A Cannon's Harpy

VI

Ginny sat in the quiet of her room after a lengthy practise. A day of Quidditch had never felt so long before. The entire time flying she'd wanted nothing more than for time pass so that seven could come and her date with Harry could begin.

Practise had been awkward though. Not in a bad way, but in a fun testing boundaries sort of way. They'd shared glances, bumped shoulders and each time there had been a pause - a moments consideration. Their eyes would lock and they would share a smile. She'd longed for another kiss, but there never seemed to be a right moment.

Now that she was home and seven just a few minutes away she had a more pressing issue. She had to decide what to wear. Harry had said to be informal.

She stood and crossed the room to the closet. "But what does that mean?" she huffed in annoyance while glancing sideways towards the mirror. A bunch of outfits, not that she had many, already covered the poor bed. She lifted a set of black dress robes, which were probably older than herself, then huffed. "Informal! Can't the man be more specific?"

Her tirade continued. Eventually nearly every outfit had been banished back to where it had been, in what would now be a complete mess. All that remained was her newest pair of jeans and a jersey she'd sworn to never wear. Deciding that it really was her only option, she got dressed and hurried into the bathroom to do her makeup; an art she was not very good at.

A number of frustrating minutes later Ginny tiptoed down the stairs, careful to never set foot on a squeaky board. Ron and her father were busy playing a game of chess allowing her to slip passed them without notice. Her mother hummed softly to herself while cooking. Ginny edged into the kitchen and stretched out a hand towards the handle.

"You look lovely," a voice spoke from behind. Ginny's hand froze over the handle. She'd been so close. "I haven't seen you in that green jersey I made for you in years." Ginny blushed. Her hand dropped to her side as she faced her mother. "And makeup?"

The jersey felt tighter than ever before. Ginny had always complained about how it hugged her body and that was before she'd developed into a young woman.

She coughed, trying to find her voice. "Harpies thing tonight." The words came quickly even though she tried hard to not show any signs of going on a date. "My coach wants to get a drink and talk. There's so much to talk about." She felt rather proud of herself. It was all true if she stretched her imagination a bit.

"That's nice." Her mother looked rather disappointed. "I had hoped you were sneaking out on a date."

Ginny felt her cheeks heat under her mother's gaze. "Date?" she squeaked. "Where do you think I would find the time for a date?"

Her mother sighed and her eyes glistened hopefully. "A mother can always dream, dear."

Ginny's past was never spoken about openly and her aversion to boys had been bothering her mother for years. Ginny crossed the kitchen to her mother and enveloped her in a hug. "I can't promise anything, mum. But I'll try to keep an eye open." The all too familiar bone crushing Mrs Weasley hug threatened to squeeze the life out of Ginny.

"Well, that's good enough for me." Mrs Weasley spoke as she held onto Ginny.

Ginny smiled and then slipped out of the house and Apparated straight into Harry's flat. It was precisely seven.