"It is dangerous to be sincere unless you are also stupid."
- George Bernard Shaw (1856-1950)
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"You want it badly, don't you?" She asks as they walk in the moonlight, he smiles slightly and looks down on the chocolate-like mud.
"Of course I want it badly."
"Then go for it," she says, "go try out for Quidditch. You can do it Seamus, I--I believe in you."
"But does anyone else?"
"You only need one person," she says, "you only need one person to think you're the most fantastic person in all of the world and then...and then you're complete, Seamus."
"I'm nervous," he says.
"I'll lend you my brother's Firebolt," Parvati pipes up, "you know what they say about Firebolts…"
"...they're perfect."
"I don't...I don't need--"
"-you deserve it, Seamus. C'mon now, get with it and try out and just...go with it."
"What if I fall off?"
"You won't," she says shaking her head and picking up a yellow daisy. The wind bites them, but they do not notice.
"My Father didn't teach me," he says, "everyone else had Father's who taught them about Quidditch and life...and the stars and…"
"Listen," she says grasping his shoulders, "you're the best bloody kid out there and you're going to just…totally rule tomorrow, Seamus. And if it makes you feel better I shall give you a kiss for good luck."
So she does.
He reddens slightly and his eyes go towards the shimmering stars.
"Go for the glory lad," she mutters.
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