By: DonnaMarieWeasley
Morning broke slowly over the Welsh cliffs, the pale light of dawn creeping through Ginny's window like an uninvited guest. The chill of the night still clung to the air, and the sound of the sea crashing against the rocks far below seemed muted, distant. Ginny sat at the small kitchen table, her hands wrapped around a cup of tea that had long since gone cold.
She hadn't slept again after the nightmare.
The terror of it still hung over her like a shroud, a heaviness that settled deep in her bones. It wasn't the first time the dreams had come for her, and it wouldn't be the last. But this one had felt different. Sharper. Like the past was pushing harder to remind her that it still had its claws in her, no matter how fast she tried to outrun it.
Her gaze drifted to the broom leaning against the wall by the door, the Firebolt that had carried her through countless Quidditch matches and practice drills. It had always been her escape—her refuge. But last night, even the sky hadn't been far enough to keep the ghosts at bay.
The flat was too quiet. She could hear the ticking of the clock on the wall, the faint rustle of the wind against the window, but it only made the silence feel heavier. She missed the noise of The Burrow, the chaos of her brothers, the warmth of her mum's cooking filling the house. But here, in this small, empty flat, the only sounds were her own thoughts echoing back at her.
Ginny took a deep breath and stood, pushing her chair back with a scrape that seemed far too loud in the quiet. She had a match in a week. Training wasn't optional, no matter how much she wanted to crawl back into bed and let the day pass her by.
The Harpies didn't care about nightmares. Pembroke didn't care about nightmares. And Ginny wasn't about to give anyone a reason to think she couldn't handle it.
The cup clinked softly as she set it in the sink, the cold ceramic rough under her fingers. Her uniform was laid out neatly on the back of the sofa, ready for another day of drills, scrimmages, and pushing her body to its limits. Ginny had learned to live in that space—on the edge of exhaustion, where there wasn't time to think, only to act.
She dressed quickly, the familiar weight of her Quidditch robes settling around her like armor. The Firebolt felt light in her hand, a comforting presence as she strapped it to her back. The cold air bit at her cheeks as she stepped outside, the wind tugging at her hair as she mounted her broom.
The flight to the practice pitch wasn't long, but it gave her a few minutes of quiet, a few minutes where the world shrank to just the sound of the wind and the steady hum of magic beneath her fingertips. The sea stretched out below her, dark and vast, its surface rippling with the first light of the sun.
For those few moments, she could almost pretend the night hadn't happened.
Almost.
When she touched down on the pitch, the rest of the team was already gathering, their faces sharp with the focus that only came in the week before a big match. Katie was there, too, her broom slung casually over one shoulder, her expression unreadable as she chatted with a few of the other players.
Ginny hesitated for a moment, her stomach twisting at the memory of their conversation in the locker room the day before. She wasn't ready for another round of questions, of concern she didn't want. But Katie hadn't pushed, hadn't pried more than she had to. Maybe today would be the same.
Before she could second-guess herself, Ginny strode toward the center of the field, her heart picking up speed as she fell into the rhythm of practice. There wasn't time for hesitation here. There wasn't time for thinking about what came after practice, what waited for her when she was alone in her flat again.
Pembroke's whistle cut through the air, sharp and clear, and the team snapped into formation. Ginny took her place at the edge of the circle, her broom hovering just above the ground, her body coiled and ready for the drills that were about to come.
"Alright, ladies," Pembroke called, her voice carrying easily over the wind. "Today's focus is precision. I don't want to see sloppy catches, missed dives, or lazy passes. We're a week out from the opener, and if any of you aren't ready, now's the time to show it."
The intensity in Pembroke's tone was nothing new. She pushed them hard, harder than most teams, but that was why the Harpies were one of the best. Ginny thrived under that pressure. She needed it. It kept her mind from wandering, kept her focused on the next catch, the next goal, the next win.
Katie shot her a quick glance as they took their positions for the first drill, but Ginny didn't return it. She couldn't afford the distraction.
The first few drills went smoothly enough—passes, dives, and formations that were ingrained in them after months of training. But as the sun climbed higher in the sky, the drills became faster, more intense. Ginny's muscles burned with the effort, her body moving on autopilot, her mind focused only on the next movement, the next catch.
It wasn't until the Quaffle slipped from her fingers during a particularly fast pass that the first flicker of doubt crept in. The ball tumbled through the air, hitting the ground with a thud that seemed too loud, too final. Ginny's breath caught in her throat, her chest tightening.
"Focus, Weasley," Pembroke barked from the sidelines, her eyes narrowing. "We don't have time for mistakes."
Ginny clenched her jaw, her hands gripping the handle of her broom so tightly her knuckles turned white. She couldn't afford to mess up now. Not this close to the match.
Katie caught the Quaffle easily, her expression unreadable as she tossed it back to Ginny. Their eyes met briefly, and for a moment, Ginny thought she saw a flicker of concern in Katie's gaze, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared.
Ginny nodded, forcing herself to focus, to push the doubts aside. This was her world. This was where she was supposed to be. The nightmares, the doubts—they didn't belong here.
The next few drills passed without incident, but the tension in Ginny's chest never fully disappeared. It sat there, just under the surface, waiting for the next slip, the next mistake.
As practice wore on, the drills became more intense, the pace picking up with each round. The other players were moving like clockwork, their bodies fluid and controlled, while Ginny's mind raced, her focus slipping in and out of the present. Every time she blinked, she could see flashes of the nightmare from the night before—the green light, the screams, the cold weight of fear pressing down on her.
By the time Pembroke called for a break, Ginny's muscles were screaming, her chest heaving with the effort of keeping up. She landed heavily on the ground, her legs trembling as she dismounted her broom. Sweat dripped down her face, her hands shaking slightly as she wiped her forehead with the back of her hand.
Katie was already walking toward her, her brow furrowed in concern. "You alright?"
Ginny nodded quickly, brushing her off. "Fine."
Katie didn't look convinced, but she didn't push. Instead, she offered a small smile, a gesture that somehow felt more sincere than words. "You're pushing hard today."
Ginny shrugged, her gaze drifting to the horizon where the sea met the sky. "We've got a match coming up."
Katie's smile faltered, her eyes searching Ginny's face for something unspoken. "Yeah. But that's not what I meant."
Ginny's throat tightened, and she forced herself to look away, her fingers clenching around the handle of her broom. The nightmare still lingered at the edges of her mind, like a shadow she couldn't quite shake.
"I'm fine," she said again, her voice firmer this time. "Just focused."
Katie didn't press further, but the concern in her eyes lingered. "Alright. Just... don't burn out before the match, yeah?"
Ginny managed a tight smile. The break didn't last long. Pembroke was never one to give them much time to rest, especially not so close to a match. The whistle cut through the air once again, sharp and demanding, pulling the team back into formation. Ginny forced herself to focus, shaking off the lingering tension from the conversation with Katie.
There wasn't time for hesitation. The opener was just days away, and she needed to be at the top of her game.
"Alright, ladies!" Pembroke called, her voice carrying easily across the pitch as the team gathered around her. "I want everyone back on the field for one more round of drills, but before we get into that, let's go over the travel plans for next week's match."
Ginny's heart picked up a beat. The opener was in Edinburgh—one of the biggest stadiums in the league—and it was a high-pressure start to the season. The Harpies always drew large crowds, but this match would set the tone for the rest of the season. They couldn't afford to slip up.
"We'll be leaving for Edinburgh two days before the match," Pembroke continued, her hands on her hips as she surveyed the team. "No Apparating the day of, as usual, so we'll be staying overnight. I expect all of you to be ready to travel early, and that means no late-night outings, no distractions."
Ginny shifted slightly, her fingers still tapping restlessly on the handle of her broom. They had done this a hundred times before—traveled for matches, stayed in cramped hotels or team lodges—but there was always something about the first game of the season that made it feel different. Bigger.
"Rooming assignments will be posted by the end of the day," Pembroke added, her gaze sweeping over the team. "And yes, they're final. So if you've got a problem with your roommate, deal with it."
There was a murmur of laughter from some of the players, but Ginny's mind was already racing. Rooming assignments. She'd shared rooms with most of her teammates before, but something in her gut twisted at the thought of being stuck in a room for two nights with someone like Demelza Robbins or Julia Dawlish—both of whom had a habit of commenting on every little mistake she made on the pitch. The thought of Katie crossed her mind, and her chest tightened. She'd shared rooms with Katie before on other trips, but things were... different now.
Pembroke waved them off with a sharp gesture. "Now, enough of that. Back on your brooms. I want to see the kind of speed you'll be bringing to Edinburgh. Robbins, you're first."
As the drills resumed, Ginny's thoughts kept drifting back to the rooming assignments. It wasn't just about the match, not entirely. The past few days had been gnawing at her, the nightmares, the tension with Katie, the weight of expectations. The idea of being stuck in close quarters, sharing space, made her feel more exposed than she wanted to admit.
Katie flew past her, her movements smooth and confident, and Ginny couldn't help but glance over. Katie had been the one constant in all this. No matter what, Katie had always been there—solid, calm, unflappable. But lately, there was something else beneath the surface, something unspoken that seemed to linger between them like a shadow.
Ginny shook her head, pushing the thoughts aside. Now wasn't the time for distractions. She needed to focus on the match, on proving to Pembroke and the rest of the team that she was ready for the season. Everything else could wait.
By the time practice ended, Ginny's muscles were screaming in protest, and her mind was buzzing with a mix of adrenaline and exhaustion. The sun was starting to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the pitch, and the air had grown colder, the sharp bite of the Welsh wind cutting through her Quidditch robes.
As the team gathered their gear and started making their way back to the locker room, Pembroke's voice rang out one last time. "Check the board before you leave. Rooming assignments are up."
Ginny felt a flicker of unease as she slung her broom over her shoulder and headed toward the board at the edge of the pitch. A few of the other players were already clustered around it, talking in low voices as they scanned the list. Ginny joined them, her heart thudding in her chest as her eyes quickly scanned the names.
Bell/Weasley.
Her stomach flipped. Katie.
Ginny swallowed hard, her fingers tightening around the handle of her broom. She wasn't sure how she felt about it—relieved, maybe, that she wouldn't have to deal with someone like Demelza or Julia. But the knot of tension in her chest didn't ease. Sharing a room with Katie would mean there was no escaping the conversations she'd been trying to avoid. The questions. The concern.
Katie approached the board a moment later, her eyes scanning the list before she looked up at Ginny. Their eyes met, and for a moment, neither of them said anything. The unspoken tension from the day before still lingered between them, but Katie broke the silence first.
"Looks like we're rooming together," Katie said, her tone light but her eyes searching Ginny's face.
Ginny forced a smile, though her heart was racing. "Yeah. Just like old times, right?"
Katie smiled, but there was something guarded in it, something that said she wasn't fooled by Ginny's casual tone. "Yeah, just like old times."
But they both knew it wasn't. Things had changed since Hogwarts, since the war, since the nightmares that still haunted Ginny in ways she hadn't fully admitted to herself. And now, with the pressure of the upcoming match and the weight of the past still hanging over them, Ginny wasn't sure how they were supposed to navigate this.
"Should be fun," Katie said, her voice a little too cheerful as she slung her broom over her shoulder. "We'll have plenty of time to go over strategy for the match. Or, you know, just sleep."
Ginny nodded, her smile feeling more forced by the second. "Yeah. Sure."
As Katie walked away, Ginny watched her go, the knot in her chest tightening. She wasn't sure if it was relief or dread that she felt. Maybe it was both.
Get chapter a day early for FREE our blog https://fictioneers.thinkific.com/pages/blog and fill out the poll to see what else we should write (see a quotes/preview of chapter 4 (https://fictioneers.thinkific.com/products/digital_downloads/chasing_shadows_4 / chapter 5 https://fictioneers.thinkific.com/products/digital_downloads/chasing_shadows_5) Chapter 4 will be posted here Oct 1.
Kinktober is almost upon us. I need all your prompts now if you want them included!
Next Chapter Preview:
"What was that?" Katie's voice came from the bathroom, sharper now.
Ginny's pulse quickened as she fumbled to gather the pieces, but her movements were too sluggish, her coordination off. Her heart pounded in her chest, panic rising faster as Katie stepped out of the bathroom, her eyes widening when she saw the shattered vial on the floor.
"What the hell, Ginny?" Katie asked, her voice tense with alarm as she crossed the room. "What is that?"
Ginny's throat tightened, her hands trembling as she tried to sweep the glass into her palm. "It's nothing," she mumbled, her words thick and clumsy. "Just... it's just a potion."