Spring : Harry and Ginny

She could see it clearly in her mind.

Every swoop, every dive, every dodge – it looks rough, but it takes concentration and so much control – is right in place and right on time. She can see the other girls (women, she has to remember, she's a woman now) on either side and she can feel the Quaffle pressed against her hip, wrapped in the crook of her arm. The goal posts are glimmering halos looming in the distance, approaching with an alarming speed.

But no, she's the one doing the moving, she's in control. The Keeper makes eye contact (she's being underestimated again, and it sends her blood boiling) and before either of them can even contemplate taking another breath, the Quaffle is zooming through the hoop and her ears are full of the wild roar of the crowd.

Ginny opened her eyes and took in a deep breath of the cool spring air. The practice pitch behind The Burrow was beneath her as she glided lazily around on her new broomstick. It was a Comet 340, the newest model on the market. She hadn't believed it when her parents had handed her the sparkling racing broom with her name etched in gold along the rosy wooden handle. But then again, it wasn't every day she got scouted to the Holyhead Harpies.

It was a complete and total shock. Of course, being a professional Quidditch player was a dream she'd held for years, but nothing that she had ever actually expected. After helping Gryffindor win the House Cup the previous month (and being undefeated to boot), she had been approached by none other than Gwenog Jones herself. It had taken all of Ginny's self control to not hyperventilate on the spot.

Spring was the time for new beginnings, she supposed. Hogwarts was done, her N.E.W.T.S were over (finally), and she found that she was fairly ready for anything that thought to come her way. Tomorrow was her first practice with the team. All of her initial insecurities had been replaced by excitement, and she couldn't wait to zoom on to the pitch and see the crowd, along with her family and friends, all cheering her on to victory. She swooped through one of the hoops, looping and darting around the field. The wind rippled through her mane of fiery hair and she was smiling so wide that she was sure her jaw would be sore in the morning.

Her instincts kicked in as the sound of a Quaffle flying through the sky met her ears. Without blinking she snagged it from the air, looking around deftly to find her opponent.

She didn't have to look far.

"I'd say you're ready," he called, circling her spot slowly on his broom. The lazy grin on his face matched his scruffy hair and she couldn't help but laugh.

"Yeah, I'd hope so. You and Ron have been running me through the wringer with drills all week."

Harry pulled up next to her, and under closer inspection she could see sleep pulling on his eyes. "How's the Auror training?"

"Nearly finished," he sighed, and she could hear the excitement in his tone. "The tests are in a month. I just hope I'm ready, you know?"

She rolled her eyes and punched him lightly on the shoulder. "You've been more than ready for two years now. You'll be fine."

"Yeah, I suppose." His cheeks flushed and she laughed again, angling her broom downward.

"How about we go see about supper?"

His face lit up with a look she identified as 'hungry bear mode'. "That sounds amazing. You're mum is the best cook on the planet."

"You're telling me!"

They landed and she instantly threw herself into his arms. She supposed that he was more tired than she had originally thought, because instead of keeping his balance like he normally did, they both went crashing to the ground.

Ginny quickly rolled off of him and gave him a panicked look. Instead of being injured, his eyes were sparkling like emeralds in the sunlight, good humor etched into his features. "You take my breath away," he said in a sappy tone, pretending to swoon dramatically.

Rolling her eyes, she helped him sit up. "Corny."

"Yeah. You love it."

"I love you, you mean."

For a moment he looked at her seriously, and the intensity in his eyes caused her heart to flutter against her ribs. "I love you too," he replied, holding out his hand. She took it, unsure of what exactly he had in mind. "And I'll always love you."

"Yeah…" Ginny was even more confused when he reached into the pocket of his robes and pulled out his moleskin bag. Digging around in it clumsily with one hand, he seemed to find what he was seeking.

"Look, I was going to wait, but now seems to be as good a time as any." Suddenly she had a hunch as to what he was gripping in his fist, and she couldn't breathe properly. "I know we're young, and I don't really know what your parents will say, but-"

"Yes!" she blurted out. Instantly her free hand shot up to cover her mouth, her face burning with embarrassment.

Harry looked at her blankly for a moment, and then started laughing. "I'm glad to know your answer. Makes asking a bit less stressful, I suppose." He opened up his hand. Sitting in his palm was a small silvery ring with a round yellow diamond mounted squarely in the middle.

Grinning, he slid the ring on her finger. Still in shock, all she could do was look between Harry and the ring, which under closer inspection had a delicate wing carved on to each side of the stone. It was a snitch, she realized after a moment.

"Marry me, Ginny Weasley."

And since she had already answered, all she could do was launch herself at him again. This time she wouldn't let him up so easily.

The spring winds were blowing, the sun was shining, and Ginny was ready – for a new life, as a professional Quidditch player and as Mrs. Harry Potter.