Chapter Text
Ginny was breathing heavily, her focus clear as her skillful hands swiftly reached out towards the wooden handlebar before her, gripping it tightly.
She pulled, feeling the rough material digging into her palms and she suppressed a groan, now mustering all the strength left in her hurting body, her muscles aching under her own weight.
She felt droplets of cold sweat flowing down her temple as with one last loud roar she violently heaved herself over the wooden obstacle, a good three meters above the ground.
For a split second, she felt perfectly balanced, every limb relaxed, nothing but fresh air around her, before the short moment of bliss ended as she roughly landed on the cool wet bark mulch that littered the ground around the Quidditch obstacle course.
She felt the wind being knocked from her chest, a violent crash, and a faceplant onto the ground below her following.
She gritted her teeth, not to make any more noise other than the loud thud from her body weight clashing with the floor.
Everything hurt, her ears rang, and she just wanted to lay there, not moving an inch until next week at the earliest.
But it seemed like people had other plans for her.
“27 minutes, straight on the mark, not bad, not great, Weasley!”
Coach Anne Miller’s gruff voice rang out over the training grounds.
“I liked your pace, but killing yourself over a training session also isn’t the way to go. I know you like to show that you’re the best out there— and trust me, you are —but we need you in one piece and on your feet, if Gwenog has to cart you onto the pitch in a wheelbarrow, you will help nobody!” She explained, a slight tinge of worry in her voice.
Ginny simply lay there, face down, still breathing heavily the sound of her coach’s voice faint and far away, muffled by the chaos in her racing mind.
After what seemed like a small eternity she finally managed to muster the strength to haul herself to her knees, her muscles screaming as she pushed her torso up, hands shaking.
Her head felt like it was on fire, and her glazed eyes met her coach’s, staring at her in worry and uncertainty.
“Ginny? Are—“
“— Are you alright?” She asked, her brows furrowed, dark brown eyes fixed on Ginny’s weak and trembling form.
Ginny took one more deep breath, trying to finally compose herself a bit, she couldn’t show weakness like that, especially not in front of her coach.
Bite your cheek, you're stronger than that, Girl! She repeatedly told herself, before her eyes closed and fluttered open again, her look had changed and she met her coach's gaze, this time confidently.
“I Am fine, thanks for asking, Anne.” Her voice was friendly but showed clear determination.
“It’s just the weather, I am feeling this recent cold front deep in my marrow. I’ve told you I am a Summer person, those fluctuating temperatures basically drain me of any energy.” She sighed, trying to play off her obvious overexertion.
“But you know how it is, staying on top is hard!” She pulled her aching body to its feet. Suppressing yet another groan as her joints basically screamed in agony, the palms of her hands now yearning for the cool mulch that had felt like cold ice on a skin burn.
But Ginny Weasley never showed weakness around other people, no one but a select trusted few.
Anne, the coach, simply stared at her, the clipboard in her left hand wet from the light rain, hanging down loosely and forgotten.
“I guess that’s it for today's training session then, you did amazing, but again, I think giving yourself a bit more time will do wonders for you in the long run, not only when it comes to your performance but also your mental—“
The look Ginny shot her instantly shut her down, and Coach Anne only raised her hands in defeat.
“I am sorry, I’ll shut up, but at least think about what I’ve said.”
With that being said she quickly nodded towards Ginny’s direction before apparating away, leaving the red-haired woman standing on the training grounds, alone and drenched in sweat and rain.
Ginny sighed, only shaking her head.
No, Anne was wrong, Weasleys never backed down, and especially not her!
Anyway, she had to change out of this soggy training gear, it was Friday afternoon and Ginny couldn’t wait to finally get home for a well-earned weekend break.
She had been working more than hard recently, and to say the negative effects were only physical…
She bit her lip as she thought about it, coach Anne hadn’t been wrong, the overexertion wasn’t good for her mental state.
The ringing in her ears, the way her mind drifted off in day-to-day conversations, the constant tiredness…
But she couldn’t allow herself to rest, not yet at least, not until that shining gold trophy was lifted high over her head!
With the mental image of the Harpies winning the Cup, edged into her mind, she made her way inside to shower and change, finally getting rid of those disgusting training clothes.
She was quick, possibly having done the after-workout ritual a thousand times by now.
She swiftly cleaned herself in the shower, before stepping out and drying herself off with a flick of her wrist and a well-rehearsed spell.
Two minutes later she was dressed in her favourite— slightly worn out yet still very comfy —Jumper, sporting a bright red “Potter” on the back, her grey Harpy sweatpants on as well.
She had her hair bound up in a long red ponytail as she stepped into the training complex’ Floo, feeling the familiar pull before she simply stumbled into their living room, landing on the new beige sofa they had recently bought, the softness of it luckily cushioning her fall.
She sighed again, this really was a problem.
She didn’t have the energy to pull herself to her feet again, so she decided to simply spin around staying on the fluffy piece of furniture for a while.
After Ginny had finally managed to prop her aching body into a comfortable position, which had taken her a lot longer than she wanted to admit.
Ginny let out a deep breath she didn’t know she had been holding, relaxing at last.
Her eyes suddenly landed on a deeply worried emerald green gaze, silently watching her from the shadows of the kitchen doorway.