tradition

08

Briar woke up that morning with a giddy feeling bubbling inside her chest, an electric current of excitement coursing through her entire body as she stretched her arms above her head. It was a Quidditch game day, and the anticipation that always came with those events seemed to flood her veins, making it impossible for her to suppress the wide smile that spread across her face even before her feet touched the floor. The sunlight streaming in through the window bathed the room in a warm, golden glow, perfectly mirroring the lighthearted joy that Briar felt within herself. Georgia, still buried beneath her covers in the bed beside hers, groggily cracked open one eye, blinking in the room's bright light. "You look rather happy this morning," Georgia muttered, her voice still thick with sleep as she sat up, rubbing her eyes and yawning. There was a hint of suspicion in her tone, but also curiosity, as if she had already sensed that something was different, though Briar wasn't ready to explain what just yet.

Still humming softly to herself, Briar nodded in response to Georgia's comment but didn't offer much more than that. Instead, she turned her attention to rifling through her trunk in search of her clothes for the day. After a few moments, she pulled out a pair of her favorite well-worn jeans and a tight, dark red long-sleeved shirt, comfortable yet fitted just right for the chilly autumn weather outside. After slipping on her clothes and tying her boots, Briar turned her attention to something that had been waiting for her at the foot of her bed: Harry's Quidditch jersey, carefully folded and laid out from the night before. Her breath caught in her throat for a split second, her heart fluttering wildly as she hesitated, holding the jersey in her hands. The fabric was familiar, comforting in a way she couldn't describe, and as she clutched it against her chest, a warm blush spread across her cheeks, flooding her with a mixture of embarrassment and elation. She hadn't told anyone yet, not even Georgia or Eloise, but last night had marked a turning point for her—a moment she hadn't anticipated, but one that had brought her immense happiness, more than she ever could have imagined.

Briar stood there for a few moments, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the fabric of Harry's jersey as her mind replayed everything that had happened. The night before had been unexpected, like stepping off the edge of something familiar into the unknown, but it had been exhilarating too. She could still feel the warmth of Harry's presence, the softness of his touch, the way he had looked at her right before. Her heart had fluttered again and she felt the heat rising to her cheeks once more. She smiled to herself, biting her lip as if the memory was too precious to share just yet. It was a secret she wanted to hold onto for a little while longer, to keep close to her heart where no one else could touch it. But even as she tried to hide it, her happiness was impossible to contain, radiating from her in a way that Georgia had immediately picked up on, even in her half-asleep state. Briar sighed softly, glancing over at her friend, who was now fully awake and giving her a curious look, clearly wanting to know more.

Georgia's eyes, still heavy with sleep, widened in shock and excitement as she saw Briar casually pulling Harry's Quidditch jersey over her head. The drowsiness that had clouded her expression only moments ago vanished, replaced with a sudden and sharp curiosity. She sat up straighter, fully awake now, her gaze locked on her friend. "Is that... Harry's jersey?" she asked, her voice carrying the weight of her disbelief and intrigue. Her eyes scanned the familiar fabric, taking in the way it draped over Briar's shoulders, as if trying to piece together what this new development meant. Briar's face flushed a deep pink, a color that only seemed to deepen the longer she stood under Georgia's scrutinizing gaze. She had been trying to hide her smile, to play it off as something casual, but the truth was too sweet to keep buried. With a hesitant nod, she finally admitted, "It is." 

Georgia's reaction was immediate and full of enthusiasm. Her eyes lit up with a brightness that was impossible to ignore, and before Briar could say anything more, Georgia gasped loudly, her hand flying to her mouth in an exaggerated gesture of disbelief. "You... oh my God... you and Harry kissed, didn't you?" she exclaimed, her voice rising in pitch with each word. It wasn't just a question; it was a revelation. The shock in her voice quickly melted into pure excitement, her grin stretching wide across her face as if she had just uncovered the best secret in the world. The sheer joy in her tone was infectious, making Briar's heart race even faster as the memory of the kiss from the night before flooded back into her mind. She hadn't even said anything, yet here Georgia was, already piecing it all together as if she had been there to witness the whole thing. Briar's mouth dropped open in stunned silence, her mind racing to figure out how her friend had guessed so accurately. "How did you know?" she asked, still flustered by how effortlessly Georgia had connected the dots. It was as if her feelings for Harry had been written all over her face, clear for anyone who truly knew her to see.