( 𝙞𝙣 𝙖𝙣 𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙩 ― 𝙙𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙤 𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙛𝙤𝙮 / 𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙮 𝙥𝙤𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧 )

[ONE | WORD TO THE FELLOW]

THEIR STICKS SLAPPING AGAINST THE ICE RINK COULD BE HEARD FROM THE LUNCHROOM. The Gryffindors were training, and they were training hard. With their national championship game against their long-time rivals, the (Sinuous) Slytherins, nearing and the risks higher than ever, it was sure a hell of a reason to spend every second from the brink of dawn working their arses off; not returning home until after midnight, sweat literally dripping down their foreheads.

While one group ran up and down the bleachers, another stretched along the floor while the third continued to race up and down the rink; all moving in sync. The captain, Harry Potter, threw constant glances around the room at each group as he multi-tasked leading the group on the ice.

While he was overall nice guy, whenever he saw potential within you to do better than your showing performance, he pushed you to your limits (which is why some people walking on the other side of the door heard him yelling out things such as;

 'C'mon Neville, get lower bend those knees!' 

'Ginny, you're quicker than that; longer glides, harder strides. Same goes for you too, Dean. You two try out those crossovers. '

'Mione, you know you can swing harder; I've seen that left hook in action.'

'Fred and George, I like those hits but I want their teeth to shake whenever they feel your impact; harder checks. Flick those wrists and put more force into your shoulders. Count those strides as well, we don't want charging calls out there.'

There was another long round before the whistle sounded, "Alright, guys, great warm-up." 

A huge sigh and cheer was shared amongst the team as they either got a water or gatorade or something of the sort; downing it quickly before meeting up with their friends on the bleachers--collapsing with laughs as they commented on one another's current appearance.

However, they stopped the moment they heard yelling in the distance,

'Emmy, be quiet or they'll heard you!'

'You're the one yelling, Ella!'

Grumbling was heard before two brown-eyed and brunette twins--one a boy, the other a girl--looking in their early middle school years--ran into the gym; their faces flushed from running, "Harry Potter?"

"That'd be me." He said, standing up and walking towards them.

"T-this is for you." The girl squeaked, handing him and envelope. 

"Why thank you both." Harry said, smiling at the both of them; causing them to blush furiously before nodding and scurrying away--excitedly talking as they left. And it wasn't hard to tell why; Harry was a tall fellow but he had good looks--with his green-eyes (hidden behind rimmed-glasses) complimenting his butterscotch complexion and his award-winning smile, it wasn't hard to see why would get flustered so easily around him.

That, and he had the ability to go from nice guy to ankle-breaker in seconds.

"Aye Harry, what's that you've got?" Neville called over suddenly, he being the only person to see it.

"It's uh..." Harry opened up the envelope and read the letter, his mood changing all at once, "Just great." He muttered, rolling his eyes.

"What's it say?" Ron asked, everyone's attention suddenly going over to the captain.

"That we've got to practice with the Slytherins," He looked up, "A pre-week practice is called for." A series of disagreeing yells were heard, refusing to believe his words.

"You've got to be kidding." Fred called out, being over-dramatic as he and George, his twin, began to throw child-like tantrums (obviously, to lighten to tense mood.)

Harry joined in on the laughter, soon shaking his head with a sigh, "Nope. Even I wouldn't joke about this." He began to gather his bag and finished just as he heard the bus pull up. He walked over to the drink rack and brought it over to the door; quickly propping it open.

"Harry, please don't make us go." George pleaded in a child-like manner as he watched the younger teen go out the door, "And please give us back the drinks, man." This caused another series of laughter.

Harry popped his head back into the door frame, grinning as his hair fell over his face, "Sorry Georgie, Dumbledore's orders." He winked before disappearing again; letting out a laugh as he heard what sounded like zombies and stuff piling up inside before there was a line of Gryffindors behind him.

When the door had been carefully locked, and the bus was filled with the team members (who were munching about on snacks) they took off down the road--heading straight for the renowned and every kid's dream school: 

Hogwarts Academy for the Profoundly Gifted.