In Another Universe

Chapter 12

It was a sunny afternoon on campus, one of those that seems to stretch forth into the horizon with golden sunlight, and Granger was where she would least expect to be: seated on the collapsible metal risers by the football pitch, Dean and Seamus on either side of her a level down, as she waited for Harry and Ginny to finish football practice so she could have a project-related conversation with them after. Today, the boys' team was scrimmaging the girls', and Harry, star midfield, was facing off against his star-striker girlfriend. In the sidelines, Dean was bent over a piece of grid paper, sketching out an outline for a columned porch, and Seamus was leaning back relaxedly, munching through a sandwich. And, Granger noted pleasedly, there seemed to be not a hint of awkwardness in the silence between them, just genuine comfort. She supposed she owed it to how easygoing Dean and Seamus were— but, still, it was much appreciated.

"I thought you played football, Dean, Seamus?" Granger asked, when curiosity merely deposited the question in her mind.

"Oh, I do," said Dean, furiously rubbing at his sketch with the eraser end of his pencil (which, Granger noticed, was getting smaller). "I'm just taking a term off to finalize my portfolio. I'll go to practice sometimes, just to be with the lads and all, but I can't commit to playing full-time just now. And Seamus doesn't know whether he wants to be back on the team this term."

"That seems wise," Granger remarked, and the comfortable silence once again spread between them, marked only by Seamus's rhythmic chewing.

Granger used the silence to allow her gaze to sweep the football pitch. She wasn't very much inclined to sports, so to be out here was —like many things she had encountered already during this project— a new experience. Ginny was easiest to locate on the pitch: she was a lightning bolt in a blur of red hair, zigzagging skillfully around the legs of the boys' defenders. Harry was equally easy to spot: head-to-head with Ginny, he guarded his side of the pitch zealously, his eyes fixated on the ball wherever on the pitch it rolled. Granger smiled softly looking at her friends, and even ventured into a small cheer when Ginny made way for the boys' goal—

And then he stopped it.

A redheaded goalie, shaking his wild hair out of his eyes, blocked Ginny's shot and kicked the ball back into play, blowing a raspberry at Ginny to rub in the missed shot.

"Weasley plays soccer?"

"Hm?" said Dean, looking up from his sketch and then continuing offhandedly when he caught a glance of Weasley. "Yeah, he plays goalie, he's really good."

"That is, when he's not nervous," Seamus chimed in. "He's on his best game right now because it's a friendly game. Once the pressure's on, it's anyone's game."

"But he is really good," Dean defended him. "In fact, he beat out McLaggen for the same position and he keeps beating him at tryouts every year."

"Betcha that doesn't make things any better," commented Seamus, and he and Dean snickered.

Granger had lost the thread of the conversation: "I'm sorry, made things any better? What do you mean it didn't make things any better?"

"Well, they hate each other, haven't you seen?" Seamus said, finishing his sandwich and crunching its tinfoil wrap into a small ball in the palm of his hand.

Granger recalled that day where she'd sought out Weasley in the lab: McLaggen had been an arse to him, sure, but that was because McLaggen was an arse to everyone, and he probably hadn't liked that Weasley had stepped in to rescue her from him.

"They hate each other?"

"Always have— well, ever since that party in second year—" Seamus suddenly cut himself off, and this time the silence between them hung with tension.