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McLaggen cornered her in the broomshed after tryouts. “It was you, wasn't it?” he spat angrily. “I've worked it out. It couldn't have been Potter — people would have noticed. Not your brother, either; he was too busy trying to not fall off from his broomstick. So, it must have been you. I’m not letting you get away with this.”
“You’re not making any sense, McLaggen,” Ginny said, shuffling past him to put her borrowed broomstick back with the others. “Go bother somebody else with your paranoia, will you?”
McLaggen stepped in front of her to block her way. “I’m not going anywhere. You hexed me to help your brother and I’ll prove it. I’ll bet you anything that I can make six saves in a row against you, right now on the Quidditch pitch.”
Ginny’s eyebrows rose. Six saves? She knew he was arrogant, but not this much. However, something else caught her attention as well: he thought he had been hexed. She had believed his momentary confusion to be simply bad luck, but now that she thought about it, it could have very well been a spell. That would mean that Ron had cheated to win. It was an unsettling thought.
But no—she could not believe that of her brother. McLaggen was wrong. She had to prove it—and shut him up for good. She crossed her arms and met his glare steadily. “And I bet that you won’t even make four out of six.” That was a stretch. It meant that she would have to score three times to win. But to get what she wanted, she had to raise the stakes.
McLaggen’s unpleasant smile told her that she had succeeded. “Very well,” he said. “If you’re stupid enough to try. And what are we betting?”
She only had to think for a second. “Your broomstick. And your silence. If I win, you give me your broomstick and you never, ever bother my brother or my friends again.”
McLaggen’s smile stiffened. “You do realize that this is a Nimbus 2004 and that it probably costs as much as everything you’ve ever possessed?”
Ginny simply held his stare.
Her opponent’s voice grew cold, but he did not back down. “So be it, then. But in exchange, I want something from you, too. And since there’s nothing you own that I could possibly want, if I win, you are going to sleep with me.”
Ginny thought her eyes might have bulged, but she did her best to keep her cool, otherwise. “How typical of you to think that I’m only worth the value of a broomstick. I should be offended.”
McLaggen had probably expected her to cry out in outrage and refuse the bet, allowing him to win the argument. He certainly did not know her well enough. Ginny Weasley liked to take risks. She was not afraid of falling or hurting herself. She threw everything she had into the game. It was the reason why she was so good at Quidditch.
Besides, McLaggen might be nauseatingly full of himself, but he did have a very appealing body. She had seen him undress after practice before, and she thought that a night with him might not be unpleasant at all. His face was rather handsome, really. In fact, if she could just have him gagged the whole time, she might even take great pleasure in it.
“What is it, Weasley?” McLaggen teased. “Are you backing out? Would you like to change it to five saves, to make it easier on you?”
Despite her attempts to control herself, Ginny felt her temper flare. “Certainly not. It stays at four, and we’re going through with it. Right now. Get your broom and meet me on the pitch.”
His sly smile told her that she had let herself be manipulated, but she was too angry to care. She strode out of the room without waiting for him.
***
The first two saves were a little worrying, but not enough to dent Ginny’s confidence. The third had her clenching her teeth while McLaggen laughed uproariously. She had been sure to score, but he had guessed her move. The Quaffle shot back towards her and she struck it as hard as she could, barely bothering to aim. McLaggen, who had been too busy laughing, did not see it coming fast enough and missed it. Ginny felt her smile return. McLaggen was much more concentrated after that, but she still managed to score a second time. And then it was time for the sixth try—the one that would decide everything.
She flew around the pitch twice before stopping abruptly in front of the goals, and she swung her arm in a throwing gesture. But instead of sending the Quaffle towards McLaggen, she threw it backwards and then spun to hit it with the end of her broomstick, hurling it towards the hoops much lower than where he was expecting it. McLaggen only had an instant to change his trajectory. It was too late—he could not possibly reach the Quaffle in time. McLaggen let himself drop from his broomstick, hanging on only by one foot, and threw his arm down to intercept the Quaffle. He did not manage to catch it—the red ball hit the side of his hand with great speed and flew past—but it was enough to divert its course. The Quaffle hit the hoop and rebounded. Ginny had lost.
She barely had time to notice her defeat, however, because McLaggen's scream of pain as the Quaffle hit his hand drew her attention away from the game. At the same time, his foot slid from the foothold, and although he tried to throw himself up to catch his broomstick again, he was not fast enough. His foot slid free and he started falling towards the ground.
Ginny just barely managed to take out her wand and cast a Cushioning Spell before McLaggen hit. Even with that, the shock must have hurt him. He remained sprawled on his back, grimacing in pain. She quickly landed next to him. “Bloody hell, McLaggen! Are you out of your mind? Who does something like that?”
He turned his head towards her and managed to smirk. “Someone who doesn’t want to lose a bet.”
Ginny shook her head disbelievingly as she helped him to his feet.
***
McLaggen’s only real injury was his wrist, but he would probably feel the pain in his muscles for a few days. Madam Pomfrey said that it might teach him not to act like a reckless first-year fool flying for the first time. That made Ginny smile.
“Well, she’s not wrong,” she told McLaggen when he scowled as she left the side of his bed to go tend to other patients. “I knew you liked your broomstick, but I’d never have thought that you liked it enough to put your life in danger for it.”
He shrugged and got up. He no longer needed her help to walk. “I knew you’d catch me. After all, you’d have to be rather quick with your wand to be able to hex me in the middle of tryouts.”
“How many times do I have to say that I didn’t. . .”
He did not let her finish. “And besides, I didn’t do it for the broomstick.”
Suddenly, Ginny became aware of the way his eyes were lingering on her body, and she felt herself blush. “Well, don’t get too excited because I have several conditions before we do anything.”
“Conditions?” He raised an eyebrow. “I won a bet, Weasley. There were no conditions.”
“No,” she corrected. “The conditions were simply not stated. I’m stating them now. Number one: I decide when it happens. Number two: nobody finds out about it. Number three: absolutely no gloating or snide comments are allowed. Number four . . .” She hesitated for an instant before continuing. “Number four: you do everything I ask to get me off. There’s no way I’m doing this without getting my share of pleasure out of it.”
He stared at her for a moment and then started laughing. Feeling her anger rise, she snapped, “If you’re going to make fun of me, McLaggen, I’m walking away right now, and I don’t care that we had a bet.”
McLaggen immediately contained his mirth. “I’m not making fun of you, Weasley. I’m just realising exactly how much the broken wrist and life-threatening fall are worth it.”
And he gave her that look again. She had to stop herself from checking that she still had her clothes on.
“Do I at least get a comfort snog while I wait for you to decide on the right time?” McLaggen asked, casually pulling the curtains around the bed closed.
Ginny looked around and considered. Nobody could see them. She took a step towards McLaggen. “All right. Let’s see if you’re any good,” she said softly.
Fire flashed in his eyes and she repressed a smile. A moment later, he pulled her to him and covered her mouth with his. Ginny closed her eyes and let the kiss wash over her. It was fiery and full of promise, and she found herself gripping his back, sinking her nails in his shoulders through the fabric of his shirt. McLaggen’s hands slid along her body, sending jolts of pleasure through her. She made herself break the kiss before she let out any sound that would alert Pomfrey.
She was out of breath and saw, satisfactorily, that he seemed just as flustered. She was going to enjoy this, she decided. She adjusted her clothes and flashed McLaggen a smile before pulling the curtains open and walking out. She could feel his gaze following her, thick with lust, as she exited the room.
She was going to enjoy this very much.