Disclaimer: I would own Harry Potter, only if you think so. ;)
Well, I'm back, with a Oneshot. Enjoy.
The Gryffindor team were practicing for their final match against Ravenclaw; although, one would have to pinch themselves at the seemingly careless behavior in which the teammates held themselves. One would doubt that there was a game at all. It seemed like an ordinary game between friends.
The most startling display, however, was not the players at all; in fact, it was the captain. One would infer that the captain was the most austere, most stressed, but with the captain being none other than Harry Potter, well, it was bound to be unusual.
Harry Potter was currently high above all his teammates, perched on his famous Firebolt and — laughing? — indeed, he was. The captain, ladies and gentlemen, was doubled over, arms folded, with his forehead resting on them as he struggled to control himself.
Suddenly, another figure let out a rush of wind as it met the captain's height. The cause to the unusual behavior of its captain came to a halt, shielding him from the glare of the sun, and casting a blanket of shadow onto him.
"Coote!" A female's voice bellowed as it continued to float in front of him, "Chuck me that bat for a moment, will you? I reckon the captain needs another blow to the head!"
Harry's laughs renewed as he lifted his head up to meet the chestnut eyes of his fiery teammate: Ginny Weasley. Although, Harry was startled to see a bat held tightly in the red-haired witch's hand, positioned towards him.
"You're kidding?" Harry choked out, torn between amusement and self-defense. He put his hands out in front of him in a pathetic attempt to shield himself.
"No, I'm not kidding, Potter!" Ginny yelled in a McLaggen-like way; her flaming pony-tail spilling its wrath upon her shoulders, "We've got a match in a week! We haven't got time to act like first years; we've already done that! Now get back into position, Captain!"
With folded arms still resting on his broom, Harry grinned amusedly at her, and said, "Ironic, isn't it? Being captain and all?"
He watched as Ginny's mock-serious countenance fused into one of indignant outrage. Harry let out a cry and ducked as she swung the bat towards the direction of his head.
"Get back to your position, Potter." Ginny threatened, holding the bat like a wand.
Harry felt betrayed by Coote: why would he hand her that bat, anyway? He threw a mock-glare at the third year, yet the boy shrugged helplessly and threw him an innocent smile in return as he flew away. Harry thought that it was a very intelligent escape, and he reciprocated the actions of the boy, narrowly escaping the witch's fiery head.
"I'm still captain!" Harry yelled back at her as she resumed her position, as well; she gestured with the bat in return before handing it back to Coote; Harry chuckled, and attempted to concentrate on finding the Snitch.
'The snitch is a small yellow ball, not a red-haired beauty.' A voice mocked in his head; Harry muttered as he attempted to act ignorant towards it.
With only a few distractions, the captain of the team had finally managed to catch a glimpse of the "small yellow ball" buzzing beside the reason that Harry was not permitted to acknowledge the "red-haired beauty", the Keeper.
Harry was happy to see the confidence radiating from Ron; he supposed that having McLaggen on the team was not so bad, after all. Harry flew past his best mate and chased the Snitch; sensing his presence, the Snitch chose to speed towards the ground, drawing him towards it like a magnet.
Harry abruptly pulled out of the dive to see the Snitch teasing in front of him. He reached out a gloved hand to grasp it, but it still seemed too far. He glanced towards the ground, predicting how many injuries he would get, before confirming a decision.
And so — being the ever-gallant Gryffindor that he was — he lifted his weight off the broom to throw himself towards the Snitch. Harry rolled and rolled on the ground before stopping, lying flat on the ground with his eyes shut and his glasses askew.
Ron, who had been watching this entire scene play out in front of him, let out a shout, signaling all his other teammates' attention towards their captain. Panicked, however, to see their fallen teammate, they still pondered over the stupidity of their captain; after all, it was just practice, he didn't need to break his bones for it. The captain's team flew towards him.
"Harry?" Ron called out, nudging his captain with his foot, "Er — Harry?" he tried again, "Are you alright?"
Harry cracked open his eyes to find himself — once again — shielded from the sun's glare due to his teammates' heads.
"I've got it." Harry declared, lifting his hand up to show his team the Snitch that was clutched tightly in his hand. The team didn't bother hiding their exaggeration. They sighed; glad they were that he had caught it, yet they also worried about his survival as well. They returned to their positions, reassured that he was in one piece.
"You know," a voice teased above him as the owner leaned its flaming head towards him, smiling innocently, "When I said you needed a blow to the head, I didn't mean it literally."
Harry's eyes swiveled up to meet her teasing ones; she was upside down to him, yet he couldn't help but notice the way the sun glared in envy at her shining hair, shining brighter than it ever would.
"Is this pity I hear, Weasley?" Harry smiled teasingly, unable to tear his emerald eyes from her chestnut ones.
"Not at all," she responded, a smile sketching her freckled features, "I just wanted the captain to be able to attend the final match, that's all."
"Is that right?" Harry humored her, reluctantly tearing his gaze away from her to study the Snitch from behind his spectacles.
"Only if you think so." she stated, shifting to stand by his side, reaching a hand towards him in an attempt to help him up.
Harry eyed the outstretched hand suspiciously; could he trust her? It did give him an innocuous excuse to touch her, though; even Ron couldn't object to that.
"Careful," she said mockingly, noting the way his eyes narrowed, "I might bite." She grinned, revealing her gleaming teeth.
"Well, you are a Gryffindor," he said — at last, reaching his hand to grasp her gentle, yet slightly rough, hands, "And Gryffindors are lions."
He stood up; he was significantly taller than her, about a head tall. He muttered a quick thanks before he glanced around the field for his broom. He was startled to see it missing; his eyes immediately zoomed back to the fiery red-head, discovering that his instinct was right: he sighed.
"After all I've done to you," she said as he attempted to stifle his smile, "And you pay me such a lovely compliment. I suppose I'm in your debt now." She held out the broom that she had had hidden behind her back. He chuckled.
He placed the tail of the broom on the ground as he took it from her, folded his arms, and rested them on the top of the broom, leaning his chin on it. They both watched as the other teammates teased, laughed, and played with each other, and he wished that he could stay like this forever, just listening to the melody of her voice.
The team, however, were used to seeing those two together; in fact, they had already placed bets that the two would get together by the end of the year, yet neither Harry nor Ginny knew this. Ron, however, had noticed that they had been growing closer to each other, yet he hadn't participated, preferring to keep it hushed.
"Although," Ginny wasn't finished, "if I've proved myself the Gryffindor," Harry raised an eyebrow at her, "You, on the other hand, are doubtful."
She was up to something. "Just what are you implying?" A suspicious look crossed his face, yet she stood: hands clasped behind her back, eyeing him from the corner of her eyes, smiling roguishly.
"Well," she said, rocking on her heels, "I might be a better Gryffindor," Harry rolled his eyes, smiling, "or a better Seeker."
Harry froze as he heard that last statement. He looked at her, determining her honesty, yet her eyes seemed to gleam a slight challenge, and it dawned on him just what she was doing.
"Is that a challenge?" he questioned, smirking in a similar fashion that she was.
"Only if you think so." Ginny repeated, tiling her head towards him as the sun glowered murderously.
Harry snorted as he pushed himself up straight, adjusted his glasses, grabbed his broom, and turned towards her, eyes twinkling.
"If I win," he said with difficulty, hardly believing what he was saying, "then I'll resume my position; if you win," her chocolate eyes widened as she breathed out a startled laugh, "then you'll be the Seeker for the final match."
"Oh, you're so confident, Potter."
"Only if you think so."
She shoved his arm for his sarcastic comment; they were both laughing as they grabbed their brooms while Harry grasped the Snitch, and they both ascended high beside the rays of the sun.
"Ready?" he asked her as they sided beside each other; she nodded, bent low on her broom, and he took the moment to admire the determined expression gracing her features.
"On the count of three," he informed, "One," he bent low on his broom as well, "Two," holding the Snitch out in front of them, smirking, "Three!"
And he watched as she sped off, and he did too, but after a while, he stayed floating up, simply watching her. She flew really well; he watched admirably how her eyes corresponded with her hair; they both burned immensely, just like the sun.
He watched as she quickly got irritated and wondered why couldn't a simple miracle, or one more small dose of luck, bring them together. It amazed him that it was she who showed him — not directly, though — how thick he was; he would never have guessed that "Ron's little sister" could make him fall for her — hard.
He was startled out of his thoughts as he heard her elicit a small scream of frustration; as soon as she caught his eye, she curled her hand to a fist, shook it in front of her at him, and gestured towards the ground. Grinning mischievously, he dived towards the ground, landing safely.
He did his best to conceal his grin and drew an expression of confusion on his face as she stomped towards him, broom clutched tightly in her hand. Her eyebrows were knitted tightly together and her lips were pouted; how anyone could take her seriously was a mystery to him.
"Potter!" he winced at hearing her loud cry.
"What?" he asked, knotting his eyebrows, "Why'd you stop?"
She didn't buy it. "Because, apparently, you think I'm thick," she said sarcastically; he grinned, "Don't tell me, let me guess: you've already caught it."
He shrugged, "I wouldn't say that." holding out the Snitch that was fluttering softly on the palm of his hand.
He watched amusedly as she placed all the pieces of the puzzle together, her hair lifted slightly as each breeze of wind passed as thoughtful look dawned her face. And then, suddenly, it clicked, and she scowled.
"You didn't let it go, did you?" she asked, placing her hands on hips in a very Molly-like fashion.
"Hmm."
"Coward."
"Only if you think so."
She grinned; her eyes were gleaming intensely.
"Honestly this time?" she asked; he couldn't find it in himself to he deny it anymore. She would blind him if he did.
"Alright, then." he responded, his emerald eyes seemed to express his honesty because she smirked, as if she knew exactly what was going on in his head, and said no more.
They both flew up high, shining brighter than the sun ever would, because it was just one of the several sunlit days that they would remember; they would tell their children about it: how they laughed, teased, and joked.
Harry would tell them how he had won that day, teasingly saying that she had placed a curse on him, and therefore, he had ended up in detention for the rest of the year, and Ginny — with a blazing look in her eyes — would smile lovingly at him, and reply:
"Only if you think so."
A/N: I always did love their playful relationship. :3 Are they too OOC? But anyway, y'all know, y'all can give me my sunlit days if you throw in a review. :) Thanks for reading.
