"And that's how you catch a Quaffle, Ron."
"Come on, one more round."
"We really don't want you to lose a seventh time." Overly confident, Allison threw the Quaffle from one hand to the other, then passed it on to Harry, who was hovering ten feet away from her on his broom, grinning amusedly.
It was two days after they had gotten their O.W.L. results.
The air was buzzing with tiny, fluffy bumblebees and butterflies in iridescent colours, flying over the purple lavender bushes, wild blooming, deeply red corn roses, and a bed of catnip, which had become Crookshanks new favourite place to simply exist, slashing at bees from time to time. The orchard had dropped its overripe apples and plums into the high grown grass, making it a feast for wasps and the gnome family inhabiting the garden of the Burrow.
As the only one who did not play Quidditch, despite having been asked to join countless times, Hermione had created her own little oasis between a high grown beech tree and the door to the kitchen. She was sitting on a white and blue striped deckchair, her feet in a bucket full of cold water, an enormous, broad-brimmed straw hat on her head, and a thick novel her parents had sent her in her lap, occasionally leaning back and watching them play.
The sun was burning down on them; they had used up almost all of the sunscreen, and the heat-protection charm Mrs. Weasley had applied over the garden this morning was wearing off. The heat also brought out Allie's freckles, and if she had had red hair, she for sure would have passed as Ginny's older sister.
Allison brushed a loose strand of hair that must've escaped out of her bun behind her ear. It had grown over the last few weeks, now reaching past her collarbones and shimmering in a rich, warm brown tone. (Okay, maybe, she had used some magical shampoo to help the growing process before she had come to the Burrow for her summer stay, but that was a secret between her and her bathroom.)
"It's not fair, I want to switch the teams up again," Ginny complained.
She had her arms placed on the stick of her broom, her red cheeks gleaming like round apples in the sun.
"We said we'd not switch teams within the day," said Harry promptly, driving his hand through his hair. It had grown to a length where he could have pulled off a teeny ponytail on top of his head if he did not refuse so much to do so.
"Easy for you to say, you always get to pick Allie while I'm left with this nutcase!" She said stubbornly.
She was right, though: It was usually Ron who got to pick his teammate first, and he exclusively chose Ginny, simply because she was the better player out of the girls.
"Blame Ron, not me," He replied simply, still smiling.
Harry definitely did not mind this rule at all, he had made it up after all.
"No, Ginny, look," Ron said, trying to explain his seemingly brilliant tactic for the hundredth time, "you're a good Chaser, I'm an excellent Keeper, it makes more sense that way. Technically, we should have a 100% chance to win all the -"
"You're a rubbish Keeper! And they both got faster brooms -"
"I am not -"
"You are not playing well because you don't have a prize to win at the end of the day," interfered Hermione loudly, not looking up from her book. "You've got to play for something, like dessert."
"More dessert sounds great," Ron said, nodding. "I'm in."
"You can't just get more dessert when you win," argued Allison, "you always have more dessert than everyone else anyway."
YOU ARE READING
WE'LL TAKE ON THE WORLD ; h.j.p.
Fanfiction─ "i won't let go with you by my side, the calm, the storm we'll face it all." She had read about love all her life. Never had she imagined she would ever experience it herself, especially with dark forces rising to power and a war approaching fast...
