Summary: Seamus and Dean spend the weekend afternoon playing football and unintentionally showing off to impress each other.
Rated: K
Genre: General
Competition/Challenge Block:
Written For: The Houses Competition (Year 7); Monthly Challenges for All (Year 4)
House/Class: Slytherin/Herbology (Stand-In)
Task (Prompt): Drabble (Seamus Finnigan)
MC4A: Star; Link; Sp Bingo (4C); Tr Bingo (4D); Ship Bingo (5C); Hunt (Outside); IC (In a Flash; Bucket Listing; Two Cakes; Eating Cake; Rian-Russo Inversion; Ethic & Present; Setting Sail; Lunar Era; Gryffindor MCx2; Old Shoes)
Word Count: 651
Beta(s): Hope, CupCakeyyy, Butterflies765
Author's Note: In this story I am using the British term "football" to describe "soccer".
Football Lesson
It was a beautiful late spring Saturday afternoon, and not wanting to be cooped up inside or wasting it on studying end of year exams as any responsible third year student should be doing, Seamus took up his best friend's—Dean Thomas—offer. They met out on the training field where they usually practiced flying Instead of brooms, however, Dean brought along a football for the two to play with. Seamus knew what the sport was but never had had the opportunity to learn how to play it.
"I still can't get over the fact that you've never played!" Dean said, disbelief lacing his words.
"I watched enough of it on the telly. I'm sure I picked up a trick or two," Seamus responded, smirking at his friend.
Dean bounded out onto the grassy field. There wasn't even a whisper of wind out, which made the playing conditions pristine. Seamus trailed behind a bit, going over all those games he'd watched with his dad over the years to see if he could impress Dean with anything from them.
"We will see about that." Dean turned to face Seamus then, an answering grin on his face.
Seamus stopped in his tracks, knowing that Dean was about to engage with the football he currently held in his hands. They both spent a minute stretching their legs and arms to loosen up beforehand.
"White lines are the goals," Dean said, pointing to the white-painted lines that were used to line up behind for broom take off practice.
"Alright."
Dean placed the ball as evenly as possible between the white lines and backed up a few paces from it. Seamus did the same, crouching into a starting position.
"And… start!" Dean announced.
Seamus ran for the ball the second Dean said the words, managing to kick it between Dean's legs and dodge his friend before chasing after it. What he lacked in experience he made up for in watching and learning, logging the otherwise strange information in his mind for a day like this.
Dean wasn't going to allow Seamus to best him, however, and the dark skinned boy skirted past him and nicked the ball from his line so quickly that Seamus had to do a double take to register what had happened.
"Gotta be quick," Dean taunted as he sped by.
Seamus chuckled and did a quick turn to chase after him. Unfortunately, Dean scored a goal before he'd caught up. He slowed his pace to catch his breath while Dean brought the ball back to them.
"Your tactics are there, you just need to learn some footwork," Dean said, breathless. "Like this."
Seamus watched Dean's move so expertly around the ball, tapping it with the sides of his feet, and showing ways to feint or block. "You've got to move with the ball, but you also need to know how to control it, see?"
Dean continued his demonstration. Seamus watched his feet carefully, seeing how he handled the ball and maneuvered it the way he wanted. He was in awe of the skill his friend displayed.
"Got to keep the ball close to you, don't let it get away until you are ready to pass or make a goal. This gives you maximum protection of the ball."
"You're amazing," Seamus blurted, feeling his pale cheeks flush. He knew it wasn't from the spring heat.
Dean smirked at this, doing a few ball bounces off the top of his foot before catching it with his hands. "Thanks. I had some peewee lessons, but I know you can pick this up easily. Here, you try."
Seamus listened as Dean explained what part of the feet to use and he practiced kicking the ball around, occasionally losing it, allowing Dean to recover it, who gently passed it back for him to continue. Dean might think otherwise, but today was one of the best days of Seamus' life.
