The sun was going down and Hermione was complaining of blisters by the time the game ended. Harry felt more relaxed than he had in quite some time, even if he was sore and most likely would have several bruises in the morning. He drifted down to the orchard floor lazily, listening to Ron and Hermione's good-natured bickering about Quidditch and Ginny's occasional input. She was lying on her broom, legs swinging idly to and fro, and sometimes her shoulders would shift and her shirt would ride up just a little and—
And Harry came into contact with the ground a little more suddenly than he intended, stumbled a little, and made a swift recovery, hoping his face wasn't too red and determinedly not looking at Ginny until he was certain. He limped back to the Burrow, ignoring questions about his limp and occasionally looking over his shoulder at Ginny to make a joke, because she did this cute thing with her mouth whenever she laughed—
And he walked into the side of the broom shed, to much concern and laughter. This was a little harder to shrug off, but Harry managed, putting his broom in with the others and shoving his hands in his pockets, letting Ron and Hermione walk a little ahead while he and Ginny walked a little behind and he got a good whiff of her perfume mixed with sweat as she regathered her hair in a ponytail, and Harry looked over to tell her something and forgot because has her neck always looked like that? A hot flush crawled up his spine and he quickly looked away—
And he tripped on a stray boot in the yard. On the ground, now being asked if he was quite certain he was alright, Harry wrestled with the growing feeling of worth it taking root in his chest and picked himself up.
A/N: And the catchup on Quilly's February OTP Extravaganza continues! This is for mugglesinspace! I like the stories where Harry is a little dweeby goofus so I wrote accordingly, since my Harry Potter fic days are largely behind me and I did have a lot of trouble with this prompt, actually. :/ Anyway. Enjoy!