The Only Real Thing In The World: HINNY ONE SHOTS

Randy Wizards and Witches

It was a dark and stormy night and the conditions reflected Harry's mood perfectly. He was currently situated in a back booth at The Leaky Cauldron sipping firewhiskey and pretending to converse with Ron and Hermione whilst he glared daggers at the crowd of young wizards that encircled his girl-, not girlfriend, his fiancée. That was going to take some getting used to. The thought of it caused him to smile briefly before his scowl returned full force.

When Ginny had mentioned that she needed to put in an appearance at a meet and greet of her official fan club, Harry had thought nothing of it. That was part of being a professional Quidditch player. As they entered the pub, he'd expected to see a lot of young witches in pigtails, adorned in Ginny's replica Holyhead Harpies jersey. He was unpleasantly surprised to find it mostly packed with of-age wizards with bulging biceps and perfect teeth instead.

"What's got your knickers in a twist?" Ron asked between mouthfuls of Hermione's left over chips. He was eyeing the slice of treacle tart that sat in front of Harry, so far untouched.

Harry shrugged him off and took a gulp of firewhiskey, his eyes never leaving Ginny and her throng of admirers.

"Ron's right. You've been ill-tempered ever since we sat down," Hermione said and gave him that annoying look she often got when she seemed to be reading Harry's mind.

"Fine." Harry dropped his glass on the table with a little too much enthusiasm and scowled when he splashed firewhiskey on his trousers, setting them slightly aflame. He was a little slow on the draw when he pulled his wand to put out the tiny flames that had begun to trickle up his leg, but he wasn't too far gone to manage an Aguamenti before any real damage was done.

Harry muttered a few curses under his breath before continuing. "Anyway, I thought Ginny's fan club was mostly those cute little witches that hang around the locker room for autographs after her matches. I didn't expect to find myself in a room full of randy wizards all vying for my witch's affections."

"I wouldn't let Ginny hear you call her your witch if I were you," Hermione said.

Harry's eyes went all dreamy for a moment. "Actually, she kind of likes it when I call her that, especially when we're …"

"Eating here." Ron spit out a bite of chips. "What makes you think they're vying for her affections anyway?"

"Please! I have eyes don't I? And besides, I haven't smelled this much cologne since Neville discovered girls." Harry craned his neck to get a look at another group of wizards who had entered the pub wearing tight Harpies t-shirts. "Aren't some of them a bit old to be chasing Quidditch players around for autographs?"

"Really Harry," Hermione said not trying to hide her irritation. "Were you not with Ron after the Harpies played the Cannons? Ron was giddy as a schoolgirl after he managed to get all the players to sign that jersey you got him for Christmas."

Ron had made quite a spectacle of himself that night and Ginny was so embarrassed she'd sworn she was never inviting him to an after party again.

"What?" Ron asked, helping himself to the treacle tart Harry had been fiddling with but not eating. "It was the Cannons."

Harry glanced back at Ginny. "That one looks like Cormac McLaggen." He gestured across the room to where a burly-looking bloke had shoved his way to the front of the queue and was attempting to chat Ginny up.