5
You stood in the middle of the quiddich pitch, holding your broom in one hand and your regret in the other. Harry was opposite you, the smug confidence on his face obvious as he stood, had on hip as he smiled.
“Now!” Fred called, standing next to his brother as he tossed the snitch between his hands. “The first one to catch the snitch is the winner!”
“No hitting, hexing, cursing, bewitching or deliberately knocking each other off your brooms!” George called.
“Other than that, do whatever you want.” Fred smirked, glancing between you and Harry as you both stepped over your brooms, hovering a few feet in the air as you prepared for the match. Fred paused, before suddenly throwing the snitch into the air, watching it pause for a second before zooming off. “PLAY!”
You and Harry both looked at each other, then snapped your attention to the snitch as you leaned forward, chasing after it as it headed towards the right of the pitch. You followed it up, and back around, and back up again as you kept the golden glint the centre of your attention, using it as a position marker as you did your best to keep up. You could see Harry out of the corner of your eye, leaning down next to you to gain speed. You copied him, levelling out the distance between the snitch and the two of you.
The snitch snapped left, and so did you, thankfully not falling off your broom as you gripped firmly onto the front of it.
You could hear the voices of your friends from the stands; Ron, Hermione, Fred and George, and a few other students littered about the stands as they indulged your competition.
“C’MON! KNOCK HIM OFF!”
“YOU’RE NOT THE SEEKER FOR NOTHING!”
“JUST REACH OUT!”
You heard their various encouragements as they were shot at you, taking your attention off your target for a second to glance down, seeing Georges eyes follow you, a proud smile painted on his face. He tracked your movements as you played, wringing his hands together in for of his lap.
“YOU CAN WIN! DO IT FOR ME!” He called up, his tone jokey and banter-ish but his face sincere.
You looked back up to the snitch, locking your vision back onto it as you followed it. You were gaining on it, rapidly, and you decided that now was the right time to make your play. You shot out a hand, reading just how unstable you were on the broom as you wobbled slightly, squeezing your thighs together around the wood to try and keep your balance. You fingertips brushed the cool gold, feeling the smooth surface as the wings buzzed around it. You were almost there. You leaned forward more, trying to gain on it, and you did, for a second, before your broom toppled forward, doing a front flip mid-air and you attention was suddenly focused on trying not to fall and die.
You heard your small crowd stop silent as they watched you grapple at the broom. Fortunately, you didn't let go, and you kept your fingers closed tightly around the pole as you dangled haphazardly from your perch. Harry noticed, and immediately turned back, hovering under you as you used the back of his broom as a step, climbing back onto your broomstick.
“Cheers.” You said to him as you watched his eyes flit around the pitch, searching for the snitch. “What you lookin’ for?” You sang.
“The snitch.” He replied, confusion riddling his brain as he looked over an empty pitch.
“Oh,” You said, holding out your closed hand. “You mean, this snitch?” You opened your finger as Harry looked at you, seeing the golden snitch held between your fingers as you hovered.
He sighed, a slightly defeated sigh coming from him as you both returned to the grass.
“And we have a winner!” George called, jogging over to you and grabbing your hand, holding it up as if you'd just beat Harry in a WWE world match.
“Congrats, kid.” Fred said patting you on the back.
You smiled back at him as the rest of the group filed onto the pitch, jogging over to you. You felt a hand rest on your shoulder, looking up to see George looking down at you, a proud smile on his face. He leaned down, whispering slightly so that only you could hear.
“Knew you could do it.”
You smiled a bit, trying not to show how much his confidence in you meant, but not wanting to seem like a cold bitch.
“I thought you said you'd never played before?” Ron said, baffled.
“By the looks of whatever that was, she hasn’t.” Hermione chuckled.
“Hey!” You defended your self. “I won, didn't I?”
“Yes,” Hermione continued. “But you also almost died.”
“Almost.”
Hermione laughed, giving up. “Sure, sure.”
“Well,” George declared form behind you. “Looks like Harrys got a lot of homework to do!”
Harry grunted, sulking as he took off all the various gear, taking yours and doing the gracious duty of taking it back to wherever it was stored. The rest of the group went with him, taking back the equipment on their way back to the school. You were about to follow them when the hand on your shoulder held you back as Fred called back.
“You guys coming?”
“In a sec!” Was Georges response.
He waved Fred and the rest on as they left, comforting a sulky Harry as he trudged his way slowly away from the pitch.
“Well, congrats on your victory.” George said, letting your shoulder go and stepping in front of you.
“Thanks.” You said, confused as to why you weren't going with the others.
You were about to ask who he spoke again.
“So, how are you gonna celebrate this tremendous victory?” His voice rang with the familiar tinge of mischief, and you wondered what he was thinking.
“I dunno, why?” You said, suspiciously.
“Well I have an idea?”
“Tell me.”
George paused, frowning slightly. “Hmm, no.”
“No?”
“No.” He repeated, before bounding away from you. “C’mon!” He called back, beckoning you to follow him.
You obeyed, walking beside him as he went wherever he was going. You assumed that you were going back to school, to go throw a book at a first year for fun or something, but he turned round when he got to the path, going in the opposite direction of where he was supposed to be going.
“George?” You said, concerned with what was happening.
“Yuh?”
“Where are we going?”
“Somewhere.” Was his unhelpfully vague answer.
“Where, somewhere?”
“Somewhere somewhere.”
You decided that, if you were going to get answers like this, you'd just stay quiet, and follow your companion in blind trust as you wandered off god knows where.
It was after about five minutes of walking that you realised where you were headed.
“Are we going to Hogsmeade?”
George clapped his hands together, smiling down at you. “Bingo!”
“Its the middle of the day, we’re meant to be back in class…” You thought back to the time when you left, and estimated how long you'd been gone. “Five minutes ago.”
“Aw, C’mon,” George said. “It’s a special occasion.”
A small smile crept onto your face and you suddenly decided that whatever lesson you were meant to be in wasn’t so important.