This is originally a PHC for my friend Emilie.
The only thing Emilie wanted right now was to win this quidditch match, but her body didn't work right. This happened every time the Slytherins played against Gryffindor, it were just because of the beater at the Gryffindor team, Fred Weasley. Ever since Emilie first saw Fred she'd been reacting weird to his presence, first she didn't know why, but after a while she understood. She was in love, but nothing could happen, she wouldn't allow it, and no one else would either.
Slytherin lost, Emilie had been so unfocused, and she was afraid anyone would be suspicious of why she only sucked during the matches against Gryffindor. She washed up quickly, and left before anyone could talk to her about the game. She usually ruled in quidditch, peopled talked about her as the dark haired girl, that ruled in quidditch and are a prankster at the Weasley twins level.
Emilie walked slowly towards the castle, she wanted to think, to get over this, whatever it was. She walked with her head down, and was lost in her own thoughts when she suddenly tripped. Why on earth did she trip, she wasn't exactly clumsy. She looked after something that could've made her trip. Well there was a leg in front of her, she looked up, her heart beating fast, she was scared. There he was, the reason for her concentration problems. Fred Weasley, the guy her heart belonged to.
"Well hi there, the prankster girl who supposedly is on me and my brother's level?" Fred just looked at her, his brown eyes not only looking at her, but staring right trough her, he saw her, he understood her. He didn't say a word, but she knew. The moment was magical, from the moment he placed his arm around her hips, pulled her up carefully, holding her like if she was made of glass.
His arm stayed light around her, his eyes rested in her blue ones, there breaths were like one, they were breathing, they lived, and they were one.