The Chaser's Heart

Year 5: The Defense

Irina was kept in the Hospital Wing for two nights before Madam Pomfrey allowed her to return to the dormitory. And then we had our victory party. No use having it while the star of the match was laid up in the Hospital Wing.

Everyone was in good spirits, especially when Madam Pomfrey informed us that Irina had suffered very little damage considering the nature of the injury, would make a full recovery, and would be well enough to return to team practises in a fortnight.

Observant as ever, and boyfriend or not, McNully wasted no time in the two days Irina was kept in bed in going over the match with me. Play by play. Normally, I didn't mind his constructive criticism or praise for things that I'd done particularly well. This particular analysis was agonizing because I knew I hadn't played in top form for at least the first half hour of the match. And McNully had certainly noticed. He gave me an hour-long speech on training exercises to help me keep focussed on the match and improve my agility.

I took it all well, I thought so anyway, but when he told me I ought to start getting up early to meditate for an hour before lessons, I lost my cool.

'McNully, the only reason I was so distracted on Saturday was because you kept shouting my name at the top of your lungs!'

He looked dumbfounded for a fraction of a second, then he grinned.

'That can't be right,' he said thoughtfully. 'I've been shouting your name at matches for the last two years.'

'Yeah, well, it's different now,' I told him, willing my face not to go pink and trying to maintain eye contact instead of averting my gaze to the ground like I really wanted to.

'Is it?' He asked, grin widening.

'Yes!' I said, probably a bit louder than I ought to have. 'It is! Blimey, McNully, I...'

I trailed off, not entirely sure how to put my feelings in words. He was much better putting words together than I was. How was I supposed to tell him, that my heart clenched every time I heard his voice should Knight? Or even worse when he used my full name. It had never bothered me before. I hadn't even noticed it before. Other had, I had just been a bit oblivious. Was there a way to go back to the way it was? Or would this get easier the longer it went on?

Or what if he didn't like me as much when I didn't play Quidditch as well as he knew I could?

'What?' He prompted me when I said nothing. 'You what?'

'It's nothing,' I tried to look nonchalant.

'No, it isn't,' he chuckled. 'I'm not going to stop shouting your name, that's my job. As the commentator.'

'I know that!' I told him. 'I'll be fine, I'll get used to it.'

'You're not already used to it?' He raised an eyebrow at me. 'It's been over two years!'

'I have a headache,' I groaned and rubbed my temples.

I had no clue how a relationship worked. And this one was so new. We'd only really been out once, but we were good mates before all of this. I felt weird and awkward, but maybe everyone did. At the beginning anyway.

'Maybe you could wear ear plugs during matches,' he suggested.

I must have made a face at him because he burst out laughing.

'I need to be able to hear the others, and listen for Bludgers!' I told him.

'It was worth it for the look on your face,' he said, still grinning.

I groaned again.

'Alright, give us a kiss and then go off to bed,' he said.

I couldn't help my cheeks going pink that time. Was this my new normal? Giving McNully a kiss goodnight every night before bed?