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𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗘𝗧𝗬-𝗦𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗡 — 𝗧𝗛𝗥𝗘𝗘 𝗕𝗥𝗢𝗢𝗠𝗦𝗧𝗜𝗖𝗞𝗦 —
THE AIR WAS COLD OVER THE HOGWARTS GROUNDS THAT DAY, YOUR THICK PINK-TO-GREEN HAIR ACTING LIKE A SECONDARY SCARF ATOP YOUR ALREADY THICK YELLOW-AND-BLACK HONEY BADGER SCARF.
the day ron had been dreading and anticipating all at once had finally arrived — quidditch tryouts.
you had been softly encouraging him all month. slipping in praises and off-handedly mentioning how good he was. you hoped it was enough to calm his nerves even a little.
but as the boy stood in the pitch, the only one besides ginny not actively fighting over a broom, your stomach twinged nervously.
harry's eyes flicked over the bickering students with brewing annoyance in his eyes, feeling like a disappointed mother who can't control her kids.
harry, the freshly elected quidditch captain, awkwardly tries to hush the group, who all ignore his attempts, still quarrelling pointlessly over what broom they want and think is the fastest.
"shut it!!"
ginny's voice shuts them up in an instant, everyone finally falling into place as they begrudingly accept the brooms they ended up with.
you shake your head with a sigh, hermione just nodding grimly to your expression.
it takes a long moment before the group finally rise into the air, kicked over their brooms and hovering absently.
the drill was to play as two separate teams, ron as the keeper of one team, and cormac mclaggen as the keeper of the other.
you don't particularly like mclaggen.
regardless, you were cheering for ron.
you cheer loudly, "go ron! wooooooh!"
ginny took the lead instantly, squashing anyone elses attempts at taking the spot of star player.
but even as good as she was, cormac mclaggen was good enough in his position that even her swerving hits failted to get passed him.
he shot between hoops, blocking each quaffle with trained ease, even absentmindedly blowing a strand of his hair from his face mid block.
"go on, ron!" you shriek towards the ginger-haired boy. only twenty minutes in and he was looking as dejected as could be.
he, too, had managed to block every hit, but not with remotely near as much pazazz. even once a fluke.
everyone still cheered him on, but the flare had dimmed.
lavendar brown cheered her loudest, cheeks flushed and rosey.
