"I really don't get it thought, " Seamus said in his strong Irish drawl, "I get football, you can ram people and knock 'em over...but in volleyball it's boring!"
"You don't have a clue what you're talking about!" Bre retorted vehemently. "Volleyball is my favorite sport and it's terribly fun! It's better than Quidditch! The floor is your goal posts, and the net is your Beaters and Bludgers. The people on the court are your Chasers, and there's no need for those silly brooms! You even have a referee like Madam Hooch, calling the shots! You can act like you know all about it, but you haven't got a clue about the game, Mr. Finnigan!" she ranted, and stormed off.
The last "Mr. Finnigan" part may have been a bit much, Bre worried to herself. She didn't want to scare Seamus off, she loved him and his brilliant accent far too much for that. Bre just detested anyone that acted like they could answer every single question and statement in the world. Especially when, like Seamus, they bashed on her sport.
Volleyball was her sport, too. Bre owned the court with lightning serves and killer spikes that left the girls on the other team looking disjointed and childish. Bre was still trying to get a Hogwarts volleyball team going, but no one else knew how, especially not other members of the Slytherin house. Bre was the only person in Slytherin that even knew what volleyball was There were a few Hufflepuffs that were aware of its existence, but it was mostly Gryffindors that had seen it played or knew the rules.
That's how she had met Seamus. She had thought that he was like most other boys from Gryffindor, cocky and immature. She thought he might be different...but...he was worse. Seamus' knowledge of volleyball presented a challenge for Bre, which she welcomed with open arms. She was determined to see him play and love volleyball if she could accomplish nothing else that year. She also secretly hoped that he would do what Muggle boys often did in books and moves. That is, fall in love with his coach.
Every day she started off talking to him normally, asking about his day so far and about his classes and friends. Then she would lure him into a sports conversation and turn it from football to volleyball, but it always ended this way. Her storming off in frustration.
Another week passed and excitement for the Yule Ball began to escalate. Every day the routine was the same with Seamus. Bre was getting tired of him acting like he knew everything there was to know about everything she said. After two months of trying this, Bre was extremely discouraged and snapped while in the library with Seamus. He had just contradicted every point she had made, and they weren't even talking about volleyball yet. The library was completely empty except for them because everyone was at dinner. Bre snapped her book closed and shoved her chair back roughly.
She turned to face Seamus, saying "Here you sit, day after day, acting like you're always right and don't give a damn about anything I say because you think I'm wrong anyway. Well, Seamus, you're the one that's wrong this time, and I'm DONE! All I've ever done was care for you and try to challenge myself to get you to care for ME! NO MORE!" She turned around and began to march through the shelves towards the door when Seamus took a running start and tackled her to the floor.
"Haven't you ever heard that boys tease you when they like you? You said contact sports are stupid?' he asked from on top of her, "Well, without them I couldn't have done that, which would have meant that I couldn't do THIS!"
Without another word he pressed his body lower onto Bre's and kissed her slowly.
"Mission...accomplished..." Bre murmured softly in between kisses.
"No, not quite yet," Seamus muttered back, "You haven't said yes yet."
"Yes to what?" Bre inquired, sitting up.
"Oh, did I forget to ask you? Bre," he said, straightening up, "will you go to the Yule Ball with me?"
"Yes!" Bre squealed, toppling Seamus backwards with her enthusiasm and pressing her advantage by smattering him with her own, killer kisses.