Ryanwrites05

[ryanwrites05]

Nov. 15 - Run!

@hinnymicrofic

The Burrow - Summer of 1996

They hid behind the bush next to the large oak tree. It was the perfect hiding spot and vantage point.

All they had to do was wait.

“Are you sure he’s going to go for it?” she asked, not entirely convinced Ron would fall for it. I mean the string was right there. He was an idiot though, especially when good was involved.

Harry just shot her a lopsided smirk that made her stomach swoop. Or maybe it was the earthy scent that she couldn’t shake around him.

“Course, I am. He’s my best mate, but he’s never seen a pudding he didn’t like.”

She nodded - it was a fair assessment.

“Besides, I pulled this loads of times on my cousin and his gang, when they…”, but he stopped mid sentence, a crease forming between his eyes.

“When they what”, she whispered.

He just shook his head. “Nothing, forget about it. It’ll work.”

She furrowed her brow, wondering what he was going to say. But then, he shifted his weight to the other foot and his shoulder bumped up against her accidentally. He reached out a hand to grab her shoulder to steady himself - sending her an apologetic smirk. It made her heart hammer a little faster.

She liked this, being friends. Actually having a summer together. Pulling pranks. She would do anything to get his mind off of…well, Sirius and everything.

Just then the back door sprung open and Ron and Hermione came out - flirting bickering about something or what.

“Shhh,” she whispered loudly to him, smacking his arm repeatedly although neither one of them had said anything. He shot her a look that said he’s got it and her heart started racing again.

It was going to be perfect.

Ron and Hermione made straight for the pond and she couldn’t believe their luck.

Walking up, Ron caught sight of the treacle tart slice lying in wait - clearly missing the light string hooked on the plate.

“Ah, perfect,” Ron said and bent down mid argument to reach for it.

“Honestly, Ron - it could be infested with bugs. You have no idea how long it’s been there,” Hermione said. And that would have been a great idea.

She shot Harry a look and could tell by his eyes lifting that he was thinking the same. What a missed opportunity.

He shot her an appraising look and she nodded for him to go ahead. Just as Ron reached down, Harry pulled the string and the plate moved a few paces toward the pond.

Ron paused mid-grab, appraising it. “What the- did you see that?!”

Hermione rolled her eyes, already back on whatever they were flirting arguing about.

In the split second Ron looked at her, she grabbed Harry’s arm and pulled the string back more. It was closer to the pond now, right near the curve of the bank, but Ron wouldn’t notice. What with Hermione and the prospect of free pudding there for the taking.

He turned around, seemed to appraise it for a minute, before shaking his head like he was seeing things.

She and Harry were both shaking with barely contained laughter at this point.

Just a bit further…

Ron reached for the plate again and just as Ron was taking hold, Harry pulled the string again hard - the resulting surprise causing Ron to curse, lose his footing on the bank, and tumble right into the pond.

Jackpot.

He let out a howl of frustration as Hermione shrieked, finally figuring out what was happening.

Ron stood soaked in water and looked around for the culprit. “WHAT THE- WHO-“

Neither of them could help it. She and Harry were both doubled over, laughing hard.

“That’s for taking the last slice of treacle tart your Mum made me!” Harry bellowed.

Ron whirled around and caught sight of them both. “Are you serious!? You two!?” Even Hermione was laughing at this point.

Breathing heavy between laughs, a stitch starting to form in her side, she couldn’t help but double over again.

That was until she saw Ron racing out of the pond - threatening to pull them both in.

She didn’t have time to react. Harry grabbed her hand and pulled her with him. “Run!”, he bellowed.

As she took off toward the safety of the orchard with him, she thought that If there was such a thing as heaven, it would be something like this.

[ryanwrites05]

Nov 13 - Creation

@hinnymicrofic

She caught sight of Harry and the familiar tuft of aqua blue hair belonging to three year old Teddy and grinned. Racing down, she landed on the grass just as Teddy broke away from his godfather's grasp and launched toward her.

"Auntie Ginny, Auntie Ginnyyy," elongating her name and reaching for her in the cutest manner possible.

She caught hold of him and spun him around, her green Harpies jersey loosely coming undone. Teddy let out a scream of giggles that felt almost as good as her fifteenth, and final, goal of the day before the snitch was caught.

Holding up his sign in his hand, Teddy said excitedly, "Auntie Ginny do you like my creation?!"

She caught sight of the sign, which looked like he took hold of a paintbrush and painted Harpies green across as much white space on the paper as he could find.

She laughed, "Looks good, mate. What is it?"

He screwed up his tiny face, considering the sign. "It's you scoring, Auntie Ginny!"

She laughed and put him back down. "Oh, obviously. Your godfather's eyesight must be wearing off on me."

"What about mine?" Said godfather asked, walking up next to her and pulling her into a deep hug. She felt her tense muscles relax.

She looked down to his larger white sign and snorted.

Ginny Weasley is Hot

"Dunno...think his was a bit more creative, to be honest."

Harry laughed and bent down to kiss her cheek. "You were brilliant," he whispered in her ear.

She mouthed a silent thank you as he grinned back at her.

Breaking apart from her and pulling Teddy up on his shoulders, Harry said: "Okay, who wants to get ice cream at Fortescue's and go bug Uncle George?"

[ryanwrites05]

This Is For You

Prompt: Nov. 11 - Scarf

@hinnymicrofic

The biting cold wind whipped around her atop the Astronomy Tower, her mane of red hair flowing across her face. She pulled the red and gold scarf closer around her.

His scarf.

She wore it like armor. The one weakness she allowed herself in a place surrounded by enemies.

No one knew it was his. She knicked it from his trunk - something of his she could have before they disappeared.

Looking out at the frozen Black Lake, she breathed deeply - settling herself.

She would come here to think often, to be alone. No one seemed to come up here, or at least not on nights like this. Which was why she liked it so much, or so far as anything could be liked in the middle of a war.

She felt more than saw Luna step up next to her.

“I thought I would find you here,” Luna said quietly.

Ginny glanced at her. Her blonde hair whipped around, but her face was set, her silvery-blue eyes determined.

“He would be proud of you, you know,” Luna said, barely above a whisper. Even in the solitude of the tower neither dared to say his name.

“I miss him,” she said. She hadn’t actually said the words, or dared to admit their veracity, in what felt like months, or maybe a lifetime.

Neither spoke for some time. And maybe that was what she liked about Luna the most, how she understood this side of her - allowed her to admit something as dangerous as that.

“We have a way into Snape’s office?”

“Yes, Neville is ready when we are,” Luna replied, her determined face fixed again.

“And we are sure we have a way to get the sword out?”

“Neville will get it to Aberforth, through the Room of Requirement,” Luna said.

“Good.”

It was a good plan. The carefully-laid distractions, enough chaos to buy them time to sneak in and out quickly. But it required precision timing. If something went wrong…well, she knew what specific brand of torture likely awaited.

She breathed the frigid air and let it fill her lungs. “Okay, let’s go.”

Luna gave a stiff nod and turned toward the door down the stairs, and to almost certain danger.

Necessary danger. Because above everything else, a message had to be sent. They would not take this horror lying down.

She let her eyes linger a second longer on the birch tree near the shore of the lake.

“Wherever you are, this is for you.”

[ryanwrites05]

November 7 - Work

@hinnymicrofic

A/N: so this ended up being longer than a microfic (~1200 words). Whoops. I’m not sorry.

She was determined. Years of being overlooked - stealing rides on her brothers’ brooms in the quiet night. Learning how to live and love flying again after Tom made her believe she would never amount to anything.

But flying saved her. Healed her. Became a part of her and wove itself into the piece of her soul that Tom tried to take.

And now it was her time. She would prove to everyone that she is a quidditch player, not just a substitute. Someone who deserves it. Someone who earns it.

Suppressing a groan from the soreness building in her legs, she climbed through the portrait hole. It was dark, and had been dark for some time now. So it was a surprise that the Common Room wasn't totally empty.

She smirked as she observed him alone in the room, sitting on the sofa facing the fireplace. His head was draped over the back of the sofa, his glasses askew on the bridge of his nose, soft snores emitting from his mouth.

Her eyes snagged on his mouth and she resisted the old urge to think about what it would be like to snog him. It was a silly crush, from a long time ago. She was different now. They were friends after all. Weren't they?

She plopped down next to him on the sofa, and he let out a startled "oof", pulling his wand and immediately scanning the room.

She opted for humor to hide the sadness of the truth that he probably did that for good reason. "You know, you would be a lot more convincing if you hadn't just been snoring louder than a hippogriff."

He immediately turned to her and dropped his wand - a lopsided smirk playing on his lips. "Because you're the one to talk, I'm fairly sure loud snoring is a Weasley trait at this point. What with your mid-summer pond naps."

"I do not snore!"

"Oh, so it was Ron who suddenly grew long bright red hair and started wearing bikinis by the pond?"

She refused to blush, not because of the fact that she may have been snoring this summer, but more his subtle admission that he had been watching her then, and that maybe she possibly considered that potential outcome when she chose napping locations.

"Could have been," she said, trying to sound nonchalant and playful as she settled back against the couch.

"What were you doing out here?"

Something passed across his face, and he looked at the fire, trying to sound normal. He wasn't fooling her. "I had stuff with Dumbledore earlier. I just couldn't quite go to sleep yet."

"Until you did, you mean."

He smirked at her. "Yeah, right." He eyed her for a minute, him just now registering her broom and clothes. "What were you doing anyway?"

"Flying - getting practice in for tryouts," she said, trying to appear as confident as possible. "I'm determined to be the best chaser Gryffindor has ever seen." She played it off bravely, but the doubt simmered under the surface.

He hummed and appeared thoughtful for a minute. "You know, I think you could be."

"Be serious," she said, playfully shoving his arm with her forearm. He let out a chuckle that warmed her instantly.

"I am," and his brows pinched more thoughtfully. "I mean look, Katie is good, real good. But, you have better vision than she does, and you are probably faster. I know that from experience this summer. You can fly circles around people. I don't see why you could not be the best. And it's not like you aren't working at it. We played quidditch all summer."

She smiled at the memories, warm summer days on end with flying, and Ron complaining.

A thought bubbled to the surface in her mind. And Harry. She looked for anything to say to get her mind off of that particular thought. They were friends now. Just friends...which was absolutely and totally fine with her.

"It's what I want to do for work you know...after Hogwarts and everything." She set her gaze on the dancing embers of the fire. She wasn't sure what made her say it. Divulge her deepest, most personal secret. To him. Now.

She felt his eyes on her again and fought the urge to blush. She didn't do that anymore. Worked too hard not to.

"Yeah...I can see that."

Her eyes snapped immediately to his, and she almost lost herself in them. His face was thoughtful, like she was some puzzle he couldn't quite work out.

"You mean that?"

His brow furrowed, not understanding her uncertainty. As if she hadn't spent every waking day questioning whether she had enough, would ever have enough.

"What do you mean? Of course, I do."

It wasn't possible to hide the smile that erupted across her face, or the warmth that filled her. Like he hadn't just been the first person who told her she could do it. Like it was obvious.

Not noticing this, Harry pressed on. "I mean, look at it this way, Gin. If you're this good now, imagine how good you will be in three years. And no one works harder at it than you. And you weren't even on the team full time last year. They would be crazy not to take you when you get there."

She ignored the nickname, and the unmistakable truth that she wouldn't have let anyone else get away with calling her that. "I don't know, got to make it past the new Gryffindor quidditch captain first to get on full time. I heard he's a bit barmy at times."

He pinched his eyes and let out a bark of a laugh that made her stomach flip.

"Well, if Wood and Angelina are anything to go by, I think that's part of the job description. I'll try to be less of an arse this year than last, but no promises."

"I'll hold you to that, then," she said, the smile still playing on her lips. Merlin, she was borderline flirting now. Friends...they were friends. And she had Dean - she liked Dean. She quickly scanned the room for a change of subject.

"So, what about you? Planning on putting your expert diving grabs to the professional test?"

He let out a small laugh before his face fell, back to the serious and determined look. Her heart sank at the loss of the warmth his smile provided. "Haven't really thought about that to be honest. Tonks is an Auror and Kingsley, so I think, maybe..." he trailed off shrugging, his eyes back to finding the fire. "It just seems right."

Neither one of them spoke for a moment. She knew he was thinking of Voldemort, and broken prophecies, and destinies. She silently kicked herself for not expecting it.

She picked up her broom and got up, feeling his eyes on her again. "Well, I am knackered, so I am off to shower and bed."

He gave her a brief smile. "Yeah, okay. See you."

She was about to turn, but something made her pause. "You know, whatever you decide to do...Auror...quidditch star...moody potion master...". He snorted, and she smirked at him. "It's your choice. And you aren't alone."

She felt it then again, his eyes holding on her, something burning behind them. Something she had just started to notice recently. Something different.

"Thanks, Gin."

[ryanwrites05]

June 21 - Slytherin

@hinnymicrofic

A/N: I’ve had this scene in mind for a longer 8th year and post-Hogwarts fic (and ultimately postwar Hinny series) I have been working on. Context here is that Harry is (somewhat against his choice) currently back at Hogwarts for 8th year, and he and Ginny have unresolved stuff going on.

Content warnings: language/f-bombs directed at Harry for, once again, not thinking something through

“Slytherin”

The portrait hole barely opened and he could already feel the tension in the room. He should have expected the reaction, really.

With Auror classes and his own training and studying, he just sort of forgot that he hadn’t actually told anyone else after the conversation with McGonagall, Hooch, Cho and Daphne. It was only yesterday after all.

Plus, he’d been giving her space like she wanted, or so he rationalized. But he knew he should have bucked up the courage and told her directly after McGonagall gave the okay. In hindsight, before would have been better.

But he didn’t. And that was a mistake.

Upon entering the Common Room, he looked around and found Hermione looking at him exasperatedly. Ron was standing awkwardly next to her by the fire, giving him his best you fucked up now look. Peakes and Coote were huddled near with Demelza and Sophie, all avoiding his eye, the cowards.

Then his eyes caught hers and he knew he was in deep trouble.

Definitely should have run it by her before.

Her face hardened immediately, eyes flashing. She took the last few steps down the stairway in one jump and crossed the room quickly.

Hands on her hips that even with her short stature oddly reminded him of Mrs. Weasley, she let him have it.

“WHAT THE FUCK, POTTER?!”

He blinked at her lamely. “I…”

“SLYTHERIN?! YOU’RE FLYING FOR SLYTHERIN?!”

“They don’t have anyone…”, he retorted, but it had little effect.

“I DON’T CARE IF THEY HAD TO SIGN UP THE DAMN BLOODY BARON UP HIMSELF!”

It was plain for anyone to see the anger, the real hurt was much more hidden. He took a step forward and reached out, but her wary eyes and half step back made him pause. He lowered his voice.

“I know what this means to you, Gin.”

“DON’T-“

But, he pressed on quickly. “And I want that for you - I do. But they don’t have anyone. They could barely field a team this year, considering everything. And with Astoria now out, Hooch was going to make them forfeit…”

It was true, Slytherin house barely had over thirty students this year, and eight of them were first years. Malfoy disappeared, and so many others connected to Death Eaters. It was a minor miracle that Slytherin house could even field a team.

In truth, despite those disadvantages, Slytherin had done all right. Gryffindor had won all their matches, of course. Ginny had been nothing short of spectacular, in addition to a fantastic captain. Watching her fly was a thing of beauty, not that that was necessarily new information to him.

But, Ravenclaw had flown well too, and if Ravenclaw won the match by 200 points or more, they would win the Cup, and a Slytherin forfeit only nets them 170. If he caught the snitch early, then Gryffindor wins it all. But if Ravenclaw pulls further ahead or he doesn’t catch it….well.

He knew how much Ginny wanted to win the Cup, what with the professional quidditch tryouts looming and scouts at every match.

“It’s not right,” he continued after a moment. “They don’t deserve that…”.

He had tried to find ways to reach out to Slytherins since the start of the year - to somehow show that he didn’t think all of them were Death Eaters. But they were just as untrusting of him, if not more so, than others were of them. It was all part of the awful recovery from a war kids had no business being a part of.

They stood there, only feet apart, eyes set on each other. He knew why she was truly upset with him, and he knew she understood why he had to do it.

A familiar flicker of annoyance flashed behind her eyes, and her face mercifully softened. She started towards him, but then hesitated again. It hurt. He desperately wanted to reach out to her, to pull her in and hold her and never let go. But he hadn’t earned that right back, not yet.

Whatever it was passed, and she sidestepped him toward the portrait hole. Pausing at the entrance, she peered back but avoided his gaze. “Just let me know when pre-match practice is so I can heckle the prat seeker in green.”

[ryanwrites05]

June 20 - discover

@hinnymicrofic

A/N: So uhhh, this was new for me. Another scene I’ve always pictured for them in the summer after the war. I think it would be extremely difficult for both Harry and Ginny to actually talk for a while, which would lead to other issues. I think the vision of Harry dead, on top of everything else, would haunt her quite a bit. She was mentally prepared for the possibility/likelihood of it happening following their DH kiss, but facing the reality (and then him coming back) would make it hard for her to reconcile him being alive.

Content warnings: mature/nsfw themes; referencing (consensual) sexual activity; underage

Under the cut because of the tags:

_____________________________________________

He slept in the Burrow’s attic a lot that first summer after the war, usually when staying at Hogwarts was too much for him. Plus, Ron insisted they be together as much as possible - he supposed months on the run together and everything that happened during the Battle made him want to keep an eye on everyone. He didn’t blame him.

He found out rather quickly that “together” certainly had its limits. For example, he definitely didn’t want to stay together in Ron’s room, what with the sound of Ron and Hermione doing that. No amount of privacy charms could make him forget those noises.

So, the thankfully now ghoul-free attic it was. Which was how he found himself one early July evening, staring out the small half-moon window watching the thunderstorm. The loud bangs of thunder and lightning were less scary than what awaited him once he closed his eyes.

A small noise alerted him and Ginny poked her head inside the room, then upon seeing him, she entered and closed the door softly behind her. They hadn’t talked much, not really. Not about the important stuff he said he would, like horcruxes and pensieve memories. It was still too hard, too guilt-ridden.

She was wearing a soft, oversized Harpies shirt and short cotton shorts, her hair tied up in some loose bun. In a word: beautiful. Captivating would have also been appropriate.

Her face was set, determined, eyes blazing. Whatever she intended, he knew he didn’t stand a chance. She slowly walked over and sat on the bed.

Vaguely realizing he hadn’t said anything yet, he attempted to say something, but she quickly shushed him with a finger to his lips. His skin tingled underneath.

Another flash of lightning lit up her face and he caught the hint of fear and grief behind her eyes. It hurt every time he saw the grief there, knowing his part in it. He reached a hand to hers and she caught it and clung onto it.

“You’re alive,” she breathed softly. A fresh wave of guilt for the things he’d done and still couldn’t talk about washed over him. He rubbed a small circle across her hand with his thumb and nodded.

She gave a brief jerk of her head more in affirmation to herself, and he wasn’t sure she believed him. Her face set again and the determined look was back. “I need you to show me.”

“What?” He asked, utterly confused for a moment. He studied her face, the flicker of nervous uncertainty masked by resolve and a flash of something that looked like desire made her meaning clear. His stomach dropped. What she was suggesting was preposterous, potentially disastrous.

“Show me,” she insisted, bringing his hand to her chest, settling it over her heart. He could feel the beating of it and his stomach calmed, then he felt the swell of her breasts and his mind short-circuited. Her eyes were almost pleading, and he knew there was no miscommunication about what she was implying.

She didn’t wait for him to respond as she snaked her hand around the back of his head and pulled him to her, their lips crashing together. It was the tonic he somehow forgot he lived on.

He’d never quite appreciated just how soft her lips were before, and how wonderful it felt to kiss her. His other hand snaked up to her hair and it took everything he had to not succumb willingly and completely to her.

He begrudgingly broke off to make sure, but her look silenced him.

“Every…,” she sniffed and took a deep breath to try and compose herself, “every time I close my eyes you’re dead. And I…I need to know that this you …the one I can touch…isn’t. I need you to show me, Harry.”

He looked in her eyes, studying the golden flecks in her chocolate brown for any sign of doubt, but found none. He understood it deeply, the need to discern nightmares from reality.

“I’m not…I haven’t,” he took a deep breath, steadying himself. “I’ve never done this before…”

She gave a small smile. “Me either.” She then rested her forehead against his, like she always used to do after a particularly enjoyable snog, and he surrendered.

Their lips were on each other again quickly. Strikes of lightning and thunder continued, masking their first time together. Time full of reverence and proof. Time spent together wholly - to drive away ghosts, to discover who they were now and who they could possibly be again.

[ryanwrites05]

A/N: I’ve always had this scene in mind for them. The prompt for today gave me an excuse to put a few words to it. Hope you enjoy

______________________________

June 19 - Parents

@hinnymicrofic

December, 2000

The now familiar sight always made her smile, as she paused just outside the room. He was by the fire at the Burrow, laying on his back slowly raising Teddy up and down. The squeals of the toddler’s laughter echoed through the room. Holiday decorations surrounded them and she felt well and truly happy. Joyful, even.

Yes, she thought, this is what we fought for.

Harry let out a bark of laughter in tune with Teddy’s giggle and another wave of gratitude rushed over her -for him.

With everything he endured as a child - a young life filled with resentment and cruelty from his relatives - and then responsibilities as the Chosen One and rebuilding after the War. Yet despite all that, he was here in her living room, loving his godson, her family and her. It was quite the miracle from where they were just three years ago.

She subconsciously brought a hand to her stomach, still flat despite the other miracle now growing inside her.

She would tell him tonight, she decided. He was going to be a father - they were going to be parents. They already were for all intents and purposes, as Teddy let out another squeal of laughter as Harry tickled him again.

She knew he would be shell shocked, happy and terrified all at the same time. But she would be there with him through all of it. As they always did things now - together.

[ryanwrites05]

June 18 - Luna

@hinnymicrofic

He stepped out of the warmth of Shell Cottage, breathing in the sea air. It was salty, humid, and oddly calming. He’d like to spend more time by the sea, he thought, if he survived the war.

Anytime he thought of life after the war, and he allowed himself to imagine he survived, as improbable as that would be, his thoughts strayed to her. Praying to any god that would listen for her safety.

The war could have him. Demanded him, really. But it couldn’t have her.

He pushed his hands into his pockets and mentally chewed on the plans they had been making. He would put his friends in danger yet again. Breaking in to Gringotts was impossible Griphook said - a suicide mission.

Griphook didn’t know the half of it. He’d lost count of how many times he had almost died at this point. Didn’t want to think about how many more close calls he would have before the prophecy was fulfilled, one way or the other.

As he sat down on a large rock overlooking the cliff and looked out to the sea, his mind wandered back to her. What was she doing, now that she was tucked away at Muriel’s? Probably hating it, needing to do something. Was she too thinking about him?

“May I sit?”, Luna’s airy voice called out from behind him, breaking him away from Ginny’s comfort. He nodded. She sat down next to him on the rock and gave him a small smile. “Thank you again for rescuing us. It was rather awful there.”

The mention of Malfoy Manor brought back terrible memories - Ron’s panic, Hermione’s screams, and holding Dobby’s lifeless body. He couldn’t talk about it, not yet - maybe not ever, so he nodded instead.

They sat there in companionable silence for a few moments, and it reminded him again of her. How she would always let him have space to think - to be. Not the Chosen One, but just Harry. She never knew everything, his promise to Dumbledore forced him to keep so much from her. Merlin, he missed her.

“She misses you too, you know.” Luna said, still looking out at the sea, the light of dusk dimming the distant view of the waves. His eyes shot to her, and she smiled warmly back at him.

“She always says you tend to brood a lot. you are rather moody at times, but I know the truth.”

He just blinked at her.

She smiled. “It’s harder than that, isn’t it? People who’ve lost loved ones like we have…you never really lose that sense of loneliness that follows it. It makes you cling to the ones you still have more tightly.”

“Yeah,” he mumbled. He hated to think about it, to think about how many more they would lose before the end.

He looked back at the sea. The sky had turned even more darkish grey, and he thought that rather fit.

He sighed and allowed his head to drop to his hands. Noticing she was wearing a thin yellow and purple jumper, he took off his jacket and gave it to her. As she put it on, he thought it odd her wearing something so plain.

“Thanks, Luna. I…I miss her, too. She always knew just what to say. How to make things better.”

He breathed out a long sigh. “It hurts not having her close.”

He wasn’t sure why he was saying all this. Perhaps because it was Luna, and she always did understand this side of him.

Luna turned and her wide eyes were unusually determined. “You will again.”

[ryanwrites05]

First time writing (publicly) 😀

@hinnymicrofic

June 17 Prompt - Fast

She was intoxicating. Radiant even. She didn’t just glow like the setting sun - she was the sun. And being burned didn’t really sound all that bad.

She moved fast and almost reckless at times, more deliberate at others. And all he could do was sit there and watch her. It was all beautiful to him.

Like he said, intoxicating.

Which was why he completely missed the bludger racing toward him, yet again. It was the third time today, he grumbled internally as he felt the impact against his stomach.

He fell to the ground, thankfully only a few feet away.

As he lay looking up, he saw her flying down toward him, her blazing look and mane of red hair flowing fully behind her. Any breath he had left vanished. Peakes was mumbling some apology, but he couldn’t hear it as he watched her. All he could see, hear, sense was her racing down toward him.

He vaguely registered Ron’s mumbled annoyance in the background. “Bloody hell, not again.” But then she landed next to him and touched her hand to his shoulder and he suddenly wondered who had been talking before.

“Are we sure he’s qualified to be seeker?” Demelza shot, earning a round of snickers. “That’s the sixth time this week,” Cootes said, stifling his own laughter.

“Shut it, you lot,” she snapped, turning to glare at them. The turn of her hair caused the flowery scent of her to assault his nostrils and he breathed deeply.

She turned back down and smirked, laying a hand back on his shoulder. A fire erupted on his skin at her touch.

“But they do have a point, Potter. Are you sure you’ve got the right prescription for those glasses?”

He chuckled, trying to think fast of anything to hide the real reason he was distracted.

“Thought I’d trade with Dumbledore today, but I don’t think they work right. No twinkle.”

She grinned and a wholly different fire burned inside him.

Everyone took back to the air as he waved the team off. He made to get up but caught sight of her again in the air, this time shushing a laughing Katie and Demelza. As he watched her smile and laugh, he felt the low throb of his newest bludger-induced bruise. Only one thought coursed through him as she shot him a quick smile and took off with the quaffle.

Worth it.