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narukoibito · 5 years ago

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charity work

Wow, so I wrote a published a thing after 10+ years away from fanfiction. Please check it out if you’re so inclined!

Summary: He'd only meant it as a joke, but here she was. Ginny Weasley, his celebrity crush, armed with economy toilet paper rolls and three dozen eggs, ready to commit a misdemeanor all in the name of charity. Muggle AU Harry/Ginny

Tumblr prompt: "You're famous and I jokingly left a comment on your social media post asking if you'll go egg my ex-partner's house with me this weekend, and I never actually expected you to respond, let alone show up Friday night with dark sweatshirts, toilet paper rolls, and three egg cartons tucked under your arm" & hp_fangal's version where Harry is the famous one, Shooting for the Stars.

FF.net | AO3

Harry flopped onto the couch with a loud sigh, letting his bag slide carelessly to the ground. Sirius popped his head out from the kitchen.

“You alright there, Harry?”

“I’m fine,” he mumbled from his dejected position.

Sirius raised an eyebrow and turned to Hermione, who lifted her head up from her book for a moment to give Harry a disapproving look.

“He’s been brooding all week,” she announced.

“Cho?” he asked knowingly.

“He hasn’t said, but…Cho,” Hermione nodded.

Harry made a rude gesture at his childhood best friend and godfather, who sniffed disdainfully and chortled respectively.

Yes, it was indeed his girlfriend — sorry, ex-girlfriend — who was once again souring his mood, but Sirius and Hermione didn’t know yet. He hadn’t had the heart to tell them that he’d caught her cheating on him with none other than Cedric Diggory. Not only had Cedric taken Harry’s position as a starter on the school team when Harry tore his ACL several months back, but then the recruiters who had originally come to see Harry had taken a shine to Cedric, and now several teams were making him offers. Hermione and Sirius had been going on for months about how Cho wasn’t being particularly supportive during Harry’s recovery period, but Harry had waved them off. Turns out they were more right than he could have imagined, and he simply could do without the knowing and pitying looks.

“This’ll cheer you up,” Sirius said, walking over to the wireless.

“I think something’s burning,” Harry grumbled as Sirius flicked through several stations. Sirius let out a yelp and jumped back to the kitchen, but not without first finding what he was looking for.

“Now tell me, Miss Weasley,” an unctuous female voice crowed, “about your victories off the pitch.”

Despite himself, Harry perked up. Ginny Weasley was his favorite football starter since she made a huge splash going pro at the young age of sixteen — and immediately proved her worth by leading her team to victory at her first game. He may or may not have several posters of her hanging in his closet.

“Oh you heard that I cook the meanest eggplant dish on the team?” Ginny’s sweet voice lilted over the wireless. When Harry laughed, Hermione peered at him over her book again, amused.

“That’s a very…lovely quality, my dear, but no, my avid listeners want to know all about your tumultuous love life. We all know how much you enjoy playing the field…”

Harry let out an ungraceful snort.

“I did always like playing with balls, yes,” Ginny quipped. “I’m pretty good at kicking them, so they say.”

The reporter cleared her throat loudly. “Too true. I believe one of your past paramours was reportedly found writhing on the floor when you parted ways.”

“Oh no, that was simply a handsy fan who didn’t seem to understand the meaning of ‘no,’” Ginny corrected her dryly.

“Your latest lover, Puddlemere team’s Michael Corner, and you seem to have had a bit of a nasty split,” the reporter’s voice oozed with false sympathy. “The photos of him and his assistant, Lavender Brown, in a passionate embrace ��”

“You mean snogging in the dark corner of a bar?”

“Oh this must be so difficult for you,” the reporter sniffed. “You seem to have such trouble holding onto a man — they seem to prefer more feminine women over your company! Tell me, does it have to do with your being raised with six older brothers? Perhaps the rowdiness of such a boisterous family environment was not conducive for healthy relationships with men?”

Harry threw a stray cushion at the wireless, but from his horizontal position, he missed.

“Miss Skeeter, I’m not sure how my upbringing has anything to do with my boyfriends deciding to be cheating gits rather than about being forthcoming about their feelings.”

“Of course, dear. Please, tell our listeners as such a seasoned veteran, how you cope with heartbreak, especially when you uncover such deceit?”

“I’m a big fan of karma. People tend to find that what comes around goes around.”

“So mature of you.”

“And if they wake up with their house egged and teepeed, let’s hope they realize the error of their ways.”

Harry could picture Ginny’s trademark mischievous smile, and he felt his own lips curling up.

“Surely, Miss Weasley, you aren’t condoning such a crime?”

“All hypothetical, Miss Skeeter. But who am I to complain if the universe takes it upon itself to serve justice? Having grown up with my brothers, I find that anything is possible if you have enough nerve.”

As the interview wound to an end, Harry felt inexplicably lighter. He even managed to shift himself to a sitting position and found himself scrolling through Ginny Weasley’s public Instagram profile. He was momentarily distracted by a recent posting of her sticking her tongue out at the camera while cuddling with a kitten, where she alerted her fans to tune into her upcoming interview with the radio host of Me, Myself, and I.

He punched in a simple message in the comments: Caught my girlfriend snogging my replacement on my uni’s football team while I was supposed to be convalescing, and now I want to help push karma along the way this Friday. Care to lend a hand?

“You’re looking better,” Sirius observed, popping his head back into the living room.

Harry tossed his phone to the side and smiled. “Is dinner even edible anymore?”

During dinner (extra “crispy” chicken Sirius calls it, mashed potatoes, and vegetables), Harry finally caved in and told Sirius and Hermione what happened. They were so outraged on his behalf, it actually dulled his own anger enough for him to admit he was difficult to be around while he recovered, and he was probably not the best boyfriend at the time. They wouldn’t hear any of it though.

After Hermione headed home and Sirius to his study, Harry receded to his room where he took a moment to appreciate his hidden poster. Then he headed to the shower, where he may or may not have decided to relax by picturing a particularly sassy redhead. When his head hit his pillow, he immediately drifted off to a pleasant, dreamless sleep.

Harry let out a big yawn as he rose from his last class of the day. He paused to stretch out his right leg, which had a tendency of getting stiff after sitting too long post-surgery.

As his classmates trickled out, he whipped out his phone, already pondering where to grab take-out for his solo night in since Sirius was planning an evening out (don’t expect me home tonight). A red notification blared out at him, which was odd considering his rare use and minuscule follower-ship on Instagram. He clicked on it, wondering if someone commented on his recent post of Sirius with a big, black shaggy dog.

It was a message from…

The phone nearly slipped out of his hand.

Ginny Weasley? Bringing the phone closer to his face, he stared at the message beside her smirking profile picture.

I’m in. When and where?

Harry scrubbed a hand over his face. Was he dreaming? His celebrity crush since he was seventeen, the one he had just wanked to two days ago (and countless times over the years), wanted to help him egg and teepee his ex’s place?

After a moment’s hesitation, he began punching in the details of the closest station to Cho’s.

Meet around 10?

His thumb hovered over the send button. What did he have to lose? He pressed down. He swallowed hard as three hovering dots appeared.

See you soon.

“Fuck,” Harry said aloud to an empty classroom.

Harry couldn’t believe this was happening. Maybe someone had hacked into her account and was just having a lark. Maybe he was going to be mugged on arrival.

“Yes, that must be it,” he assured himself as he ascended the stairs to the front of the station.

“Are you H-P-Lightening?”

Harry looked around and nearly tripped over the last step. For a second, he thought he might have been right about being mugged, given the hooded figure that appeared on his right. But the figure pushed back her hood, and fiery gold-and-red hair spilling out like a curtain.

It was her. Ginny Weasley.

Standing in front of him in an oversized hoodie, a bag of toilet paper (economy size, she didn’t skimp), and several cartons of eggs. Her brown eyes glinted with mischief, and her lips were curled up in her devil-may-care smirk. She was close enough that he could not only make out the splattering of attractive freckles across her face, but he could catch what seemed to be the sweet smell of flowers.

“Er —” was all Harry could manage.

She arched an eyebrow. “You’re not him?”

“No — I mean, yes, I am. That’s me. Harry Potter.”

Her smile brightly. “Nice to meet you, Harry.”

“Yeah, nice,” he said stupidly. “I’m a huge fan. I didn’t think, er, I never thought —”

“I seem to be a terrible influence,” Ginny laughed, and the way it made her nose crinkle sent shivers down Harry’s spine. “Since I put the idea in your head, the least I could do was help out and prevent you from getting caught.”

“Do you always rescue brokenhearted blokes on your public profile?”

“Only the really particularly pathetic ones,” she grinned back. “My publicist is always encouraging me to take on more charity work.”

“Smart,” Harry nodded sagely. “It’s good to engage with the people from time to time. Humanize you.”

She was laughing again, and he felt ridiculously chuffed that he was making Ginny Weasley of all people laugh. It did loads for his self-esteem considering Cho was always either bemused or offended by his snarky remarks.

“Exactly,” she said, holding out an extra hoodie for him. He thanked her and pulled it over this head, reminding himself that he shouldn’t be so pleased that they were matching. As he took some of the supplies from her, and they began walking, she continued, “I don’t know, your comment kind of stuck out to me.”

He glanced at her when she seemed to hesitate and was surprised when she quickly looked away, a bit of color on her cheeks.

“And the fact that you didn’t give off any stalker murder vibes was a plus.”

He laughed. “But really, thank you,” Harry said. “I was, er, brooding, as my friends and family like to call it because of Cho, and your interview cheered me up — the way you didn’t let that awful reporter get under your skin was truly something else.”

“Ah yes, Rita Skeeter,” Ginny smiled stonily. “Should have known better than to bet against my twin brothers.”

“Bet?”

She shrugged. “I didn’t believe them when they said Michael, my now notorious ex, was shifty. Swore it wasn’t true, and they bet I’d have to go on Skeeter’s show if I was wrong. They constantly goad me about my poor judgment in men, which was really what got me riled up enough to take them on. Then a week later, I caught Michael doing some yoga with his new assistant. ‘Course they tried really hard to explain why they were working on her downward dog naked.”

Harry grimaced. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she said airily. “He was a prat. If he’d just broken up with me like a decent human being, I wouldn’t have had to deal with all the latest tabloids. Besides,” she glanced at him curiously, “seems like I wasn’t the only one who’s had some bad luck with romance lately.”

“Ah yes, my tale of woe. I caught my ex snogging the guy who took my starter position after I tore my ACL. All around the time when there were recruiters coming around. Her timing and choice couldn’t have been better.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, her hand touching his arm. He felt heat shoot through him.

“Ah, it’s not really fun hanging around a depressed sod.” One side of his mouth twisted up with a touch of bitterness. “She didn’t much enjoy my moods.”

Ginny snorted. “Right, because what mattered then was her having fun.”

Harry shrugged. Aside from some awkward, fumbling, and a bit sloppy kisses, he wasn’t really sure how much fun Cho seemed to have around him. She’d always been trying to get him to talk about his feelings, like about his parents or how terrible he felt about his injury or the lost his dream opportunity to go pro. Her insistence often made him clam up or shut down.

Ginny started asking him questions about his uni and his team, and soon they were chatting like old friends about football strategies and tactics, favorite moves, new players with potential. It was very possible he revealed just how well he knew her team’s stats, but if she noticed, she graciously doesn’t comment.

“Here we are,” he realized, skidding to a stop in front of a blue house. Ginny pulled him back behind a tree. He peered at her curiously, but she was scanning the quiet street and the house.

“Doesn’t seem like anyone is home,” she announced.

“There was a game today, with a party that tends to go pretty late.”

“Well isn’t that perfect?” She smiled at him as she pulled the hood back over her head, and he mirrored her motion.

With remarkable coordination and teamwork considering they didn’t speak a word but rather communicate with meaningful glances and stifled laughter, they began decorating the bushes, garden, porch, trees, and roof with toilet paper. Then they returned to the pavement with the egg cartons.

“Care to go first, Harry?” Ginny asked, a softness in her eyes despite her artful tossing and catching an egg with ease.

He picked up an egg and hesitated. The anger and betrayal churned through him, but there was a part of him that still wondered if maybe he should let it go.

“Hm, worried you’re unable to throw from here?” she asked casually, her eyes flashing with mischief.

Was that a challenge? She gave him an assessing glance before turning to the house.

“Maybe you don’t think you can hit that awful thing,” she said, pointing at a crow sticker attached to a window, grinning wickedly.

“Watch it, Weasley,” Harry said roughly. He wound his arm back and with impressive accuracy, hit the crow sticker on the window. “Hah!”

“Seemed a bit aggressive there,” she laughed.

“That thing always gave me the creeps,” he admitted sheepishly, remembering how the shadow of the crow seemed to follow him in that room. “Now then, you may be a great starter, but what about your arm aim?”

Her egg splattered noisily right at the center of the door.

“If we only conditioned our legs, we’d be pretty lopsided.”

He laughed as they continued to goad each other with more and more difficult places. But soon, they began to throw with more ferocity, each seeming to exorcise some past demons.

His egg cracked against the porch stair where she first kissed him in the rain.

“I wish she had never kissed me.”

Her egg smashed against a different window.

“I wish I had broken things off when he kept pestering me about wearing more dresses.”

Another cracked against the roof.

“Wish I hadn’t pushed myself too far for those stupid recruiters!”

One landed against the door handle.

“What does my love life have to do with how I play, Skeeter?”

As they went through the eggs, they spouted all the things wrong with their previous relationships before moving to other frustrations until all three cartons of eggs were empty, and the house was a comically gooey, papered mess.

Harry dragged a hand through his tousled hair, dazed by how much better he felt. He met Ginny’s eye and warmed at the sight of her flushed cheeks and pleased smile. She reached out and took his hand, and without a word, he let her draw him away, leaving the tangled mess of feelings about Cho and his doomed football career behind. Her hand in his felt like the only real thing in the world.

They walked together, hand-in-hand, in comfortable silence back to the station. As they drew closer, he grew nervous and turned to face her.

“Thank you, Ginny,” he blurted earnestly.

“You’re welcome. It was really fun,” she said. She seemed to hesitate for the first time the entire evening, looking over his shoulder.

Panic shot through him — was this it? Would he ever see her again?

“Actually,” she said slowly, “I rode here. I could give you a lift if you like, instead of taking the train.”

“Rode?” He echoed, turning to follow her gaze. His mouth dropped open. There, parked surreptitiously, was a gleaming motorcycle. “Bloody hell, Sirius will love you.”

“Sirius?”

“Um, my godfather. He’s got a thing for motorcycles. Treats his like it’s a national treasure,” he explained, blushing. “I’ve been riding them since he took me in.”

Something shifted in her eyes, but it was gone so quickly that he may have imagined it. Back was the shining amusement.

“Well then, I take it you’re not afraid of a bit of speed.” She wound around him towards her ride. She opened the storage unit and tossed him a helmet. “You’ve always got to make sure you have a nifty getaway vehicle.”

“See, this is why I enlisted an expert.”

He provided her his address, and after a quick search on her phone, she mentioned she was familiar with the area. It turned out he lived close to an old friend of hers, a Luna Lovegood, who was responsible for those quirky magazines about mythical creatures that Sirius always got a hoot out of and Hermione would turn her head disapprovingly from.

Helmet secure, Ginny hopped on and looked at him expectantly. He slipped on his helmet and sat behind her. He floundered, wondering where he should grip the seat.

“You better hold onto me.” Her voice was muffled in her helmet, but it sounded crystal clear to him. “Wouldn’t want the next headliner to be how I killed a man by not practicing safety.”

“Right — hardly a way to repay you.” He tentatively slid tantalizingly closer, wrapping his arms around her middle. God she was fit. “That, ah, safe enough?”

Ginny nodded jerkily. “Yep, that’s great.”

She lifted her left leg, kicked into gear, and soon they were roaring through the winding roads of London.

Harry loved to feel the wind whip around him and the familiar rumbling underneath him. It made him feel like he was flying. But damn Ginny wasn’t kidding when she liked it fast, and he found himself gripping her a little tighter than he had expected but enjoying every moment of it — the feel on her in his arms, the elevated rush of adrenaline due to her speed. Watching the buildings, streets, and vehicles go by in a blur of lights made the night feel magical.

All too soon, Ginny was pulling up in front of his home. He hastily pulled away, hoping that his graceless way of removing his helmet would disguise his blush. She made it seem so effortless when she pulled her helmet off and threw her head back, her hair cascading down her shoulders. They smiled at each other, not sure what to say, but he didn’t want the night to end. Harry couldn’t believe his luck, and maybe he shouldn’t push it, but when else was the universe going to wink in his direction?

“Would you like to come up?” He cringed. “I can make you a cup of tea, I mean — as a sincere thank you for being both my partner in crime and my savior.”

He braced himself for the rejection.

“Oh,” she said, sounding both surprised and breathless. “Yes. That sounds nice.”

Harry led her inside, nervously watching her glance around the cottage. “It belonged to my parents.”

“It’s lovely,” Ginny smiled, walking over to the mantle.

“It’s a good thing that Sirius isn’t home — he probably wouldn’t stop pestering us if he were.” He scrambled to tidy some of the papers and books on the coffee table.

“Is that him?” she asked, pointing to a photo of Sirius with a ten-year-old Harry in his arms. Harry was laughing really hard, his wire-frame glasses knocked askew, and Sirius’s attention was completely on Harry, a wide grin on his face and affection shining in his eyes. It was one of Harry’s favorite photos, but he wasn’t sure how he felt about Ginny seeing him when he was a bespectacled, scrawny boy.

“Yes,” he said, as she continued to gaze at the photo thoughtfully. “Er, kitchen?”

She let him lead her away. “Your home is a lot cleaner than my parents’ place. Though I suppose that isn’t too difficult to achieve. I have six older brothers and all.”

“Sounds nice. It’s just been Sirius and me, sometimes a dog — he can never resist a stray — and occasionally my pseudo uncle when he needs a place to crash.”

She pulled the dark hoodie over her head, and his breath hitched when her jumper lifted to reveal a sliver of pale, freckled skin. Harry hastily set about heating up the kettle, trying to remember his train of thought.

“Can’t imagine what it would have been like with so many more people.”

“Rowdy and loud,” she said, her affection in her voice obvious. “Never a dull moment.”

“Was it hard? Being the only girl.” He rummaged in the cupboard, praying that Sirius hadn’t eaten the last of the biscuits.

“Sometimes, but it taught me to be…inventive.”

“Sneaky you mean?”

“When I had to be. They insisted for the longest time that I couldn’t play football with them, so I snuck out at night and practiced myself.”

“You certainly showed them,” Harry laughed, emerging victorious with a tin of biscuits he’d baked with Hermione a few days prior — hers had come out a bit rockish despite following the recipe exactly, but his were decent. “Did you always want to play professionally?”

“Yes.” She thanked him when he placed a steaming cup in front of her, offering sugar and milk. “What about you?”

Yes was on the tip of his tongue, but for some reason he paused. “I love football. I started playing as a kid, first with kicking the ball around the yard with Sirius.”

“Were you any good?”

“Um, was the youngest starter in secondary. Was scouted for my uni’s team.”

She gave a low whistle of surprise. “A lot of promise, then.”

“Hardly compares to you,” he smiled.

“If you want, I can refer you to some of the best physical therapists. You can be back to where you were in less than a year.”

Harry stared at the steam from his cup as he nibbled on a chocolate biscuit. For some reason, the prospect didn’t seem to strike a chord.

Ginny tilted her head. “It’s just a thought.”

“Oh — um, thank you. That’s really generous,” he cringed at his word choice, “I just —”

“This thing with your ex will pass, Harry.”

“I know — I mean, it kind of already has.” He fell silent, not really sure exactly what he was trying to convey. “I was really upset earlier about the whole thing — Cho and my replacement going pro in my stead. But right now, I just feel….relief?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling foolish and confused, but Ginny sipped her tea and gave him time to sort himself out.

“I love football and always will, but don’t know if…if I was all that upset about the recruiters so much as — ” He faltered, not sure where he was going with this. She reached over and squeezed his arm encouragingly. “As disappointing Sirius.”

“Your godfather?” she asked softly.

Harry nodded jerkily. “Yes. He was best mates with my dad. Practically brothers.”

He went quiet again, lost in his thoughts.

“I don’t know Sirius, but the way he looks at you in those photos makes it hard for me to think anything you’d do could disappoint him, Harry,” she said, a fierce look on her face.

A lump formed in his throat, and he cleared it several times, feeling heat crawl up his neck.

“My dad was about to go pro when…” Harry swallowed hard, his voice thick. He reached over and took her hand in his, marveling at how small and smooth her skin was. “When he and my mum got in an accident. A drunk driver on Halloween.”

“I’m so sorry, Harry. We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“No, I don’t mind,” he said and meant it. He was surprised considering he never talked about his parents, but with Ginny, it came so naturally. When she looked at him like that, he felt like he could tell her anything. “I suppose — I wanted to fulfill their dream — dad’s and Sirius’s.”

He stopped, taken aback by his admission. He glanced down at their joined hands as her thumb gently caressed his knuckle. Was that why he had been so upset lately? He and Cho had been on the outs even before his injury.

“Everyone always says how I look just like him. Except for my eyes. I’ve got my mum’s eyes.”

His heart pounded in his chest at the way her warm brown eyes stared up at his. “You’ve got the greenest eyes. They’re green as — ” She stopped, blushing.

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Green as?”

“Er — I’m blaming it on the relentless practice making me barmy, but I first thought green as a freshly pickled toad.”

They both burst out laughing, the mood lightening immediately. Ginny withdrew her hand to cover her face, which glowed like the setting sun. His hand felt strangely bereft without hers.

“So what is your dream?” “Erm — I don’t know,” he admitted. He thought hard about his hobbies outside of football. “I guess…maybe becoming a cop or detective? Solve crimes, help people.” “So you’re not usually the type to egg someone’s house?” she teased. “Ha! No, not exactly, but it was worth it.” Getting to meet you. “Though don’t get me wrong, I’m not above breaking rules. Had a bit of a reputation back in the day.”

She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. “A troublemaker, are you?”

“Trouble usually finds me,” he grinned back.

They continued to talk late into the evening. Between all the banter, Harry found himself revealing a lot more of himself than he ever expected. Ginny, to his delight, seemed equally comfortable, even sharing a dark experience about a run-in with Tom Riddle, a wealthy and well-liked wealthy football team owner, which had Harry gripping his mug so tightly he nearly shattered it. But she carefully uncurled his fingers and her touch softened the edge of his anger. He never wanted to stop talking to her, getting to know her. Before they knew it, it was nearly three in the morning.

“It’s getting late,” she finally said, and he agreed reluctantly. They exchanged numbers and even took a photo together (would it be too creepy if he set it as his background?).

As he walked her outside, he wondered if it would be too strange or forward to offer his bed (he would obviously take the couch) or maybe call a cab so that she’d have to come back soon to pick up her motorcycle. He was jarred from his thoughts when he nearly walked into her.

“I had a wonderful night,” Harry said. “Best one in…I can’t even remember.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Do you think we can — do this again?”

“Have more exes who have done you dirty?”

He barked out a laugh. “Maybe not an ex, but I know a bully or two. Really, I’d love to see you again. You can even decide whether we commit another crime or not.”

Her lips quirked up. “Not sure that’ll help you become a cop, but yes, I’d really like that.”

They stared at each other, neither wanting to move away first. When the pressure in his chest grew unbearable, he shoved his hands into his pockets and began to turn and walk back towards his house.

“I guess I’d better… Goodnight, Ginny.”

Stupid berk, he fumed. So much for being brave.

“Harry?” she called out.

He turned around to see her running toward him, a hard, blazing look of determination in her face. She threw her arms around him as he opened his, automatically wrapping around her. And without thinking about his nerves, her fame, his crush that had blossomed into much, much more in only hours, he kissed her. There was nothing else, just Ginny, her lips sliding over his, her sweet-smelling hair in his hands, her body pressed against his. He never wanted it to end. After what felt like several sun-lit days, they broke apart.

He pressed his forehead against hers. “That was…”

“Yeah,” she said. “It was.”

They finally pulled away. He probably looked like a besotted fool with his mile-wide grin, but he couldn’t work himself up to care when Ginny was grinning up at him like that.

“So I’ll call you? Maybe — maybe we can get together tomorrow, er — I guess today?”

She bit down on her lower lip as her grin grew. She reached up and adjusted his skewed glasses. “Yeah, today.”

“A proper date,” Harry felt the need to say.

“I’ll let you woo me and everything,” Ginny chuckled.

“Okay.”

But instead of moving away, they leaned in and kissed again. They’d go their separate ways…in due time.

#hinny #Harry/Ginny #Harry Potter #Ginny Weasley #fanfiction #i wrote a thing #tumblr prompt #Muggle AU #football | soccer player Ginny #football | soccer player Harry #lots of sass and flirting #i can't believe i wrote this after all this time away #meet-cute #Ginny is the famous one #fluff #humor #My writing

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raiseveganus · 6 years ago

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