A/N: Please review and tell me if this is any good! It's written in "stream of consciousness," meaning you read the thoughts of the persona, and you see what they see. It's my first one ever ; so please don't be really mean. Also, it's not supposed to have proper grammar and whatnot, so it seems like one bit run-on sentence. It's a tad depressing I guess, the usual teenage angst. Pretty please (with sugar on top?) R&R!

Disclaimer: I own nothing, unfortunately. It's all J.K. Rowling's.

Cinnamon eyes are watching me as I fly through the air, the stands are a blur, but still those eyes, swimming in a sea of red and gold are visible. Grass green patches spin beneath - I speed and hit the Bludger off-course, and it stings, the shock goes up my arm and I see the other globe chasing after another swirl of scarlet and off I go. Soaring exhilaratingly over azure stands with silver linings, I chase, bat in hand, swing wildly, off it goes (Score another for me!). The Quaffle is taken and I watch (Come on now!), the Bludgers are no-where to be seen, another ten for Gryffindor! A wave of crimson cheers wildly and again the eyes are on me, and I can't move. Serious eyes, but not without a twinkle of humor, such beautiful eyes, I finally tear mine own away and I can fly again, but Bludgers are not the only things weighing on my mind. She seems so serious at first but really she's not, "Fred get that Bludger!" I turn, and see a Bludger near Oliver, soar to him and swing my bat. Thoughtful, she seems, not serious, I decide, fly high above the stands to see the Bludger. A hush goes over the crowd, a blue and red blur is falling toward the ground (Go Harry! You can do it! GOGOGO!!!) and splits, the scarlet triumphantly clutching the golden orb, the Snitch, Gryffindor has won! All eyes are upon the Boy who Lived I see, speeding toward the ground, I touch down on grass, crimson wave is back again and swarms those other masses on the ground in joy, my twin slaps me on the back "Fred, we did it again!" Lions say "Good for you!" and those cinnamon eyes are on me again, and I look back at them, I feel faint, a surge of love. A smile, then they flicker to the boy with black hair and congratulate him, hug him. My brother is with her, he grins wildly at Harry and gives the thumbs-up to George and myself and the rest of the team, they're all so happy. The cinnamon eyes flicker between a set of green and blue ones as they stand there talking excitedly about the game (The cinnamon eyes are not looking at me anymore). My stomach sinks, the joy wears off, the smile stays plastered on my face as the rest of the team heads to the locker room, and I follow monotonously joyful. George is looking at me, a tinge of sadness in his eyes as well, he knows about the cinnamon eyes, I think, and he realizes my own depression. Later he will ask what is wrong, but I can't tell him, no way in hell. A last glance back at those cinnamon eyes, they are looking at a boy with red hair and blue eyes, but not me. Shining with joy she inexpertly takes the hand of the boy and he has his own awkward grin on as he smiles back and together they walk to the castle, my heart contracts and I look at the grass, spear-like and jagged and I think, (He doesn't realize what he has) why not me?