped a little. “My cousin and I don’t work well together.”
“Well, they ought to kick him out and put you on the team,” Ginny said vehemently.
“He’s so stupid I don’t think he’d even know the difference,” Harry said, looking extremely pleased by her statement.
“He looks like a pig,” Ginny giggled.
“And acts like one. He always makes a mess, and I have to clean up after him,” He added, making a face.
“Why would you clean up after him?” She frowned.
“I live with them,” He said awkwardly.
“What about your parents?”
“They died when I was a baby,” He murmured.
Ginny felt awful. She shouldn’t have asked that, but in her defence, it was a Weasley trait to put your foot in your mouth.
“Do you want to play another game?” She asked, and he looked relieved at the change of subject.
It was almost nightfall by the time they stopped. Ron had come back to search for her, and in her haste, she’d kicked the ball too hard and lost it in one of the ditches. She waved at Harry as she left, hoping to see him again soon.
To be honest, Harry thought that was the end of it, but after the next game, they both hung back and were pleasantly surprised to find the other waiting for them. From then on, it became a sort of unspoken tradition, to wait for each other after games. This became more and more frequent once Ginny made the girls’ team.
Christmas Eve, 1997
“Where are you going all dressed up?” Her friend, Emmy, asked.
“Nowhere,” Ginny replied shortly. She didn’t particularly want to tell anyone about their little escapades. These were their special moments.
“Are you going to meet your football friend again?” Hermione asked slyly.
“Shut up, Herms,” She scowled.
“Ooh, who’s that?” Emmy asked excitedly. “I thought I was your only football friend.”
“She plays with one of Stonewall’s players after one of their games,” Hermione said, amused.
Emmy’s eyebrows shot up.
“Please tell me it’s not that pig Dudders.”
“It’s his cousin, actually,” Hermione said before Ginny could get a word in.
“Oh, him. He’s all right. Bit of a shy sort, I think.”
“Maybe it’s because you don’t make an effort to talk to him,” Ginny said, a bit hotly.
“Looks like somebody’s got a little crush,” Emmy teased.
“He’s just my friend,” Ginny protested, though she knew it was useless.
“Oh, please, Ginny. You didn’t even have a match today. You’re going just to spend time with him,” Hermione rolled her eyes.
“Because he’s my friend!”
“You saved your money for months to buy his Christmas present. People don’t do that for ‘just friends’.”
“He needs new training shoes, and his pathetic excuse for a family can’t be bothered. It’s called helping someone out,” Ginny stood her ground. “Besides, it’s a bit rich coming from you. You spent years making my brother a scrapbook, and you’re too scared to even give it to him.”
Hermione coloured immediately. “That’s-That’s not- I don’t-It’s not my fault he’s dating Lavender!” She finally exclaimed.
“Parvati told me they broke up,” Emmy piped up. “Lavender’s quite cut up about it, but I think she knew it was coming for a long time.”
“What’s your excuse now?” Ginny demanded.
“I should give him time. They just broke up,” Hermione said weakly.
Ginny shared an exasperated glance with Emmy before adjusting her scarf and picking up the poorly wrapped present.
“I’ll see you later.”
He was already waiting for her in the part of the field they had dubbed “theirs”, looking unfairly handsome, for someone in Dudley’s ugly maroon sweater, which was five sizes too large for him. He also had a present tucked underneath his arm, and Ginny was pleased to note that his wrapping skills were just as bad as hers.
Harry turned towards her and looked taken aback. She knew this was the first time he was seeing her in something other than ugly jerseys and felt utterly self-conscious. The clothes she’d borrowed from Lavender were very much not her style, and as much as she hated to admit Hermione was right, this was the closest thing to a date they’d ever had, and Ginny was secretly hoping it would end like one of her fantasies.
“Hi,” She smiled.
He blinked as though snapping out a daze and smiled back.
“Hi.”
“A bit outside the norm,” Ginny commented, for the lack of anything better to say.
“You’re the one who said I owed you hot chocolate,” Harry reminded her.
“Only because you did. I lost count of how many hot chocolates I had to buy because I got sick after our last game.”
“And I’m the one who forced you to stay?” He asked, amused.
“Yes,” She nodded with a straight face. “If you weren’t too much of a prat to admit defeat-”
“I did! But then you said you wanted to beat me five times in a row!”
“A reasonable goal,” Ginny shrugged.
“I’ll admit you play better than me, but I know I’m not that bad,” Harry grinned, narrowing his eyes.
“Whatever lets you sleep at night,” She said cheekily. Her heart fluttered as he laughed. It was incredible how they could fall right into that easy rapport.
“How you don’t end up like a female Dudders, I’ll never know,” Harry said, amazed as she drowned her fourth cup of hot chocolate.
“Haven’t you heard it’s rude to insult a woman’s weight, Potter?” Ginny asked, crossing her arms.
“Not when the said woman wants to be in the national league,” He retorted. “Although you don’t look very womanly.”
She reared back, hurt, and bit out. “I suppose you think being a footballer means I have to be all tomboyish all the time.”
“What? No!” He sputtered, looking horrified. “I meant you don’t look womanly today!”
She cocked an eyebrow, adjusting the decidedly feminine jacket to make a point.
“I mean-” He grimaced. “I’m not getting this right.”
“You don’t say.”
“I meant to say that you look very...well, for lack of a better word, girlish. Not that there’s anything wrong with that,” He added hurriedly. “I just think your after game jersey look is much more womanly,” He finished, flushing.
Ginny’s lips twitched. “You think that my sweaty, too large, jersey is better than the Head Cheerleader’s perfect outfit?”
“In my defence,” He said sheepishly. “You look like you want to rip that jacket by the way you’re shredding the edges.”
Ginny immediately let go of the large piece of string she’d removed. Her brother’s ex-girlfriend was going to kill her.
“And it’s not the jersey that looks good,” Harry went on. “It’s the look you get when you wear it. You look like you’re having the time of your life, like there’s nowhere else you’d rather be than the field.”
Her heartbeat wildly against her chest. It wasn’t football that brought that look in her as much as the boy opposite her.
“I want to give you your Christmas present now,” She said, before she could start sprouting out the extremely embarrassing poem she’d written for him one Valentine’s Day, that she was eternally grateful she’d destroyed before Hermione, Emmy or God forbid, Ron got their hands on it.
“Okay,” He looked surprised by the change of subject and looked at her hesitantly. “You’re not mad at me, are you?”
“No, of course not!” She said, and her heart warmed at the relief that flooded his face at her words. “I just don’t want to carry it all the way back.” She passed the present across the table.
He opened it carefully, though she’d already ripped the paper with her disastrous wrapping, and froze.
“The shoes,” He murmured. “But they cost… Ginny, I can’t accept this,” He said, looking up with wide eyes.
“Yes, you can. It wasn’t any trouble,” Understatement of the year. “And how on earth can you hope to get into a good college team with the ones you use now?”
He looked at her intensely, as if on the verge of saying something. Ginny thought she saw a flash of guilt pass his face, but it was gone as soon as it came.
“Thank you,” He said quietly, swallowing hard.
“You’re welcome,” She smiled. “Now, where’s my present?”
Harry looked supremely uncomfortable, and for the first time, Ginny questioned if she’d done the right thing by suggesting exchanging gifts. She could have found some other way to give him the shoes. She definitely didn’t want him feeling that he had to give her something as expensive.
“It’s stupid,” Harry muttered, fiddling with the oddly shaped gift. “I thought- it’s not nearly as good as yours-”
“Harry,” She laid a hand on his. “I’d love whatever you got me.”
He looked unconvinced but handed it over.
She ripped apart the wrapping, and a football fell into her lap. Why on earth would he think she wouldn’t like it? It was a football, and she liked everything about football. She was just about to tell him so when something caught her eye. On one side, on permanent marker, was written Sept 1, 1991.
“Our first game,” She breathed. “This is the ball from our first game.”
“Yes,” He said tensely.
“But how? We lost it!” She asked in disbelief.
“After you left, I searched for it and found it in one of the ditches,” He said, not meeting her eyes.
“And you kept it? All these years?” She whispered.
“It was the first time I felt like I had a friend. I wanted something to remember you by,” He admitted quietly.
At that moment, there was nothing Ginny would have liked more than to throw herself over the table and kiss the wonderful boy in front of her. And she’d have done just that if he hadn’t abruptly decided it was time to leave by making some useless excuse about ‘aunts and snow shovelling’.
June 31 1998
“Still pining from afar, huh?” Emmy asked as they split away from the celebration. Harry had played well, but Hogwarts had won in the end because of Dudley’s several fouls and Malfoy’s surprising turnabout to be less of a douchebag.
“This is the last time,” Ginny said tightly, not even trying to deny it. The football that had taken permanent residence on her bedside table said it all. “I’m never going to see him again.”
“Come on, that’s not true. It’s not like he’s going to disappear.”
Emmy was right, but somehow Ginny felt like this would be goodbye.
“Why can’t you just tell him? Even Hermione told Ron.”
Ginny looked over to her brother and best friend who were engaged in a very public display of affection.
“It’s not the same,” She sighed. “I’m not sure he even likes me that way.”
Emmy looked at her like she was in over her head. “The guy spent a whole night searching for a memento of you, kept it safe for almost seven years, and gave it to you as a Christmas present. Now, I may be hopeless at this crap, but if that isn’t love, I don’t know what is!”
Ginny desperately wanted to believe her, but she couldn’t help but feel that for whatever reason, Harry kept her at a distance, no matter how many times she tried to worm her way closer. She found him waiting for her, as always, and stopped.
“Now, you better be thoroughly snogged out when you get back,” Emmy grinned, giving her a thumbs up. Ginny rolled her eyes and made her way over to him.
“Not too disappointed, I hope,” She said, gesturing to the roaring party on the Hogwarts side of the field.
“No, nothing that gets Dudders acting like a pufferfish can be bad,” Harry smirked, and Ginny snorted as she saw Dudley and his father looking very purple while his mother simpered over them.
“Well, next year, you can be on the winning team with us and watch him explode when you join Hogwarts Academy,” Ginny said, referring to the college.
Harry’s smile dropped, and he looked away.
“What?” Ginny asked, her stomach filling with dread.
He gazed at her, trying to figure out the right words.
“Just spit it out!” She said impatiently.
“I’m not going,” He said, swallowing. “To Hogwarts.”
Suddenly Ginny saw red. “What do you mean?”
“I’m not going,” He repeated more firmly.
“And why the hell not? You said you wanted to. You promised me,” She growled.
“I didn’t,” He said quietly, and she realised it was true. Through all of their years of friendship, she’d foolishly assumed that he was waiting just as eagerly as her to finally be on the same side.
“Where will you go?” She asked thickly.
“I don’t know, but I’m not spending one moment more with the Dursleys than I have to,” He said, his jaw clenching.
“So you’re running away?” She sneered derisively.
“No!” He snapped, anger flaring in him as well. “I won’t- I don’t have to stay. It’s not like I have anything to stay for.”
“I see,” She said, an emotionless mask hiding the torrent of emotions brewing inside her. He looked miserable too, but for the first time in seven years, she didn’t care. She turned away, speeding across the field, through the drunken crowd, past her friends’ calls, and headed straight for her room, and finally let herself give up on the one person she’d sworn never to give up on.
Present Day, Christmas 1998
“Oi, would you stop being a killjoy and join us?”
Ginny sent Fred a scowl, not moving from her place by the window.
“Yeah, Gin, just because we couldn’t visit Romania with the rest of them doesn’t mean we can’t have fun,” George said.
“This is our first Christmas without having to listen to Percy go on about the government reform. We ought to make the most of it,” Ron agreed.
Ginny rolled her eyes. She appreciated their efforts, but she just wasn’t in the mood for Christmas fun, and she told them so.
“Honestly, Ginny, you never hang out with us anymore. We’re not letting up until you come out,” Hermione said, much to her annoyance.
“Want to play ice hockey with us?” Katie asked.
“I only play football,” Ginny made up the excuse, hoping her brothers wouldn’t rat her out.
“Then, let’s play football,” Emmy suggested, just as Ron opened his mouth.
“In the snow?!” Ginny asked incredulously.
“Why not? We used to play all sorts of things when we were younger,” George reminded.
“Yeah, new game, everyone, snow football!” Fred announced. “Boys vs Girls.”
“I’ll referee,” Hermione volunteered.
“Come on, Ginny!” Ron called. “Don’t be a chicken!”
Ginny glared at him, fully aware of his goading, and a little bit annoyed with herself for giving in to it. It was not ideal. She hadn’t wanted to do anything with football for a while, because it felt like it was their game, but she had loved football for far longer than she’d loved him. She wasn’t some lovesick idiot, and it was time she acted like it.
“All right, but don’t start crying when I beat you,” She said, much to the protests of her brothers.
The game was a refreshing break, a trip down the memory lane to before they all started school and used to play in the countryside. It was a very close game because of Oliver, who was assistant coach, while he waited to hear from one of the good teams, and Ginny was about to score the winning goal when she saw a figure leaning against a tree next to the fake goalposts. She froze. It couldn’t be. Surely not.
“Harry?”
“Hi,” He smiled nervously.
“What are you doing here?”
“Your friends told me you were playing. Didn’t feel right, not keeping up our tradition.”
A disbelieving laugh left her lips. “You came all the way to keep up tradition?”
“Among other things,” He swallowed. “I was thinking of joining here next month.”
“But the admissions-”
“You seem to have very meddlesome friends hell-bent on getting us on the same team,” He said amused. Ginny turned around to see the girls grinning at her.
“Merry Christmas!” They yelled, and she had no idea how, but they had somehow gotten her brothers in on this scheme too, for they were winking and wolf-whistling at them. Thankfully, Hermione dragged them all inside to give them some space.
“That they are,” Ginny laughed softly. “You’ll be stuck with them too if you join here.”
“I’ll manage,” He said, his lips quirking.
“What made you change your mind?” She asked seriously.
“I thought-” Harry said. “I thought maybe there was something here for me, after all.”
“Your football?”
“More like my footballer,” He said boldly, and excitement burst inside her. “Do I? Have my footballer?”
She stepped closer to him, the cold air mixing their breaths. “Only if I have mine,” She whispered before tilting her head back, just as he lowered his for a kiss. Slow and sweet, with her hands tangled in his hair, and his tightening around her waist to pull her closer, it was exactly how she’d imagined it would be. From the dazed expression on his face when they pulled apart, she was sure he felt the same.
“We’re finally on the same team,” She said happily.
“I’ve always been on your team,” He smiled, taking her hand. “Care to show me around?”
“Of course. First stop, the most popular snogging spot,” She answered cheekily and tugged him along, their laughter blending in with the magical ruckus that was oh-so-common at Hogwarts at this time of year.