15. meeting in the E.R/A&E
this takes place in a world without voldemort, or at least that’s how i’m explaining it
Ginny comes to just in time to see her team land and rush towards her, where she must be lying on the grass if their sudden looming height is anything to go by. The referee and Gwenog are rushing over too, their faces pale and Gwenog looking ready to Stun someone. Ginny isn’t sure who though, because it was mostly her fault she fell off her broom.
“Weasley,” Gwenog growls, dropping down beside her. “If you weren’t such a bloody good Chaser.”
“I know, I know,” Ginny groans. The pounding in her head gets louder and seems to migrate outside of it, when she attempts to sit up. She lowers herself back down. “If I weren’t so good, my temper would bar me from anything resembling a professional league. But he was -”
“I do not care if he was insulting everyone you love and everything you stand for, you never, and can I repeat for what feels like the thousandth time, never need to perform a flying. Mid-air. TACKLE.” The rest of the team has assembled around them now, some attempting to look suitably worried, but most of them so used to seeing Ginny bloodied and being shouted at that they are mouthing along to Gwenog’s tirade.
When the ref, a balding middle aged man that Ginny swears she’s never seen before, but has apparently refereed over twenty of her matches, seems confidant that Gwenog is not going to start berating the injured player again, he blows his whistle. Two sharp blasts.
“No,” Ginny begins. “No, no, I don’t need St Mungo’s. I can still fly. I just need someone to help me stand up. I can still sit on my broom.”
He just shakes his head. “Sorry Weasley, no blood allowed on my pitch.”
And just like that she is being levitated off the pitch and carted off to the hospital against her will.
***
Two hours later, Ginny is a minor character in her mother’s worst nightmare.
“Your father and I never get called to the Emergency Room because Ron has got himself hurt -”
“Ron has Hermione and Harry as his emergency contacts,” Ginny mutters under her breath.
Fortunately, her mum doesn’t hear her, too busy with her hands elaborating increasingly angry points. She is working herself up to a full blown Molly Weasley Lecture. Her dad pats her knee – a part of her body that isn’t hurting right now, in this interminable wait for a Healer – and smiles at her.
“Sometimes, I think, it is best not to remind your mother that Percy is the only one of her children unlikely to get himself hurt in the line of duty. A papercut, is perhaps the worst thing that could happen to him at work.”
Ginny snorts. “But maybe we could ask someone to bring out all the Weasley files they have and see who has the biggest one? My money’s on Ron.”
Arthur pulls out a pouch of coins from inside his robes. He opens it and pulls out enough for a pint. “Mine’s on Fred and George. They may be obscure, minor injuries, but they happen with a ridiculous frequency. Drinks on the loser?”
They both laugh, unable to stop themselves even in the face of Molly Weasley’s wrath. Ginny is laughing so hard she keeps having to stop and wheeze in pain, clutching at the ribs she thinks must be broken.
“Oh, this is lovely.” The Healer’s voice seems to float across the room towards them. Ginny looks up to see a woman with a cloud of blonde hair that has not been pulled back in what seems to be staff policy, and a slightly dreamy expression on her face. Luna Lovegood. It’s been ten years since school, but Ginny would recognise her anywhere. “Please don’t stop on my account. Laughter really is the best medicine, and it’s so rarely heard in this building, where it should be heard the most.”
Molly seems incoherent in the face of Luna’s pronouncement, but Ginny beams.
“Luna! How are you?” It suddenly seems like the most important question. Ginny lost touch with most people once she left Hogwarts, unless they were involved in Quidditch or the Weasley family. She was too busy, she told herself, and then she was just out of the habit. But seeing Luna again, she feels seventeen and overwhelmed with her crush. Surely she should have grown out of it, having left it to gather dust for so long.
“In much better shape than you it seems, Ginny. I’ll ask you how you are once I’ve got you healed up.” She ushers Ginny out of the foyer, and into one of the curtained off ‘private’ rooms, leaving Molly and Arthur behind.
“Fair enough,” Ginny smiles. She’s pretty sure she’s still got blood in her hair and grass on her robes, but if Luna is a Healer she’s probably seen worse. And she’s still smiling serenely, moving through spells and sending a glass of some turquoise potion drifting over to Ginny.
“I’ve followed your career in the papers,” Luna says into the quiet. “You’re very good.”
“Thank you.” Ginny ducks her head, and feels her hereditary blush heat up her cheeks. She is used to getting praise from strangers, from Harpies fans and sports writers, from teammates and opponents, but she’s never really gotten used to receiving praise from people she knows. And Luna is someone she used to want to impress. Maybe she still does. “I’d have followed your career, but they don’t tend to write about Healers. Seems silly when you think about it. You’re saving lives.”
“I can tell you all about my work over drinks if you’d like.” The tips of Luna’s ears flush, and Ginny cannot quite believe what’s happening. “My shift finishes in half an hour, and I expect that’s how long it will take your mother to ascertain whether or not I’ve done a good job fixing you up.”
“Yeah,” Ginny grins at her. “Yeah. I’d definitely like.”