AN: I really do have a soft spot for Alicia/Katie. There isn't nearly enough of it on here.
It had been a particularly gruelling training session. They'd played Quidditch in the rain before, but their robes were soaked right through to their skin and they couldn't see where they were flying, let alone where the Quaffle was. Angelina had been merciless, even worse than Oliver Wood had been last year. The whole team was tired, hungry and freezing cold. Finally, they were allowed to return to the changing rooms.
"I take back every bad word I ever said about Oliver. He wouldn't have made us train in gale force winds." Alicia's fingers fumbled with her robes, trying to unfasten them. The cold had made her fingers stiff and uncooperative.
"That's a lot of words you'll have to take back." Katie laughed. "I remember you complaining about him constantly."
"Well, I'm sorry." Giving up on the robes, Alicia simply walked into the shower fully clothed and switched on the hot water, breathing a sigh of relief.
"That's not a bad idea, actually, Alicia." Katie followed suit. As the water warmed them, they managed to undo the robes. It didn't matter that they'd been under the shower, since they were already drenched through. The two girls helped each other with the awkward fastenings, cold skin quickly heating up as it was revealed. Not until all of their clothing was in a heap on the floor did they kiss, a sweet gesture full of unspoken promises. They didn't dare do anything else, not here, it was too public. Angelina knew to leave them alone, but that didn't mean everybody else would. Instewad, they ran their fingers through each other's hair, untangling the knots caused by the wind. The action soothed them both, calmed ruffled tempers and settled their minds.
"I don't think this was quite what Angelina had in mind when she said we needed to improve our teamwork."
"Don't know what she's on about, Katie, love. Our teamwork is impeccable." Alicia smiled, rinsing the conditioner from Katie's hair. "On and off the Quidditch pitch."
"She said that when I missed the Quaffle you threw to me. The time I was caught by that gust of wind, went hurtling towards the goal and couldn't see a thing."
"I remember. You went through the centre goalpost, it was brilliant." Alicia laughed at the memory.
"Did I really? Pity it wouldn't count as a goal in a real match."
"Oh, I don't know. It might if you were holding the Quaffle."
"Maybe I should try it against Slytherin on Saturday."
"I'd pay to see that." They stepped out of the shower, wrapping themselves in fluffy gold towels emblazoned with the Gryffindor crest. "If we hurry, we'll get to the Great Hall in time for dinner."
They dressed in record time, dropped their robes and towels into a basket to be cleaned, and pelted up to the Hall. They arrived just as George Weasley was recounting the story of how Katie flew through the goalpost.
"Shut up, George." She elbowed him in the side, goodnaturedly.
"I'm only telling them, Katie."
"I'm sure there are plenty of stories I could tell about your Quidditch mishaps, too."
The Gryffindor table burst into laughter as Katie launched into her favourite tale. The arduous practice sessions, and aching muscles that resulted, would all be worth it, they knew, if they beat Slytherin in three days time.
AN: Go on, you know you want to review. Click the button.