DISCLAMER: I'm now JK Rowling, and I don't claim any rights to Harry Potter!

The crowd dispersed slowly, some making their way down from the stands, others lingering to chat.

A very exciting Quidditch match had just taken place between the Holyhead Harpies and Puddlemere United.

Harry Potter wove his way through the crowd, striding down to the Quidditch pitch. The players were being greeted by friends and family, the Holyhead Harpies congratulated, the Puddlemere players consoled. A group of people stood to one side, each with the familiar red Weasley hair, with the exception of silvery-blond Fleur and Hermione's bushy brown hair, both of which stood out in the group. Hermione was clutching Ron's hand and chatting animatedly with Ginny. Ah...Ginny.
The latter wore dark green Quidditch robes, and held on to her new Firebolt. The broomstick, incidentally, had been a gift from Harry for her seventeenth birthday.

Having just won her first game as Chaser for the Holyhead Harpies, she was grinning broadly and looking quite a bit windswept.

However happy she looked, there was a slight longing in her brown eyes, and Harry had a feeling he knew what that was about.

He had not expected to be able to come to her game, having been assigned to a dangerous and important Auror mission. Fenrir Greyback, the werewolf, had been tracked to North America, and Harry had been given the responsibility of finding and capturing or killing him. His success was crucial, but he had not expected capturing the werewolf to be so quickly accomplished.

Ginny, Mrs. Weasley, and Hermione had begged him not to go, fearing for his safety, but he had known that someone would have to, and, as the Ministry seemed to think, who better suited for the job than the man who had defeated Voldemort himself?

Nobody knew he was back except for Minister Shackleblot and the head of his department. Therefor, none of the Weasleys or Hermione knew of his presence at the game. Least of all, Ginny, and that was how he wanted it. A surprise. And quite a surprise it would be.

Whispers followed him all the way down to the pitch. He stopped a few feet from the group, grinning, his green eyes sparkling. He fingered the small velvet box in his track jacket pocket, nervously contemplating what he was about to do.

"Are you quite sure you're not hurt, Ginny dear? That Bludger did hit rather-" Mrs. Weasley cut herself off with a little, "Oh!" at the sight of Harry.

"Mum? Are you all right?" Ginny asked anxiously.

Mrs. Weasley began to laugh, then cry at the same time. "Hullo, Beautiful," said a familiar, husky male voice in Ginny's ear.

She gasped, the spun around to throw herself into Harry's arms. He laughed, kissing her briefly.

"Nice job up there, you made me proud," Harry teased, still holding her close.

"Oh, Harry! I thought you weren't coming, and what about Fenrir Greyback, what happened? Oh, I was so worried, I want to know everything!"

Harry chuckled. "Later, Gin. I'll tell you everything later."

Ginny pulled back and held him at arms-length, examining his face. "All right, spit it out."


"Whatever you're bursting to tell me!"

Harry smirked. "Alright, then..."

He released her, reaching into his pocket and getting down on one knee. Ginny audibly caught her breath.

"Ginny Weasley, will you marry me?" He opened the box.

Ginny's hand flew to her mouth. "Yes," she whispered from behind it, the familiar blazing look burning in her eyes.

Harry stood, sliding the beautiful diamond ring onto her finger. It's band was gold and delicate, but not to much so for Ginny, and a single diamond was set in it's center.

Harry slipped his arms around her waist, his lips touching hers. The couple was vaguely aware of the Weasleys, Hermione, and a few others nearby who had witnessed Harry's proposal cheering and applauding. Harry's mouth moved from Ginny's, and his breath tickled her ear. "It was my mum's," he murmured.

The predictable scene followed, Ginny's hand was passed around, the ring admired, Mrs. Weasley was again torn between tears and laughter as she hugged her daughter and soon-to-be son-in-law. Mr. Weasley shook Harry's hand and tried to act stern as he informed Harry that he would personally strangle him if he ever hurt his daughter, but the twinkle in his eyes told Harry that he was safe. Besides, Mr. Weasley knew that Harry would never so much as dream about hurting Ginny in any way.

Mrs. Weasley, Hermione, and Fleur were already discussing wedding plans enthusiastically, and Ron gave his best friend an awkward little approving smile. Harry returned it with a grin.

By this point, fans where flooding onto the pitch to get autographs from the players.

A small, shy-looking girl with hair as bright red as Ginny's sidled up to their group. Keeping her eyes on the ground, she mumbled a request for Ginny's autograph. She seemed quite intimidated by both Ginny and Harry. Ginny kindly took the parchment and quill offered to her and signed her name.

She stopped after writing, Ginny.

She glanced from the girl, to Harry, to her ring, and a smile spread across her face. She finished her signature.

Harry caught a glimpse of the paper as Ginny passed it to the girl.

It read,

Ginny Potter.

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