Isn't He Lovely • A Fred Weasley Story

t h e c h a s e r a n d t h e b e a t e r

The day is finally here. Quidditch tryouts.

It's a rather cloudy Saturday morning, and I'm anxiously munching on breakfast in a sweatshirt with a Gryffindor jersey pulled over it. Ron is sitting beside me, nervous as well. 

I'm spooning in another mouthful of cereal when I glance over at Ron, who's been staring at his eggs and toast since the moment he sat down. 

"Come on, Ron, you've got to eat," I urge him. "How do you expect to be a good keeper when your stomach is loud as a whale?"

"She's right, Ron," Hermione says softly across from him, who looks up at the boy nervously.

He takes a reluctant bite of his eggs and puts the fork back down, sighing while running his hands over his face. 

"Don't worry about it. It's just tryouts; we'll do great. Harry'll be nice," I comfort him.

"Well, he can't be biased," Ron croaks. "I'm just nervous I'm gonna totally flop."

"You won't. I'll be there with you. It's my first time trying out, too," I point out, and he nods.

We finish our breakfast just as Harry walks into the Great Hall, wearing his jersey as well. He has a grin on his face as we walk out to meet him, the four of us walking towards the quidditch field. Hermione's coming to support, which I think is sweet.

We make our way onto the field with our brooms, Ron gripping the one he received as his prefect award. As we walk onto the field, Fred and George are already out there goofily shoving each other around and looking quite excited. Fred's jersey hangs across his broad shoulders as his hair is lightly blowing in the breeze, his smile eager and eyes glimmering as he talks to his brother. I take a shaky breath as we walk closer.

Ron and I approach the large group of riled up students trying for the team, all of them talking and pushing each other around loudly. Ron stands in front of them like a statue, a nervous look on his face. I walk over next to the twins.

"Hey, there she is," Fred says. "How we feelin', Elle?"

"A bit nervous, actually, Freddie," I say bluntly, and he scrunches his nose and shakes his head as to brush it off.

"Nah, you'll be brilliant," he says casually, then wraps an arm around my back to briefly tug me into his side while adding, "and you look great already in that Quidditch jersey."

My heart nearly skips a beat at his words and I look down at the grass. I can feel him smiling at me.

"Um..." Harry starts, but the group continues to chatter over his voice. I look up at him. "Okay, this morning I'm going to be putting you all through a few drills, just to assess your strengths..."

Nobody hears him, Harry standing there awkwardly with Ginny firmly stationed next to him.

"Quiet... please..." he attempts again, his voice barely making a difference.

"SHUT IT!" Ginny shouts, and the group immediately grows silent. She sends me a wink and I smile.

"Thanks," Harry says quickly. "Alright, erm... now then, remember, just because you made the team last year does not guarantee you a spot this year. Is that clear?"

The group murmurs, barely acknowledging him.

"Good," he says weakly. 

The group scatters among the field, readying themselves for the drills, but still talking to each other. The twins wish me good luck before casually striding over to their spots, and I take a breath.