Title: Unrequited

Summary: Letting go of the cliff is easier when there's someone waiting to catch you.

Pairings: Ginny/Daphne; Charlie/fem!Harry [only mentioned]

Rating: T

Written for: Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition: Season Six, Round One (More details at the end.)

Beta-ed by: desertredwolf and magrud (Thank you for putting up with my last minute nagging!)

Warnings: Fem!Harry. Our dearest Potter is a girl, woman... You get it. And femslash. This is set in the Inevitable universe, but can be read as a standalone.

Disclaimer: JKR is a genius, let's bow down to her.


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Unrequited

(Or the one where Ginny decides to move on.)

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The pub's emptying out, and Ginny knows she should be heading home. She should have left some three hours back — Mum had asked her to be at the Burrow by eight for the rehearsal dinner — and yet, she's still here, drowning her sorrows in gin and tonic.

"Weasley, what are you doing here?" comes an inquisitive voice, and Ginny tries to hold a groan back. She fails miserably.

"Wow, I'm really chuffed to see you too, thanks for that greeting," Daphne continues, when that groan is the only response she gets. She proceeds to sit on the stool right next to Ginny's.

"I'll have whatever the lady's having," she says, signalling to the barkeep, before turning herself to face Ginny. Her knees bump against Ginny's thighs, and it feels gloriously warm.

Ginny chooses to ignore that tingling.

"You know you can talk to me, right? I don't have a dicto-quill right now, everything you say is off the record," she says a few moments later, as though that's supposed to comfort Ginny.

The perky blonde remains quiet for the next twenty minutes or so, much to Ginny's relief. Daphne sips at her drink demurely, the epitome of Pureblood etiquette, while Ginny sloppily slams down her glass for the fifth time and beckons for a refill.

"Are you sure you want to get this drunk in public, love?" she asks, as if she cares, and Ginny can't stand that faux concern.

"Don't call me love," she spits out, and watches as Daphne narrows her eyes. Huffing, she continues, "I have every right to get drunk if I want to. The season's over and Gwenog can't do shit."

Despite some of the words sounding slurred, Ginny's pretty sure the vitriol has been conveyed clearly. The last person she wants to spend tonight with is the pesky sports reporter of Witch Weekly.

"You might be having a rotten day, but that doesn't allow you to be nasty to me," Daphne says calmly, as if she's dealing with a toddler who's throwing a tantrum.

Ginny doesn't trust that tone; she's been a public figure long enough to know that even a few careless words to a reporter could effectively ruin a person's career.

She focuses instead on her own breathing, briefly wondering if one could 'bad-trip' on excess alcohol, and tries to ride the buzz. It's pointless though, because instead of numbing out the bitterness, her emotions feel razor sharp. She thinks she might be sick. Nope, she's definitely going to be sick.

In her hurry to get to the loo, she knocks over the stool she'd been sitting on, and trips on her own robes in the process. Miraculously, before her face can meet the floor, warm hands holds her up firmly, and she leans into the touch, even if it's that of Daphne's.

It feels reassuring, on this lonely night.

So when Daphne asks if she needs help walking, she says yes.


x


Ginny doesn't quite know how they've ended up here, sitting on a dingy wooden bench, eating fish and chips from some all-night place by the Thames. Summer is setting in, and the breeze which blows from over the river is warm.

The lack of conversation is nice, she thinks. If today had been a practice day, she'd have been with her fellow Harpies right now, having loud and raucous fun. If today had been a normal, off-season day, she'd have been spending her time either with Luna and Neville, or her family, or the guys, or Hyacinth.

Hyacinth.

Ginny's heart clenches, as she thinks of the raven-haired, green-eyed witch who's been the object of her affections from even before she realised she fancied girls. She's the one person, the only person, in fact, for whom Ginny would do anything.

And she's the very same person who is all set to marry Ginny's brother tomorrow.

"What do you want to do next?"

Ginny startles out of her angst ridden thoughts and turns to find Daphne looking at her patiently, expectantly.

"Er, what?"

Ginny finds that the greasy food in her system's made her a tad bit more sober, and with that, her recurring concern that this could all be a ruse to write an exposé makes itself present again.

"Or if you don't want to do anything, that's fine too?" Daphne says, her statement sounding question-like.

Deciding to grab the bull by its horns, Ginny looks the taller female square in the eye and asks authoritatively, "Why are you here? What are you getting out of this?"

"Oh, Merlin," Daphne mutters, before speaking up louder. "You looked miserable, sitting all alone, and I thought if I looked like that, I'd like someone to cheer me up, all right? That's what I'm trying to do, or distract you, at the least."

"Okay, but what are you getting out of this?" Ginny repeats her earlier question, narrowing her eyes in an attempt to read the other witch's body language and figure out her true intentions.

"You know you're being very Slytherin now, right?" Daphne says, jovially, like she's not a right bitch when it comes to tarnishing reputations.

"And you're acting like a Hufflepuff, which I know you're not. I don't trust you."

"I'm not claiming to be one, but the thing is, we Slytherins can be compassionate too, you know? We're not just made of ambition, steel and propriety. We're human too, and I know what it's like when the person you've fancied forever doesn't look at you that way. It's not fun, being invisible."

Ginny's blood freezes.

How does Daphne know?

How the fuck does Daphne Greengrass know?

The only people she's ever confided in are Hermione and Luna. Sure, the world knows she's bent and all that, but that it's always been Hyacinth for her? That's a closely guarded secret which Ginny's sure the wizarding population would love to eat up.

"How do you know?" she asks, her voice croaking. The paper which the meal had been wrapped in is crushed within her fist, and belatedly, she notices she's getting grease onto her palm. She spots a bin nearby, and her Chaser instincts kick in — the greasy paper ball lands perfectly inside the metal container.

When she turns back, the blonde looks uncomfortable, even as she replies, "I just do. I have brilliant skills of deduction and observation; that's what makes me good at my job."

Ginny forces breaths through her nose, and continues, "So is this blackmail? Or a warning that tomorrow, when I wake up, it'll be splashed across the Witch Weekly wedding special?"

"I've quit my job at Witch Weekly; resigned today, actually."

Daphne looks at her earnestly as she says that, and Ginny feels the slightest of misgivings.

"Oh?"

"I do have one last article to write, though. So I'll be there at the wedding."

"You're a sports reporter, not a society pages writer," Ginny says, bemused.

"Celebrity sports-persons, and mostly about their private lives; the editors didn't really like sports stats being included in a magazine that's supposed to cater to people who like glitz and glam."

The other witch says this with a sigh, and then casually vanishes the remnants of her meal with her wand, as if the Statute is not a real thing. But Ginny refuses to be distracted.

"You're going to be there at the wedding tomorrow, then?"

"Well, technically today, but yeah, I'll be there," she replies, nodding sagely. "Krum's going to be attending, and his PR team invited Witch Weekly to do the interview and photoshoot against the backdrop of the wedding."

"And what about your blackmail?"

"For fuck's sake, there's no blackmail, Weasley. I'm not always a nice person, but I have my moments too—"

It feels strange to hear Daphne cuss, and it seems wrong for those words to be coming out of a mouth like that. They're pale pink and lush, and Ginny thinks kissing them would be interesting. It's not that she wants to snog Daphne; it's just that she wouldn't mind kissing those lips.

"— I'm good company, you'll see. So see you in a few hours?"

Thanks to her preoccupation with the other witch's lips, she finds that she's missed out on most of whatever it was Daphne was saying. And she's now looking at Ginny expectantly, as if waiting for a response.

So she nods, and that seems to be an acceptable reply, because Daphne squeezes Ginny's shoulder briefly, and then Disapparates without even standing up.

An impressive skill, she notes.

Staring out into the twinkling lights in the distance, Ginny decides that it's probably high time she headed home.


x


Ten hours later, Ginny stands in the living room of the Burrow, nervously pressing her hands against the front of the satiny pale green dress, trying to remove any creases. The rest of the bridal party is upstairs, adding last minute touches to the Hyacinth hair and make-up — apparently, Ginny's the only one who thinks she's perfect the way she is.

Masochism, thy name is Ginny Weasley, she thinks wryly, just as the front door opens with a thud. Turning around, she sees that it's Daphne Greengrass, dressed in violet formal robes.

In the light of day, Ginny can't understand why she'd spent time with the vicious reporter in the first place. She'd even liked how peaceful it had been — and Ginny can't fathom why her drunk self would be more forgiving of Daphne than her sober self. This was the woman who'd ruined Oliver Wood's marriage.

"I should have realised that you'd be a bridesmaid," she says, and maybe she sees the surprise on Ginny's face, because she continues. "You have a bouquet of flowers with your name on it, and you're wearing the same dress that Granger is wearing."

Looking over to where Daphne had pointed, Ginny finds that it's the flower table, filled with bouquets and baskets, with identifying name cards.

"You're sharp," she says, grudgingly appreciative of Daphne's powers of observation.

"I need to be," Daphne replies, almost curtly, her eyes not meeting Ginny's.

There's a pause which lingers too long to not be awkward, and Ginny wracks her brain for something to talk about.

"Uhh, how was the Krum interview? What'd he have to say?"

"Just finished it, actually. And I still don't know why he wanted the interview here. I think he wanted to impress someone."

"I think I know who it might be," Ginny replies without thinking, before realising that Daphne's eyebrows have quirked up. "I'm not telling you," she warns.

Daphne smiles crookedly, before saying, "I'm not a Witch Weekly reporter anymore, so don't worry, I'm not going to pester you for Weasley family details."

Ginny gets the oddest feeling that Daphne knows who it is, and that she's merely humouring her. She loses that train of thought though, when Daphne stops smirking and adopts a serious look.

"I should be leaving now."

"You're not staying?"

"Angelina Johnson's promised to deliver me home in pieces if I'm not out by eleven sharp, and as much as I want to gatecrash the wedding of the Girl-Who-Conquered, I don't want to be dismembered for cheap thrills," she says, looking distractedly away.

Ginny knows that it's probably not an idle threat — Daphne had ruined the friendship between Angelina and Katie, pretty much irreparably, through that scathing quill of hers, and Angie was still baying for Daphne's blood.

Taking in a deep breath, Daphne looks her in the eyes and continues, "I just came here to tell you this. You are strong; you're a survivor."

Ginny's struck by how blue Daphne's eyes are. It's not a shade to be found in the Weasley family. It's a deep blue, with flecks of brown, and it's mesmerising.

"How do you know?" Ginny asks, her voice sounding fragile to her own ears.

"I know because I was there during the war, and I saw how brave you were. You stood up to the Carrows for what you believed in, and you didn't flinch at what could have been death. You didn't lose hope then; you shouldn't lose hope now.

"I'm not going to lie. The next few months are going to be shitty. Watching the one you want marry someone else is brutal. The thing is, life doesn't always give you what you want, and it takes great courage to move on from desires that are so deeply set that they've become a part of who you are.

"You're incredibly brave, Ginevra, and I have faith that someday, you'll be able to move on. You just need to have that faith in yourself."

Ginny doesn't know how, but somehow of their own volition, tears have pooled in her eyes, effectively blurring her vision.

"That wizard you said fancied forever? D-did you get over him?"

"Not a wizard, love. I'm not sure I if I ever got over her, I'm absolutely certain I still love her. But once you accept that things are the way they are for a reason, you do move on. Loving someone from afar isn't so bad. You learn that there's more than just one road to happiness."

"Thank you," Ginny whispers, and Daphne treats her to a sad little smile.

"I'd better go, I rather like all my organs just the way they are," she says. As she makes to leave, she takes something white out of her pocket, and presses it against Ginny's hand. Compared to Daphne's cool skin, her own feels clammy.

"Owl me when you're ready to move on, okay?" she says, before striding out gracefully.

A brief glance tells Ginny that the card is blank, but Daphne is gone before she can tell her that.

Ginny makes her way to the sofa and collapses upon it, creasing the dress be damned.


x


Alone again, Ginny's thoughts begin to spiral, the way they've been wont to do since she found out that Cinthy and Charlie were together. When those two had just been dating, she'd held on to the hope that maybe it wouldn't last, that maybe Hyacinth would wake up one day and realise she was madly in love with Ginny instead. But then they'd announced their engagement, and that was when Ginny had started perpetually feeling like she was being buried alive.

Sure, Daphne's words had been kind, inspiring even, but it doesn't hurt less just because she knows it will hurt.

Looking down at her hand, Ginny finds that the card, though stiff, is now creased at the edges, thanks to her using it like a stress ball. As she stares at it, words start forming, and for a moment, all she can think of is Riddle's diary. But the panic passes when she realises that the printed calligraphy is vastly different to Riddle's.

The elegant script reads, 'Daphne Greengrass, Private Investigator.'

A snort of laughter escapes out of Ginny before she can help it.

Flipping the card, she notes that there's a Vertic Alley address given. On the spur of the moment, Ginny decides that she'd like to be friends with Daphne Greengrass once again. Maybe when all of this is done and over with, she'll send the other witch a letter.

She sets the card down on the coffee table and is in the process of performing a sticky-charm, when an exuberant shout comes from the end of the staircase.

"Ginny!"

"Yes, darling?" she says, looking up, as Teddy changes the colour of his hair to match hers .

"Aunt Molly told me to tell you to come upstairs to the girls' room immeeeediately," he announces, his nose wrinkling in disgust when he says 'girls' room'.

"All righty, then," she says, watching in amusement as he starts marching up the stairs with his head held high. He pauses at the last stair and turns to glare at her, as if to ask her why she isn't right behind him yet.

Standing up, she smoothes her dress one more time, before making her way upstairs.

It's time to face the start of her future.

Maybe it's time to try moving on.


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Written For: Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition: Season Six, Round One

Word Count: 2688 (Not including the title, meta info, and my ramblings)

Prompt: Write a pairing you've never written before.

Position: Seeker, Puddlemere United


AN: In true Inevitable style, this story would be incomplete without a random list:

1. The modern stress ball as we know it was invented in 1988 by Alex Carswell. (I wonder what the history of a fidget spinner is.)

2. This is the first time I've written femslash, I hope I did it justice.

3. Ginny and Daphne are together in Inevitable – it's there if you squint your eyes and tilt your head.

4. Oooh, a little backstory: Yes, Ginny and Daphne used to be friends after a fashion. Maybe that'll be a future one-shot, hmm?

6. I skipped #5, did you notice?

7. Thank you Dez, for introducing me to this lovely pair, and thank you Dessie, for being a lovely captain. :D


Reviews are love!

(No, seriously, leave me reviews/prompts/ideas/anything and you'll get the femHarry/Draco you probably came here looking for.)