Prompt: "I think I survived pretty good, actually. You should see everybody else."
The game was over and the rain had ceased. As the family of four walked back to the car, Harry turned to his son and looked at him while smiling. "You look awful, Albus," he teased.
Al was covered with a thick coat of mud from his head to his toes, some of it still wet. He sported several grass stains upon his uniform around the elbows and knees, and his lower lip was currently bleeding. The small red line contrasted with the color of his skin and the dark brown color of the mud that was covering it. The boy looked rather pleased with himself and content about his team being victorious after a tough soccer match, even though he walked with a limp.
"I think I survived pretty good, actually. You should see everyone else," he told his father, chuckling and pointing back toward the field.
"Harry, you told me that Muggle soccer wasn't nearly as bad as Quidditch!" Ginny said.
"It's not. No one's ever gone missing or died playing soccer like they have playing Quidditch."
"People have died playing Quidditch?!" Al swallowed. "That's it, I'm sticking to Muggle soccer!"
"Coward," James muttered from beside his father.
"James! Quiet," Ginny ordered.
Word Count: 204