❛ASTERIA EDWARDS was your average, typical eleven-year-old child stuck in a pandemic with her mother Isabella Diggory until she found out where she truly came from.. and where she truly belonged...❜
[extended summary inside]
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harry potte...
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'Hey. I know it's been a while. But I'd like to invite you to the Quidditch finale happening this weekend, on Sunday, 9 am sharp. Looking forward to see you there. Regards, Asteria.'
That Sunday had been anything but usual for Harry. He didn't remember the last time he'd been this excited for a Quidditch match.
Not that he normally wasn't, but this one was different.
He was playing the final as a Captain. And he was playing against Ria.
It was perfect.
He slept well— woke up without a hitch, without pondering about anything else, and went straight to breakfast. On the way, he looked out the window; the sky was clear, the breeze a little warm. Ideal conditions, really.
The expected buzz in the Great Hall when he reached there was comforting. Seas of red and green scattered for now, later to be split in two distinct sections on the stands.
Time went by as he sat amongst his fellow Gryffindors— some dressed for the match already while some, like him, filled their bellies first.
He received a whole bunch of good wishes as well as sneers before he left his seat. He looked around the Hall, trying to find Ria, thinking they could at least wish each other good luck instead of meeting on the field directly.
But his anticipation to see her fell flat on its face as she walked in laughing with Zabini. It didn't seem like she had even noticed him until he had called her name.
She grinned wide then. "Harry! Good morning."
He greeted her back, unfortunately having to greet Zabini too since he was right there. "I see you aren't in your gear yet.." He said, very distracted by the redness in her face and the sheen of sweat on her neck.
"Well— I could say the same thing." She laughed with a shrug. "Nevermind.. I just woke up early. Couldn't sleep. So I thought a jog would do me better. And I took his arse with me." She jabbed Zabini with her elbow.
Harry nodded, trying to smile as he looked at him. "Refreshing, was it?" He hoped the displeasure wasn't too evident.
But then again, he was Harry Potter. Blaise could barely hold his smile as he read through his sarcasm. "Hmm.. yeah it was."
"It was supposed to be." Ria corrected, glaring. "Until he turned it into a damn race. Even though I told him I was already too tired."
"What? You were the one chasing me!" He retorted. And Ria widened her eyes at him. "All I did was trick her into promising me that if we win today, she'd kiss—"
A hand connected with the back of his head, and whatever word that was about to leave his mouth flew out of existence.
"Get your arse to breakfast, Zabini. You already take too much time to get ready." She muttered in a single breath.
