A/N: Hi everyone! This story was written for Round 4 of the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition. The prompt I received was to start and end the story with the same conjunction, so sorry if the ending is super awkward. I did the best I could. As always, please review!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter... Darn...

Team: Wigtown Wanderers

Position: Captain

Word count: 1186

Title: Out of the Nest

"But mum!" Ginny cried, staring longingly out the window at her older brothers, all of whom had hopped onto broomsticks and were playing Quidditch in the yard. "I want to go outside and play too!"

Her mother eyed her sternly and shut the curtains, staring at her five year-old daughter. "Sorry dear, but you're just too young! Besides, you wouldn't like those sorts of games. Why don't you go play with your dolls instead?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "But I don't like playing with dolls," she said. "I want to go outside and do things, like get the gnomes out of the garden!"

"Absolutely not!" her mother replied. "You're much too young for that sort of thing!"

"But-"

"No, Ginny," her mother said.

Ginny glared childishly up at her mother before stomping one of her feet on the ground and marching dramatically upstairs to her bedroom. This wasn't the first time her mother had turned down her requests to play with her brothers, and it certainly wouldn't be the last.

Throughout her entire childhood, her mother always seemed over-protective and paranoid about the well being of her daughter. Ginny was the only girl in the family, her mother's one and only daughter, so naturally she was determined to make sure she was always safe.

Still, sometime Ginny wished her mother would just let her do something with her brothers.

When she was seven, she asked her mother once again if she could go play on the broomsticks outside, and once again, Molly Weasley said no, so Ginny took matters into her own hands.

That night, once her mother was asleep, she tiptoed out of her room and down the stairs to the closet where she knew the brooms were kept. As quietly as she could, she opened the door and pulled one off of the rack, and off she went into the backyard.

With excitement and anticipation coursing through her body, she began to mount the broom when-

"Ginny!" a voice hissed in the darkness.

She spun around and saw her older brother Charlie standing behind her.

Trying to outsmart him, she hid the broomstick behind her back. Charlie just laughed.

"You know, as clever as you are, you can be really stupid sometimes."

Ginny glared at him and moved the broom back in front of her. "I just want to ride a broomstick," she said sadly. "Mum won't let me because she thinks I'm too little, but I know I'm not," she expressed with confidence.

Charlie, who was sixteen at the time, sighed and walked closer. "Can I see the broomstick, Ginny?" he asked gently.

Ginny shook her head and clutched the wooden object tightly to her chest, turning away to protect it from being taken from her.

"I'm not going to make you go inside," Charlie said. "I'm going to take you for a ride."

Immediately, Ginny's eyes lit up with excitement. "You are?" she asked eagerly, literally jumping up and down.

Charlie laughed and grabbed the broomstick. "Sure!" he said. He hopped on and pulled her up so she was sitting in front of him.

Ginny was so excited she hardly heard when her older brother said, "Hold on tight, Gin!"

Suddenly, she was flying through the air, and she gripped the broomstick tightly. Her hair was blowing in the wind behind her and she could see the lights from the muggle city just a few miles away. Her home, the Burrow, was right below them, chickens, garden, and all. It was the most amazing thing she'd ever seen.

"Can we go faster?" she asked longingly, wishing she could go zooming over the countryside.

"Faster?" Charlie asked.

"Yeah!" she exclaimed.

Behind her, Charlie chuckled. "I suppose so," he said.

The broomstick slowly sped up until Ginny could hear the wind whistling in her ears. Fields were flashing by below her and the lights of the muggle city grew farther and farther away.

Charlie knew that they were only flying for ten minutes, but for Ginny, it felt like a lifetime of freedom and happiness. She whooped for joy, and then began to laugh when Charlie did the same.

When they landed on the front lawn, Ginny gazed longingly at the broomstick. She made a move to grab it, so she could fly it herself, but Charlie pulled it away.

"Ah, ah," he said, shaking his head. "You might be old enough to ride with us, but you can't ride by yourself yet. Even I didn't ride a broom by myself until I was eight."

"But-"

Charlie smiled and ruffled her hair. "Sorry, kiddo. Maybe in a few weeks when your birthday comes around."

Ginny's eyes lit up again. "In a few weeks?" she asked.

"We'll see," Charlie replied.

They walked towards the Burrow together in silence, and just before they went in the front door, Charlie stopped and knelt down so he was at eye level with his sister.

"One more thing," he said.

Ginny nodded, waiting for him to continue.

"Don't even think about telling mum," Charlie said seriously.

Ginny rolled her eyes, lighting up her small features with sarcasm. "I might only be seven but I'm not stupid."

Charlie laughed and they walked into the house together. She watched as he put the broom back in the cupboard and then tiptoed quietly up to her room.

"Thanks, Charlie," she whispered before she shut the door.

He waved and nodded in affirmation that he'd heard her, and she plopped herself into bed.

That night, while she slept, her dreams were filled with images of the countryside whizzing by below her. For one brief moment, she saw herself playing in a quidditch match, catching the quaffle and scoring in one of the three hoops. All around her, the crowd cheered and screamed…

"Ginny! Ginny! Hello? It's time to go!" Her teammate was yelling at her and waving a hand in front of her face.

"What?" she asked, finally brought out of her reverie.

"The game is starting, come on! Don't want to be late for your first game as a Harpie!"

With excitement coursing through her body, Ginny Weasley mounted her broom, feeling just like a little kid again.

As she flew out of the changing rooms and onto the field, the crowds went wild. She glanced around, looking for one specific person until she finally found him.

Charlie Weasley was grinning broadly and waving to her, shouting her name along with the rest of her family members, both immediate and extended.

Neither of them had ever told anyone else about their little adventure when she was seven; everyone else thought she first rode a broom on her eighth birthday, but both she and Charlie knew the significance of this moment.

Then, a voice carried out from the crowd of redheads.

"Ginny!" cried her mother. "Make sure your helmet is on tightly!"

"But-"