Hermione arrived at Chudley Stadium well before the match was to begin. Now that the two most important people in her life were Cannons, she wanted to explore what she'd come to think of as their native habitat.
She was astonished by the amount of team merchandise for sale, and also by her reaction to it. She'd previously associated Cannons posters with Ron, but now that they featured both Ryan and Harry they had a completely different flavour. The poster of Ryan was particularly affecting—the wind ruffled his hair as he flew, and she could imagine his muscles flexing as he hurled the Quaffle. It was strange to realise that he'd probably been among the many players flying across the walls of Ron's bedroom.
A pair of young witches, aged fifteen perhaps, stood in front of the display of team posters. 'Which one should I buy, do you think?' asked one of them. 'I can't decide between Harry Potter and Ryan Bellamy.'
'Can't you get both?' replied her friend.
'No, I also want a jersey.'
'Well, whose number would you rather wear, and whose picture would you rather have?'
'That's a hard one. I suppose I should get Ryan Bellamy's poster, since Harry Potter's in the Prophet several times a week.'
'True, but everyone's going to be wearing Potter's number.'
'I don't care—I want one anyway.'
Hermione had a similar dilemma about whether to purchase Ryan's or Harry's miniature figurine. She remembered the Viktor Krum figurine Ron had purchased years earlier and found it odd to consider that Hermione Granger—buck-toothed, bushy-haired swot—had now dated two Quidditch stars and was best friends with a third.
She decided to get Harry's figurine, since it seemed friendlier somehow. Not that Ryan's was surly, as Viktor's had been, but her experience of Ryan was very physical and life-sized, and she didn't fancy a tiny, emasculated version of him padding about her bookcase. By contrast, she could look at Harry for hours without needing to run her hands all over him.
The emblem Luna had designed was everywhere, and from what Hermione could tell it was going to be hugely popular. It had been a stroke of genius to design Cannons merchandise without orange as its primary colour. Casual fans who wouldn't be caught dead in Cannons orange would be much more willing to wear midnight blue with an orange lightning bolt across it.
She smiled at the irony of turning Voldemort's Horcrux—the one he'd never intended to create—into a symbol that glorified the young man who'd defeated him. In theory, Luna hadn't known the true significance of Harry's scar, but Hermione now realised that Luna was far more knowledgeable than she appeared. Had Luna designed the emblem with that in mind, or was this just the unfathomable universe expressing itself through her? It didn't really matter, Hermione supposed.
Eventually she took her seat, knowing Ryan's parents would soon arrive. She wasn't exactly nervous about meeting them, but she was immensely curious about the two people who'd produced her boyfriend. His mother sounded formidable—a witch who'd married a Muggle not in spite of his lack of magic, but out of admiration for his distinctly Muggle qualities. And his father was a highly-educated engineer who'd been confident enough to marry a witch without forcing her to live like a Muggle, as she'd heard was sadly common in mixed marriages.
It had begun to rain, which she instinctively feared as a woman with curly hair, but she was enjoying the physicality of it. If she got cold later she could use warming or drying charms, but for the moment it was pleasant. She knew Ryan would be soaked by the end of the match, and she liked the solidarity of getting drenched as well.
A group of Ryan's friends arrived and introduced themselves to her. She would have enjoyed asking them for stories about him, but she knew how annoying it was when people pressed her for information about Harry, so she refrained. Ryan had told her he particularly hoped she'd hit it off with his friend Annie, so she was pleased when Annie sat next to her.
'It's great to finally meet you,' said Annie. 'Ryan's told us a bit about you, but it devolved pretty quickly into vague statements like "She's brilliant" and "I've never met anyone like her," which are sweet but not very informative.'
Hermione laughed. 'I think he's said similar things about you, to the effect of "She's terrific" and "You and Annie will get on wonderfully," without providing details. I assume you attended Widgington together?'
'Yes—we became friends a couple of months into our first term.'
'It was the same for Harry and me,' she said. 'Hallowe'en, in fact. He's been like a brother ever since.'
'I can't say it was quite the same trajectory for Ryan and me ... I had a horrible crush on him for a couple of years, but I got over it when I was fifteen and now he's just like family. It's amazing how much things change—I can't see him any other way now.'
Hermione wasn't sure how to respond to Annie's confession, but she supposed it was good his best friend was no longer pining for him. She finally said, 'I'm glad you were able to maintain a friendship.'
'Oh, definitely. Nearly all the good qualities that caused me to fancy him in the first place are still available to me as a friend, but without any of the drama.'
'Is he dramatic?' asked Hermione, concerned. 'I'm not sure I've noticed that.'
'Heavens, not at all! No, I'm the dramatic one—Ryan's as solid as the earth.'
'You scared me for a moment there,' said Hermione.
'Have you met his parents yet?'
'No, but they should be arriving presently.'
'You mean he's just thrown you together without running interference?'
'You've scared me again,' said Hermione. 'What are they likely to do to me?'
'It's not his father you need to worry about, particularly if you're used to Muggles. It's his mum. She's what you might call ... intense.'
'Oh dear. Though I suppose I've been described that way myself.'
Annie laughed and said, 'That's true. If anyone can handle Lucinda Spoonwocket, it's Hermione Granger.'
'Does she still use her maiden name?'
'Merlin, no! She dropped it the second she got married. But we're all in the habit of referring to her that way. You'll see why.' She looked past Hermione and said, 'And behold, there they are.'
Hermione turned around and saw a couple in their forties passing in front of other spectators to take their seats. 'Annie!' called the man Hermione assumed was Ryan's father. 'Good to see you. You're looking well.'
'Thanks. Did you enjoy your trip to France?'
'Yes. We hired bicycles and toured through Provence. It was a workout for my French, which was fairly rusty, but Lucinda didn't want to sign up with a tour group so we did it independently.'
'You didn't like that tour either, Walter,' said a woman who could only be Ryan's mother. 'We took a bicycle tour through Brittany several years ago with one of those groups, but we were always held back by people who had never climbed a hill before or learnt to shift gears.'
Lucinda and Walter Bellamy were both tall like their son, but Ryan had inherited his commanding presence from his mother. She was nearly six feet tall with short, fair hair and a square jaw. Hermione was reminded of the woman who'd attempted to teach her horseback riding when she was nine.
'You must be Hermione,' said Lucinda, extending her hand. 'I'm Lucinda Bellamy, and this is my husband Walter.'
Hermione shook their hands and said, 'It's lovely to meet you. Ryan's told me so much about you.' Lucinda took the seat next to Hermione, and Walter sat next to his wife.
'We haven't heard much about you from him yet,' said Walter, 'but he can't be blamed since we only came home two nights ago.'
'It's not as if we don't know a lot about her already,' said Lucinda. 'We don't need to worry whether you have Death Eater sympathies, for example, like that other girl Ryan brought home.'
Hermione was shocked—Ryan hadn't told her about that. 'No, certainly not. I can't imagine there are any Muggle-borns matching that description.'
'No,' said Lucinda, 'but there are a surprising amount of half-bloods who do, particularly those who are only a generation or two removed from Muggles. Dolores Umbridge, for example—her mother was a Muggle, you know.'
'Yes, I heard that,' said Hermione, astonished to be talking about Umbridge within five minutes of meeting Ryan's parents.
The stadium announcer had been droning on for a while and Hermione had tuned him out, but he got her attention by saying, 'And now, we proudly present ... the Chudley Cannons!' He announced the players one by one, starting with Ryan. Naturally there were loud shrieks from his school mates, and Hermione did the same, but she was surprised to see his parents only clapping politely. She supposed they were accustomed to seeing him fly.
The cheers were deafening when Harry was announced, and Hermione felt a swell of pride for him. When the applause finally died down, Lucinda said, 'Well there he is, in the flesh.'
'Harry, you mean?' asked Hermione.
'Who else? The Saviour of the Wizarding World. What does that make you, then? The Saviour of the Saviour of the Wizarding World? From what I hear, he couldn't have done it without you.'
'And we couldn't have done it without Harry,' said Hermione, feeling compelled to defend him.
'No, of course not. It's tremendous what he pulled off, and with so many obstacles. No, the thing that gets me is how thoroughly the adults in his life failed him.'
Hermione could hardly disagree. 'Yes, that's been hard for my parents to accept as well. They still don't understand why Harry had to rely on Ron and me ever since our first year at Hogwarts.'
'You've identified half the problem right there: Hogwarts. A new Defence instructor every year? A ghost teaching History? A Potions Master who had to abuse the students in order to maintain his cover as a spy? Widgington might not have Hogwarts' reputation, but I'll take the education I received there over a Hogwarts diploma any day of the week.'
Hermione was torn. She agreed with everything Lucinda was saying, but she also felt loyalty towards Hogwarts, and to Minerva in particular. 'It's actually improved tremendously in the last year,' she said. 'I returned after the war to finish my studies, and it's like an entirely different school. Minerva McGonagall, the new headmistress, forcibly retired Professor Binns—the ghost—and his successor is terrific. And the Defence professor is engaged to return in September.'
Lucinda gave a crisp nod and said, 'I'm glad to hear it. But that doesn't erase the fact that Albus Dumbledore was grossly negligent as headmaster, amongst other things.'
Again, Hermione couldn't argue. 'You're right, of course. But it's hard for me to imagine the alternative, since that's the hand we were dealt. I realise now there were probably better schools for me than Hogwarts but that's where I wound up, by random chance I suppose.'
'Random chance had nothing to do with it,' said Lucinda. 'The Department of Mysteries decides which schools Muggle-borns attend.'
'I'm sorry, what?'
'No one ever told you that? Yes, it's an open secret that the DOM assigns schools to Muggle-borns and anyone else without a family history.'
Hermione was dumbstruck. How had she never heard about this before? You didn't know there were other schools until a fortnight ago, came the answer.
But why was she assigned to Hogwarts, when the odds vastly favoured her being sent to one of the other schools? Had she been destined to assist Harry? Could there even have been a prophecy? There was no way to find out—they'd destroyed most of the prophecies back in '96—so it would probably remain a mystery.
In a kinder voice than before, Lucinda said, 'I can see I've upset you. I'm sorry—it must be overwhelming to learn something like that, particularly in the stands at a Quidditch match. Walter is always telling me I'm too blunt.'
'No,' said Walter, 'I've given up telling you. It doesn't seem to have any effect.' Lucinda laughed, and Walter continued. 'Hermione, you mustn't let Lucinda browbeat you. She missed her calling as a barrister and takes it out on the rest of us.'
'I wasn't browbeating her—she's clearly made of sterner stuff than that. And certainly Ryan has no use for a pushover.'
This really is an extraordinary conversation, thought Hermione. 'I should congratulate you on Ryan,' she said. 'He's like no other wizard I've met, particularly when it comes to interacting with Muggles. I wish I'd maintained the balance as well as he has.'
'It hasn't been easy, as I'm sure he's told you,' said Lucinda. 'But yes, I'm proud that he embodies the best of both cultures. I detest how idle and intellectually sloppy most wizards are. That's part of why I had to look farther afield for a husband,' she added, with an admiring look at Walter.
'How did that even come about? Where did you two meet?'
'I participated in a co-ed football club, and we met through that,' said Lucinda. 'I refuse to accept that Quidditch is a proper sport, when they're sitting on brooms the entire time. Chasers and Beaters aren't so bad, but Seekers might as well be sitting on a sofa holding a remote control.'
Hermione noticed several other fans glaring at Lucinda. This was not the best setting to malign Quidditch, and the implied insult towards Harry seemed particularly unwelcome—two of the fans were wearing jerseys with his number.
Lucinda continued. 'Walter was still finishing his studies at Trinity College, which impressed me already, and he was a marvel on the football pitch. I told myself it was enough to date him casually—enjoy a bit of forbidden fruit before settling down with a proper wizard. But before I knew it I was hooked.'
'Walter, how did you react when you found out she was a witch?'
'She didn't tell me for a long time, not until we were fairly serious.'
'I waited until we were in too deep for him to back out,' admitted Lucinda. 'I told him I had a terrible secret—made it sound like I was dying of cancer or something—and then I sprang it on him. He was furious of course.'
'Furious you were a witch?' asked Hermione, appalled.
'No, I was furious at how magic completely upended the laws of nature,' said Walter. 'With a flick of her wand, she threw conservation of mass completely out the window!'
Hermione laughed. 'My parents had the same reaction to Professor McGonagall's demonstration, when I first received my Hogwarts letter.'
'I showed Walter some wizarding currency,' continued Lucinda, 'and he immediately crafted a diabolical plan to exchange pounds for Galleons and then exchange the gold for pounds, ad infinitum. But apparently the goblins have protections against that sort of thing.'
'Bloody goblins,' grumbled Walter. 'Thwarting my ambitions to become a Bond villain. I'd have made a good one, you know.'
Hermione wasn't sure how to ask her next question—whether Lucinda had worried their children wouldn't be magical—when they were deafened by a roar from the crowd.
Annie gripped Hermione's arm. 'What in Merlin's name is Harry doing?' Harry was flying like a Bludger through a knot of Chasers and then did a hairpin turn around one of the goalposts.
The announcer's voice rose about an octave in pitch when he said, 'And Potter forces a turnover—Rogers takes the Quaffle! By Merlin, that has to be the most astonishing feint I've ever witnessed!'
'Now that was impressive,' said Lucinda. 'He certainly put down the remote control for that one.'
Hermione felt vindicated—Harry wasn't just another idle wizard. From then on they were too riveted by the match for serious conversation. The Cannons Chasers did a magnificent job, led once again by Ryan, and every five or ten minutes Harry dazzled the spectators with a death-defying feint.
'Is your Harry all right in the head?' asked Lucinda. 'That's not how a sane person flies.'
'No, he's fine. Ryan warned me about this—it's a new strategy they've been working on all week. Apparently Harry is the rare Seeker who can fly like a maniac but still manage to find the Snitch, so they're making the most of it.'
Hermione allowed herself to enjoy the match as she'd done the week before, partaking in the crowd's energy and the sheer adrenaline of the flying. She was tempted to have Ryan take her up on a broom again later, but the weather was dreary and he'd probably be exhausted anyway.
'I must say, he's made Quidditch a good deal more exciting,' said Walter. 'Once you get past the "flying on broomsticks" aspect, the game has more than its share of flaws. But this is surprisingly entertaining.'
'Yes, but it's all for naught if Harry doesn't catch the Snitch,' said Lucinda. 'What a ludicrous sport.'
'Don't you approve of Ryan's career?' asked Hermione. She knew she was prying, but Lucinda seemed capable of telling her to mind her own business.
'It's fine for a while,' said Lucinda. 'Thank heaven it's not long-term, and I'll let him have it if he ever turns into one of those washed-up ex-flyers who stuff themselves into their old robes to attend Quidditch conventions.'
Hermione chuckled, thinking of Ludo Bagman. 'I really can't picture that. He told me he's keen to resume his studies.'
'Yes,' said Walter. 'He's a chip off the old Spoonwocket in that respect. Lucinda actually received a letter from one of his Charms examiners, praising his ability.'
'They didn't address it to you as well?' asked Hermione.
'No, I'm a trained monkey as far as the Ministry of Magic is concerned. One of these days I might hurl faeces at them, just to prove their point.'
Hermione laughed and said, 'My dad will enjoy meeting you. He's had the same complaint about how wizards treat him, although I think he compared himself to an exhibition at the World's Fair.'
'Wizards really are shockingly arrogant,' said Lucinda, 'especially considering how helpless we are without a wand. It's the goblins and house-elves we should admire.'
People were glaring at Ryan's mother again, but Hermione was delighted. 'Thank you! It's my dream to improve the status of house-elves. The whole reason we won the war was because of a free elf named Dobby who sacrificed his life to rescue us.'
'Really?' said Lucinda. 'Why wasn't that in the Prophet?'
'Not for lack of trying on my part—I described the incident in detail during every interview. But nobody seems to care.'
'Well keep trying, if only to make wizards ashamed of themselves for being bested by a house-elf.'
Hermione found herself admiring Ryan's outspoken mother. 'What kind of work do you do, Lucinda? The Ministry could use people with your convictions.'
'The Ministry?' she scoffed. 'I doubt I'd survive a week there ... That's the last place for anyone with a backbone.'
Walter cleared his throat. 'Lucinda dear, I believe Hermione works for the Ministry.'
'Yes, I'm part of a task force to explore moving inter-species diplomacy to the DMLE from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.'
'A task force to explore it?' said Lucinda. 'Why do they need a task force? It should be a no-brainer. Which, come to think of it, makes it a perfect project for the Ministry.'
'Lucinda has a bit of a grudge against the Ministry, over the war,' explained Walter.
'Nonsense, my grudge long predates the war. Remember how they gave us trouble about hooking up to the Floo network when we were first married? Or how they didn't want to register Ryan's birth until he'd proven himself magical? Or when he did turn out magical, and they sent a sort of social worker to advise us on severing ties with your family?'
'Are you serious?' asked Hermione.
'Dead serious. The Ministry can go hang themselves as far as I'm concerned. No offence.'
If the match hadn't been so riveting, Hermione suspected people would have just sat around listening to Lucinda. She was starting to understand why Ryan was nonplussed by her own occasionally terrifying behaviour.
It had finally stopped raining, and she noticed Lucinda using a Drying Charm on her husband. Hermione liked that he wasn't stubbornly proud about that sort of thing, as her parents sometimes were.
She was amazed that the crowd hadn't thinned at all, in spite of the weather. But it was the most exciting Quidditch match she'd ever seen, and both Harry and Ryan deserved a lot of the credit. During one feint, Harry nearly knocked Ryan off his broom, but Ryan performed an exceptionally agile Sloth Grip Roll and still managed to catch the Quaffle and score a goal afterwards. Even his parents were impressed with that one.
But still no Snitch. 'Come on, people,' said Lucinda. 'Wrap it up. A game with a proper clock would have ended by now.'
More glares from their neighbours, and Annie leaned over and whispered, 'Lucinda is something of a legend among Cannons followers—the Official Fan Club newsletter regularly prints her overheard comments. And during a match last year I was convinced the fans behind us devised a drinking game around her.'
Hermione smiled, wondering if there were some way to introduce her to Walburga. 'I'm glad you gave me a heads-up,' she said quietly. 'She's truly unique.'
Yet another feint from Harry drew loud cheers from the crowd. He zoomed low to the ground, and Hermione flinched when he nearly crashed into Ryan again, but then he slid to a halt across the wet earth and triumphantly raised his closed fist.
'Potter's got the Snitch!' cried the announcer. 'Cannons win 310-70!'
Everyone screamed in excitement, and even Lucinda looked impressed. 'Well there's something you don't often see,' she shouted over the din.
'A Cannons victory, you mean?'
'Exactly. Well done, Potter,' she said with grudging admiration. 'It appears you're not just a one-trick pony.'
Hermione wasn't sure she'd describe Harry's defeat of Voldemort as 'one trick,' but she appreciated Lucinda's praise. 'He's an incredibly hard worker,' she said, 'and a gifted flyer of course. Joining the Cannons has made such a difference to his life.'
'I suppose it would,' said Lucinda, speaking loudly to be heard above the crowd's victory chants. 'He deserves a holiday more than anyone. You probably do too, but hopefully Ryan can help with that.'
Hermione's eyes shot open but she quickly regained her composure—surely Lucinda hadn't meant what Hermione had inferred. She joined the crowd's raucous chanting to avoid further conversation, and eventually they filed from their seats to the stairs.
'Will you come down to the pitch?' Hermione asked them.
'No,' said Lucinda. 'It's always a long wait with the reporters. We can congratulate him tomorrow when he picks up the car. Will you accompany him?'
'Yes, I'm to show him the way to Harry's house. We're transporting Ryan's stereo for a party next weekend.'
'So I hear,' replied Walter. 'My first concern was that he couldn't go a week without it, but he assured me he has another one in his bedroom.'
Hermione smiled; she had plans involving Ryan's bedroom that night, and music would surely enhance the experience.
Before leaving the stadium, Lucinda turned to Hermione and said, 'Very nice to meet you. Obviously we admired you previously, but I can certainly see why Ryan is taken with you. And I'm glad you're not just a Quidditch groupie or celebrity chaser. After all, you're a good deal more famous than he is.'
'I've enjoyed meeting both of you as well,' replied Hermione, trying not to think about the 'Quidditch groupie' phenomenon and how it might apply to Ryan. Harry had reported back to her that Ryan had a spotless reputation, but she wouldn't enjoy seeing witches throw themselves at him as they were starting to do with Harry.
After saying goodbye to Ryan's parents, Hermione accompanied Annie and Ryan's other friends down to the pitch. They had to wait a while, but it was an opportunity to catch up with Ginny and the other Weasleys.
'Hermione,' said Molly warmly. 'It's good to see you. How are you?' She asked the question with obvious concern.
'I'm doing well, thanks for asking. And how are you doing?'
'Other than having palpitations about Harry's flying this afternoon, all's well. We've got Charlie here for the weekend, which is lovely.' She lowered her voice and said, 'Gabrielle is staying with Bill and Fleur, and she's something of a menace. It'll be a relief when she leaves in a week.'
'Oh, what's the matter?'
'It's Veela puberty. No spots, of course, but enough hormones to take down an army. Tomorrow at Sunday dinner I suspect I'll need to use an Aguamenti charm on Ron, George, or both.'
'She's fourteen!' said Hermione, shocked.
'It's the allure,' explained Arthur. 'She can't control it. Back when Fleur's mother was a teenager they sent her to a convent for a couple of years, but apparently that's no longer the practice.'
Hermione was uneasy, recalling her promise to bring Ryan to Shell Cottage for dinner. Would he really be unable to control himself around Gabrielle?
'But enough about Veelas,' continued Arthur. 'How are you doing? We're all terribly disappointed you won't be part of the family, at least not officially. But I hope you know you're always welcome, once things settle down.'
'Thank you,' said Hermione, touched. 'I'm doing better than I expected, actually.' She looked down and added, 'I've started seeing someone else.'
'Blimey,' said Ginny, who had just arrived. 'Who is it? Anyone I know?'
Hermione kept her eyes down, mostly to hide her expression. 'Ryan Bellamy.'
'You're dating Ryan Bellamy? The Ryan Bellamy, right over there?' exclaimed Ginny. 'Talk about a serious upgrade from Ron!'
'Ginny!' cried Molly. 'Don't talk about your brother that way.'
Arthur looked flustered but said, 'I'm glad to hear you're doing well, Hermione. Naturally we wish you all the best.'
Ginny tugged on Hermione's arm and said, 'Come on, Granger. Spill.'
They walked a few steps away from the others and Ginny quickly raised a privacy ward. 'When did all this happen?'
'Only a week ago. But I've seen him several times now, and we'll be together this evening, and tomorrow as well.'
'This evening and tomorrow or this evening into tomorrow?' asked Ginny. 'There's a considerable difference.'
Hermione felt herself blush and said, 'The latter, I suspect.'
Ginny looked at her appraisingly. 'I'll admit, I hadn't pegged you for the man-candy-on-the-rebound type, but you can't do better than Ryan Bellamy.'
'It's not rebound, and he's not man-candy. Well, not primarily,' she said with a smile. 'He's actually quite wonderful.'
'Why, you're lovesick! I can't believe it, but I'm delighted for you.'
'Thanks, I'm awfully happy. We both are. I can introduce you in a few minutes, and he'll be at Harry's party as well.'
'Harry's party, yes! You could have knocked me over with a feather when I received the invitation. A portkey no less! Does that mean I've been removed from the wards?'
'No, I'm sure it's so you can bring a guest. Do you know who you're bringing?'
'I haven't decided yet—I assume everyone we know is already invited?'
'Pretty much, except for people like Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode, and also troublemakers like Cormac MacLaggen and Romilda Vane.'
'You mean I can't invite Romilda?' said Ginny with mock disappointment. 'She sent me an owl last week expressing outrage I hadn't told her Harry and I had split up.'
'What was it like for you, seeing Harry in the Prophet with another woman?' asked Hermione.
'You mean half of another woman? I'm glad he's moving on, though I never expected to see him wearing Malfoy robes in front of a chichi restaurant. Do you know who she is?'
'No,' said Hermione, who had never been so tempted to spread gossip. I only know she's the second witch in two weeks, she thought. 'And how are you doing?'
'Really well, thanks. I just signed with the Holyhead Harpies, as a reserve Chaser.'
'Sweet Merlin! All my friends are becoming professional Quidditch players! Who can be next?'
'Luna, I'm thinking,' said Ginny, and they both laughed.
'Congratulations! I know how much Harry's enjoying it, and you deserve a break as well.'
'Cheers, I'm looking forward to it.' A Cannons staff member lowered the ward that was preventing them from accessing the pitch. 'Which way are you headed?' asked Ginny. 'Towards Harry or Ryan Bellamy?'
'Towards Ryan. Would you like to meet him?'
Ginny nodded eagerly and they walked over to Ryan. 'There you are,' he said when he saw Hermione. 'I tried finding you in the stands but they were so packed I couldn't make anything out.'
'Don't I get a kiss?' she whispered. 'Or are you keeping me a secret?'
'I just didn't want to get you all sweaty,' he said. 'I've been playing for hours.'
'I don't mind at all,' she replied, wrapping her arms around him and tilting her head upwards so he could kiss her properly.
'Rowr!' growled Ginny.
Ryan and Hermione turned towards her, and Hermione said, 'Ryan, this is Ginny Weasley. Ginny, this is Ryan.'
'Nice to meet you, Ginny. Hermione's told me a lot about you.'
'She's just signed as a Chaser with the Holyhead Harpies,' said Hermione.
'Reserve Chaser,' corrected Ginny.
'That's fantastic, congratulations! I hear it's a wonderful organisation.'
'Thanks, that's my hope.'
He turned to Hermione and said, 'I can't get out of going to the Cracked Spyglass this afternoon—Renée made me promise. Would you like to accompany me, or should we meet up afterwards? I should warn you, it'll be extremely raucous ... The fans are probably hammered by now. We don't need to stay long, maybe half an hour.'
'That's fine, I'm happy to join you.'
'Now I've seen everything,' said Ginny. 'Hermione heading to a pub full of rat-arsed Cannons fans? You should be flattered, Bellamy—she never would have gone there with Ron, not in a million years.'
'I'm flattered she even gives me the time of day,' he said admiringly. 'But I should go talk to my mates ... See you soon.'
He turned to his other friends and Ginny pulled Hermione towards the crowd of Weasleys waiting to talk with Harry. 'Hermione, he's madly in love with you already, I can just tell. And you're nearly as far gone too. I can't believe it.'
'Neither can I,' said Hermione, blushing. 'His father's a Muggle, you know. So we have that in common as well.'
'I'm so glad. I know old Arthur was a bit of a challenge for your parents.'
'He was, I'm afraid. Are you here to speak to Harry?'
'Yes,' said Ginny. 'It'll be the first time since we split up. I thought somewhere public would be better, and of course he ought to be in a good mood.'
'I should think so! He really is doing surprisingly well, though I know he still misses you.'
'I miss him too. There's a part of me that can't believe I let him get away.'
'What, after trying so hard to catch him in the first place?'
'Partly. But he was also incredibly devoted. He made me feel like I was everything in the world to him. It was a powerful ego boost, to have the Boy Who Lived looking at me like I was the sun, moon, and stars.'
'Right, but he's not the Boy Who Lived,' said Hermione.
'No, he's not. He's a man who never had a proper family, and was either neglected or manipulated by all the adults in his life. And that's not counting the ones who were trying to kill him.'
Hermione nodded. 'It's rather overwhelming when you state it like that, but you're right. I tend to forget because he's so good at holding himself together.'
'He is,' agreed Ginny. 'But Merlin, when he lets his guard down ... There's a kind of yawning need ...' She looked around and used her wand to fortify her privacy charms. 'Sorry, we don't need Rita Skeeter listening in. Poor Harry is desperate to be whole—and why shouldn't he be, after everything he's been through? But I couldn't do it for him. Not without losing myself.'
They glanced at Harry, who was shaking hands with Percy of all people. 'For a while I found it intoxicating—his intensity that is. Particularly right after the battle, when Fred and everyone else had died. It was an incredible escape. And the sex—that was hard to let go of. But after a while I found our relationship draining. I just couldn't be Harry Potter's backstop for the rest of my life, and that's where things were headed.'
'Why didn't you mention any of this before?' asked Hermione.
'I don't think I fully realised it until after we split,' said Ginny. 'At the time I just had a deep, nagging sense that he wasn't right for me, and that I wasn't right for him either. And that we were growing apart.'
'Yes, that's what you told me.'
Ginny sighed. 'Anyway, I'll probably go down in history as the daft cow who discarded her chance at becoming Lady Black. But I'm certain my children will thank me—it won't be easy growing up in his shadow.'
'No, probably not,' replied Hermione.
Ginny looked over at Harry, who was talking with Hagrid. 'It looks like he's out of Weasleys ... I should talk to him next. You should probably go after me, just in case.'
'Good luck, and congratulations again on the Harpies.'
'Cheers, and I'll see you next weekend at the party, if not sooner.'
Hermione observed Harry from a distance as he spoke with Ginny, and she could see his yearning expression. The fact that he was covered in mud made him look especially like a little boy. Poor Harry, she thought. He's probably the envy of every wizard in Britain for one reason or another, but he'd trade it all just to have his parents back, or even Sirius.
She knew he needed more than she could provide as his friend, but Hermione hoped he drew at least as much strength from their friendship as she did. Dumbledore was right, she mused. He really does have a good heart.
Ginny had gone, and Harry was standing alone with a slightly lost expression until he saw Hermione and regained his normal affect. She congratulated him on the match and they chatted a bit before he left to wash up. She knew Ryan would return to find her soon enough, and then the evening she'd been planning could begin. It seemed ironic that everything would start at the Cracked Spyglass, which symbolised All Things Ron, but she'd be with Ryan the entire time.
She knew she'd already fallen for him. The last piece slid into place on Wednesday night, when she read Harry's owl confirming that Ryan was on the level. And now that she'd met Lucinda, Hermione understood why Ryan seemed unintimidated by her own power. She wouldn't need to contain herself as she'd done with Ron for fear of stepping on toes.
She realised she was still wet and rumpled from the rain, so she tidied herself with a few charms and restored her ringlets. She was still wearing Cannons orange, which she refused to believe suited her—or anyone else for that matter—but it reminded her of Ryan now, and that made it the most glorious colour she could imagine.