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SIYE Time:9:40 on 19th March 2024
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Natural
By Celtics534

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Category: Alternate Universe, Post-Hogwarts
Characters:Harry/Ginny
Genres: Fluff, Humor, Romance
Warnings: Extreme Language, Intimate Sexual Situations, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Situations
Story is Complete
Rating: R
Reviews: 61
Summary: Most things didn’t come naturally to Harry -- like brewing a Pepperup Potion or making a halfway decent treacle tart. In fact, the only thing that had come naturally was Quidditch… until he met Ginny Weasley.
Hitcount: Story Total: 55648; Chapter Total: 4279
Awards: View Trophy Room




Author's Notes:
Huge thanks to Arnel, TheDistantDusk, and gryffindormischief! They have been awesome editing this story!




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“So, it’s basically the Red Sea.” Harry pressed a kiss to the tip of Ginny’s nose as he crawled out from underneath the covers. “With the number of redheads I’ll see.”

Ginny had to resist smacking her own forehead. “More like a mob of red headed men that will want to burn you at the stake for deflowering their daughter slash sister.”

Harry, who had been chuckling at his own joke as he walked towards his nicely-folded Quidditch robes, stopped dead in his tracks. He whirled around to look Ginny, the fear of a thousand horrors in his expression. “Really?”

“I mean…” Ginny let her voice hang for a moment, and let the terror expand from Harry’s face to a nervous twitch of the hands before she finally took pity on him. “No, Harry. It’s fine. I’m grown-arse woman who can decide who I want to shag, and when.”

“I doubt they’ll see it that way,” Harry murmured, still showing some unease.

Ginny let out a little huff of air through her nose and hopped out of their shared bed as well. She ambled over to where Harry stood (in only a pair of pajama trousers with Snitches on them) and flicked him on the nose.

“It doesn’t matter what they think,” she reminded him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “It matters what I think. And it just so happens that I think you’re great.”

Harry placed his hands on her waist, squeezing ever-so slightly, and rested his head on her shoulder. “Well, at least one Weasley approves of me.”

“The most important Weasley,” Ginny agreed, kissing right behind his ear. She moved her hands down his shoulders, back, and onto to his backside, giving it a light slap. “Now go beat the Cannons so I can brag to Ron that my boyfriend kicked his team’s arse.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXX

“He didn’t even give them a chance!’ Ron complained for the fifth time that hour. The wireless still played in the background, broadcasting the Catapults and Wasps match. Every so often the announcers would gush over the incredible Cannons and Puddlemere game, where the Puddlemere Seeker had caught the Snitch in under five minutes.

The Weasley clan had gathered for their weekly lunch and listened to the game. Much to Ron’s chagrin, his team had been destroyed two-hundred-and-ten to zero. An hour after the final whistle, Ron was still bemoaning the loss.

“Honestly it shouldn’t be so much of a shock, Ron,” Fred said, placing a rather precarious Exploding Snap card onto the tower he and George were creating. “I mean, it’s the Cannons.”

“But Potter didn’t have to catch the Snitch so soon,” Ron pressed his argument. “He could have waited until we scored our first goal. From there, we would have been on a roll.”

“Sure you would have, Ronnie. Sure you would. Whatever helps you sleep at night.” George added his card to the stack.

“I think Potter should have let the game go on some,” Bill commented from his corner of the room. “I mean, the Cannons will be their easiest win, so why not drag it out a bit? Get some easy points, show boat.”

“Harry’s too much of a nice bloke,” Ginny commented without thinking as she flipped through last month’s Quidditch Weekly.

“Oho!” Fred let the card he was preparing fall out of his hand, making the tower burst into flames. “Harry, huh? How well do you know Puddlemere’s new star Seeker?”

Ginny made sure not to show any signs of fear; the twins would feed on it like a feast. She kept her magazine up and to a normal height and focused her gaze on the print. She had to fight with her natural body reaction to blush, and made sure her voice remained level and calm when she responded. “We met at training camp. Talked a few times, you know, discussing tactics and whatnot.”

She chance a small glance at the twins, who looked disappointed in her lack of reaction.

“Well, he seems like good competition.” Without looking, Ginny knew Bill was smiling as he spoke. After the last family lunch, Ginny had explained to her eldest brother about her and Harry. He had been delighted and more than willing to keep her secret.

“Are the Harpies nervous about him? He is two-and-oh now.”

Ginny looked up in time to catch Bill’s wink. “Nah, he’s only beaten inferior teams. Nothing like the Harpies.”

Fred and George let out simultaneous low whistles. “Damn, Ginny!” George started fanning his face. “Tell us how you really feel about Potter.”

It was at that moment a knock on the kitchen door sounded throughout the house. Ginny thanked whatever or whoever controlled coincidences, because Harry couldn’t have picked a better time to arrive.

The five Weasley siblings (Percy had decided to work and Charlie was in Romania) listened to the sound of their mother walking over to the door. The small creak of the hinges was barely audible over Molly’s surprised squeal.

“Hello.” The voice that only Ginny would recognize sounded as Harry came through the kitchen doorway. “I was invited here today by Ginny. Is she in?”

All the Weasley brothers, except Bill, turned to look at their sister in surprise. Ginny couldn’t prevent a grin -- which could only be described as wicked. She stood up as Harry and her mother walked into the room.

If her brothers had been in shock before…

“Hello, Ginny,” Harry said from the doorway. He had worn a hat in and had taken it off his head and placed it over his heart -- a nice touch, in Ginny’s opinion.

“Harry.” She kept her tone cool, aloof, but made sure her eyes stayed connected with his. She could practically hear her brothers’ brains trying to work out what was happening.

As they had previously discussed, Harry made his way into the room at Ginny’s wink. She met him halfway and he embraced her. Harry kissed her hard, his hands cupping her jaw as he held her close.

If she hadn’t been so preoccupied by the wonderfulness that was Harry’s lips, Ginny would have heard jaws hitting the floor.

“What the fuck?” Ron’s voice finally cut through the fog Harry had created around Ginny’s senses. She pulled back from Harry’s tantalizing mouth, though she kept her arms wrapped around his neck as she turned to look at her brother.

“What?” She put on a confused expression that she quickly replaced with a look of understanding. “Of course, silly me. You want an autograph from the man who just crushed the Cannons, right?”

Ginny’s sheer cheek seemed to break the twins’ reverie. Their jaws snapped closed as one and they came over, hands outstretched. “Fred and George Weasley,” Fred claimed as he shook Harry’s hand.

“Nice to meet you both.” Harry took George’s proffered hand next. “Ginny’s told me quite a bit about all of you.”

“All good things I’m sure,” George said, pretending to gush.

“I mean… sure.” Harry let out a small laugh to show he was kidding as moved over to Bill and shook both his and Fleur’s hands. “You must be Bill and Fleur.”

“Pleasure.” Bill smiled at his sister as Harry moved on to Ron.

“Sorry for destroying the Cannons today, mate,” Harry placed a hand on Ron’s shoulder. “I know they’re your team, but I couldn’t pass up such an easy catch.”

Ron’s mouth was still wide open. His eyes kept flickering back and forth between his sister and Harry.

Harry decided to move on, heading over towards Ginny’s mother. “I’m so glad to get to meet you all.” He offered his hand out towards Molly, who knocked it aside and pulled him into a tight embrace.

“I’m so glad Ginny’s found a good man to bring home!” Molly enthused. She released Harry after a solid five seconds, and moved back into the kitchen, presumably to create a plate for Harry (Molly never could let someone enter her house without offering at least a biscuit).

Harry turned back to the room of Weasley men and Ginny, his hand jumping to the back of his neck. “So what were we talking about?”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXX

Ginny couldn’t help but be impressed by Harry’s versatility. He could go from having a conversation with Fred and George about pranks his father and godfather used to pull, to discussing interesting Muggle inventions with her father. In other words, Harry had fully been inducted by the Weasley clan.

Ron had been the most hesitant to embrace Harry (Ginny had to assume based on Harry’s spectacular win over the Cannons), but after Harry expressed his interest in taking Ron to a pub the Cannons frequented, Ron’s frostiness melted.

Why had Harry ever been nervous? Ginny had to ask herself as she watched her family fall in love with the black-haired Seeker, almost as quickly as she had.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXX

Harry groaned as his stomach pitched again. Ever since he’d woken up three hours ago, he had felt nauseous. The only times he had left his bed were to use the toilet and to collect an owl from his coach, who’d canceled practice due to a team-wide flu epidemic.

Harry was so distracted by his own misery that he didn’t hear the sound of his Floo activating in the sitting room; he refused to open his eyes, even as he heard a snort from his doorway.

“Having a lazy day, Potter?” Ginny’s voice asked.

“Not quite.” Harry was shocked that he could choke out any words.

A coolness fell over his forehead, making him sigh. Ginny touch must have healing qualities, he thought...the pressure in his chest was weakening, even from the slightest touch.

“Merlin, Harry!” Ginny’s tone was one of concern. “You’re burning up.”

Harry cracked an eyelid to confirm Ginny’s worry.

“Only for you, baby,” Harry told her, reaching out a hand to touch her face. For some reason Ginny felt as cold as ice.

“Don’t go loopey on me now, Harry.” Ginny turned her head and kissed his palm. “But remember that when you’re not crazed on a fever.”

“It never seems to leave my mind.”

“Why is it that -” Ginny laughed lightly. “Fever Harry has game, but regular Harry gets tongue tied?”

“To be honest, I think it’s because my brain has died.” Harry made to sit up, but Ginny pushed him back with a hand to the chest. “My mouth has taken control, and if you want.” He wiggled his eyebrows in what he hoped was a seductive manner. “Feel free to bypass my command and take dominance of my lonely, lonely lips.”

“As tempting as that is.” Ginny backed away, but her lips were twitching in amusement. “I’m going to go and make you something to eat. Do you only have the fever or...” She let her question hang loose.

“Maybe just some toast.” Harry didn’t want give full disclosure about everything that had plagued him today.

Ginny seemed to understand the toast code because she nodded and pressed a quick kiss to his forehead before leaving the room. Harry flopped back onto his pillow, his eyes closing again. Yeah, toast was probably the most practical option…

Harry hadn’t released he had fallen asleep until much later. He let his eyes slowly open, waiting for his belly to roll. Nothing happened, which in Harry’s mind was a good thing. He turned his neck to the left, then to the right, trying to release some of the stiffness.

On his bedside table, Ginny had placed a warming charm over some dry toast and mug of tea.

If he hadn’t loved her before…

He sat up, giving his stomach another moment of peace, before grabbing the first slice of toast and taking a cautious bite.

“Ah, he lives!” Harry looked over at Ginny who was standing in his bedroom doorway. “How do you feel?”

“Okay. How long did I sleep for?”

Ginny made her way into the room and sat next to him in the bed, resting her back against the headboard like him. “I’d say about three hours. I was able to force a fever-reducing potion down your throat before you fell asleep, which seemed to help.”

“I don’t remember that.”

“That may be a good thing.” Ginny’s smirk was full of suppressed humor. “You said some extremely cheesy lines. You are such a flirt, Mr Potter.”

Harry shrugged. “Well, if I was on my deathbed, I would want to get at least one last leg over.”

Ginny laughed and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I would never deny a dying man.”

“I better keep you away from St Mungo’s then, because your options would be far too expansive.”

“Spoilsport.” Ginny put on a mock pout, but then said, “Anyway, your fever has dropped drastically and you’ve eaten something, so I’d say you’re on the mend.”

Harry relaxed into his pillow. “Thanks for taking care of me, Gin.”

“And here I thought you were gonna put on that ‘I’m too macho, I didn’t need help,’ bullshite act.”

“Why would I bother lying? You know me too well.”

“And don’t you forget it, Potter.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXXX

The Proposal, huh?” Ginny quirked a brow at her boyfriend, who was still on day two of bed rest (girlfriend’s orders). Ginny had stuck around to keep an eye on the ever-antsy Harry through his illness. They had watched movies, eaten soup and toast, and caught up on some much-needed sleep. Ginny hadn’t realized how worn out she had become over the last few months.

Between the meeting of parents last month and Quidditch, she had forgotten how it felt to laze about the house.

“It’s a good movie,” Harry defended quickly. “I mean Ryan Reynolds and Sandra Bullock… It’s the dream team.”

“I’ve never seen it, but I’m just shocked you want to watch a romantic movie.”

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with romance.” Harry flicked her nose. “I’m very romantic, I’ll have you know.”

Ginny flicked him right back. “You have your moments, I won’t lie.”

“So, we’re watching The Proposal. No more cheek from you, miss.” Harry placed the disk into his computer as Ginny laughed. They settled so their backs were against the headboard and the laptop sat between them. Ginny leaned her head onto Harry’s shoulder.

Just what the healer ordered, she thought as she scooted ever-so closer to Harry as the opening scene started.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXXX

“Weasley!” Jones’ voice called from her office. Both the first and second squads of the Harpies had finished their day of training. They were currently divided between the changing room and showers. Ginny, who had already taken her shower, was combing out her damp hair when Gwenog yelled.

“Come in here when you get the chance.” Jones walked away from her open door.

“Damn, girl.” Gina Hawkins let out a low whistle. “What did you do?”

“Nothing.” Ginny wracked her brain trying to remember anything she had done wrong in the last couple of sessions, but nothing came to mind. Actually, she had been playing better than ever. It had been like the cosmos had aligned just for her. She had been training well, her mother hadn’t asked her about marriage within the last month, and (going with the idea of marriage) her relationship with Harry had been nothing short of amazing.

Sure, there had been that hiccup when Harry had been ill a few months ago, but if anything that had brought them closer together. Lying about his flat, caring for him and him saying cheesy lines had made her love him more.

So with all of that, why the flying fuck would Jones need to see her?

Ginny placed her comb back on the top shelf of her locker and went into the office. The Harpies’ changing room had an open layout-- the lockers were on one side of the room, and the showers on the other. The only thing that divided the two sections was the basic square room that housed Jones and Guro (the manager).

The office had windows that faced the lockers, but had blinds that normally sat half closed to give the team a little privacy from the captain. Jones was sitting behind her desk, leafing through multiple documents. As Ginny got closer she could see every page had a different play explained.

“Alright, Ginny.” Jones looked up from her studies to look at her reserve chaser. “I’m going to be frank with you. None of this information leaves this room until I say so, got it?”

Ginny nodded, her curiosity growing with each passing second.

Jones picked up her wand and waved it at the door Ginny had left ajar, shutting it entirely. “Kaya Gia is going to be out for the rest of the season.”

“What?” Ginny couldn’t help but interrupt. Kaya was one of their better Chasers. Why would she be out for the remainder of the season? She hadn’t been hurt in the last game. Sure, she hadn’t been to practice in the last week, but Kaya had told Gale Hansen that she was ill.

“She informed me last week that she is pregnant, and her healer has warned her against playing. Apparently, she and David have been trying for quite a while, and they are an at-risk couple for miscarriage. She would rather be safe than sorry.” Gwenog rested her chin in her hand, keeping her eyes on Ginny. “I completely agree with her decision. However, that leaves us in a shite position. Guro and I have watched the reserve team closer over the last few days and we both agree you are the best choice to take Kaya’s spot.”

Ginny’s pulse started to speed up, almost as if she had run a mile. “Me?”

Jones let out a little snort. “Good to know you don’t have an over-inflated ego. Yes, you.”

Shock...shock and pride were the correct words to describe how Ginny was feeling. Out of the two other reserve Chasers, she had been chosen.

“Here’s the deal,” Jones said, pulling a yellow page from inside one of the drawers. “Guro and I want this to remain as close to hand as possible. So no telling anyone. No family members, boyfriends, girlfriends, anyone. The only people who will know will be: you, me, Guro, and the other first string Chasers, whom you will be training with over the next few days before our next game. Is that clear?”

Jones held Ginny’s gaze, eye’s never leaving hers. “Yes, ma'am!”

“Good.” Jones handed Ginny the yellow page. “Just sign this contract saying you won’t tell a soul until after your first game.”

Ginny took the quill Jones offered without hesitation. She signed her name on the x with unmatched speed.

Jones took back the parchment and signed it herself. “Great. So I want you to report here tomorrow morning at seven sharp, got it?”

“Yes, ma'am,” Ginny said again, standing from her chair. As she walked to the door, Ginny paused, a question that she should have asked before popped into her mind right as her hand touched the door knob. “Captain?”

“Yeah?”

“Who are we playing?”

“Ah, it will be a good game. Puddlemere always puts up a good fight.”
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