Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
(A.N Written for CrzyAngelchic, I hope you like it.)
Quidditch
By Silver Sailor Ganymede
Angelina wants to fly. She knew as soon as she first rode a broom that that was what she wanted to do, and she still knows it now as she watches the Quidditch game that is taking place in the air above her. Gryffindor versus Slytherin, gold versus silver, the final match of the year. She prays that her team will win, but of course they won't: Slytherins don't play fair after all.
Angelina watches as they dart across the sky, blurs of scarlet and green against the blue. The seekers dart towards the ground and Angelina knows that they are not feinting; this is for real, they've caught sight of the snitch. Charlie Weasley catches the snitch… just as Slytherin score a final goal. They've lost.
Angelina can see the disappointment on Charlie's face: the Quidditch captain was the best seeker Gryffindor had ever had but he had still never won a match against the Slytherins. Maybe next year, Angelina thinks, there's always next year, his final year. Perhaps she could get onto the team next year: the Chasers are leaving this year, she knows that much. Maybe she could help them win, maybe they will finally win… There is always next year, isn't there?
Angelina wants to fly, but there is one thing she wants more than that. Angelina wants Charlie… and there is always next year, right?