A Cup of Tea, Please

5 | Hungry (But Not for Food)

As he didn't have much to do aside from his Auror training, which Mrs Weasley told him would be finalised by the end of the year, Harry decided to sit amongst the greenery behind the Burrow to watch his girlfriend's Quidditch practice for the next week . . . well, without six other players, it was just flying practice, but she did perform some stunning tricks which Harry could probably never master. It also provided them with, at last, something to talk about.

Harry felt a sense of pride within himself grow along with his smile as he watched Ginny glide through the air, rolling and weaving through trees as her red hair trailed behind her like a cape.

"If you think that's impressive," Ginny grinned, landing infront of Harry with a woosh, "watch my Wronski Feint."

"I didn't know you advocated for the other team getting critically injured," he replied with a grin, "correct me if I'm wrong, but that's a bit too far."

"And I thought you were eager to attempt it after watching Krum's performance during the World Cup?" Ginny inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"As good as a player you are, I doubt you're that good."

"And you think you are? Just watch."

And just as she'd promised, Ginny shot up into the air and dived back down immediately, face-first. Harry felt his chest tighten as he watched Ginny near the shrubbery, now wide-eyed. Was she always wearing that expression? Maybe she was just enjoying——

Crash.

"Ginny!" Harry cried, jumping to his feet and sprinting to the bush in which Ginny had crashed.

"I'm . . . good," she muttered, her pale hands emerging from the cluster of emerald leaves, followed by her head. "Maybe I shouldn't perform that at the tryouts."

"Aren't you hurt?"

"Harry," Ginny's disembodied head wore a deadpan look, "what do you think? I crashed into a bush. Not concrete, you blithering idiot."

"Yeah, but the twigs——"

The rest of Ginny's body arose from the bush and she held up her hand, which bore a few light scratches.

"It's just a few scratches, I'll be okay," she said carelessly. "You care too much sometimes, babe."

"Too much?" Harry laughed. "You're trying out for the Holyhead Harpies tomorrow. We've got to make sure you're in the best condition in order to amaze the—uh—whoever picks the players."

"You're beginning to sound more like a personal trainer than a husband—" Ginny realised what she'd just said and clapped a hand to her mouth. "I mean, boyfriend."

Harry had gone the whole week without being reminded of the future which was slowly but surely creeping upon him, and he was more than content with keeping it that way. But knowing that today was the last day on which he could live blissfully ignorant to his future? He felt his stomach drop.

"So, should we go back into the house?" Harry suggested, ignoring what Ginny had just said.

"Why?"

On cue, a cold droplet of water landed on Harry's bare skin, and then his head, and then his nose. . . .

"Because of that."

As if the clouds were responding to Harry, rain started cascading upon the two, drops pounding on their heads relentlessly.

"Maybe," Ginny shrugged, before suddenly taking off and sprinting towards the Burrow, slightly damaged broomstick in hand.

"Hey!" Harry cried, sprinting after his girlfriend, trying to catch up with her. "Don't leave me out here alone!"