A/N: Originally written for Hermione's Haven Drabble Elimination Challenge

Tags: LGBTQ Female Character, LGBTQ Themes, Pride

Disclaimer: All canon character, plots, and situations from the Harry Potter series belong to JK Rowling. I am not profiting from this writing.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Her name still echoing around the stadium, she dropped the Firebolt into a vertical dive, bursting through the clouds and spinning rapidly. She saw the rest of the team in a loose circle below her, all plunging downwards too. The coach hated them doing this, always said she just had visions of her messing it up and watching their star player get spread across the pitch in a brutal display of gore. The Harpies' fans loved it!

So did she.

Her hair was fire in the late sunshine, free and unconfined; how she felt at these moments, how she felt when she was with her lover.

She hated Ginny doing this stunt too, but at least she understood the freedom from her home life this, and the sport, in general, gave her. Her 'boyfriend' knew Quidditch, loved it but had given it up in his drive for promotion. Now it was just something to be occasionally enjoyed, her hobby. It was the last thought that caused arguments between them. She was being scouted to play for England this year, and he still referred to it as her hobby.

The spectators' screams of excitement reached her over the rush of the wind, and she couldn't stop the smile, the surge of pleasure. Boyfriends could wait. Well, boyfriend for now, at least.

Leaning forward over her broom she unhooked her legs, released it completely, and spread her arms. The screams reached fever pitch as wind resistance slowed her enough to let the broom move ahead.

The witch plummeted to the ground, pivoting slowly in the rushing air and dropping through the circle of her team. The stadium hushed as Ginny pulled her arms in: a Harpy in free fall.

Arms close to her body, she accelerated, gaining on her broom once more. This was the bit that gave her butterflies, and she quickly wiped her hands on her uniform and whispered a sticking charm.

Reaching out, the ground dangerously close now, Ginny grasped the shaft of her broom. The Firebolt levelled off, the witch flipping downwards, hanging beneath it as she willed the broom to slow.

Fireworks, launched from her teammates, burst around her as she landed on one knee, fist to the ground, head bowed, broom clutched above her head. The rest of the Harpies landed beside her, perfectly timed, and the crowd exploded with cheers.

"They never get tired of it, do they?" Gwenog said in an undertone, the whole team grinning and waving to the crowd.

The Minister called for silence, standing to address the crowd and the teams. It took a while till the noise level met expectations.

Ginny kept her eyes down as she straightened, seeing the Minister all the same. In truth, whenever the Minister spoke, it grabbed her attention, drew her eye. She struggled to keep her eyes away this time, not wanting to ruin the moment. She had an inkling of what was to come, and it set her heart racing.

"My friends, countrymen, fellow witches and wizards. Thank you for being here on this auspicious day! Before the match, I have a few words to say, and I beg your indulgence.

"We celebrate a way forward in this world, paving the way towards unity and acceptance at last. As you know, I have fought for change since I came to office and passed several laws promoting acceptance of Muggle-borns. I have never shied from a fight, and I won't start now! Our world has been far behind the Muggles in respect of acceptance of other genders and sexualities; we do not talk about it, but the prejudice is everywhere. Witches are not allowed to marry witches; wizards cannot marry wizards. Homosexuality, non-binary people, transgender folk… all of them considered a dirty secret, something to be shunned, hidden. Well, no more!"

The crowd roared in anticipation. Ginny looked around, her heart swelling, as she saw several women subtly holding hands, men glancing shyly at their 'friend' beside them: all of them had been told that they could not be their true self. Hundreds of them, even those that were not 'one of them' held flags, pennants, or were dressed in all the colours of the rainbow. This day was about acceptance. Pride.

"We recently passed a bill that repealed the law against same-sex marriage, several decades after the Muggles. The wizarding world is finally catching up! We still have a long road ahead of us, but we will no longer have to pretend, to hide behind false relationships. We can be ourselves at last!"

The Minister's words were drowned out in the roar that greeted this. When it finally subsided, Ginny dared to look around, seeing nothing but happiness all around in the crowd.

"I am here to announce that there are two couples that have asked to marry under the new law, and wanted your blessing. My dear friend, Harry Potter…"

The cheers reached fever pitch as Harry stepped up beside the Minister. He looked down at Ginny; she smiled up at her 'boyfriend', nodding to him; no more pretending.

"Harry has asked to be the first, pledging his open love for Draco Malfoy!"

The cheers from the crowd were slightly less uproarious for Draco, though still approving as the pair embraced.

"And one other, though I'm sure there will be more in the coming days…"

The Minister paused then, faltering. Nervous?

Ginny couldn't help it then. She turned her gaze to the Minister, finding those brown eyes already on hers, the beautiful, wild hair, those smiling and kissable lips that made the redhead feel alive like nothing, not even Quidditch, ever had. There was no need for cover stories any more, no hiding, no sham relationships.

"Ginerva Molly Weasley," Hermione called down as the redhead's heart swelled, fit to burst, blinking away her tears. "Will you marry me?"

Ginny kicked off from the ground, speeding into Hermione's arms as the stadium exploded with noise.

Notes:

The challenge had a word limit of 1k, so this is only a short little one-shot :)

The overall quote for the round was: "He stepped down, trying not to look at her, as if she were the sun, yet he saw her, like the sun, even without looking." - Anna Karenina