The Chaser : A Fred Weasley Fan Fic

Nineteen: Bludger

"You're not trying hard enough!" Oliver bellowed, as Katie missed another pass of the Quaffle.

From the moment he'd been back from Christmas break it was constant. We trained four times a week and Oliver threatened to make it every night if we didn't improve. It seemed we weren't the only ones who hadn't been practicing.

"Did he really expect us to keep practicing through Christmas?" Katie muttered under her breath.

"Yes! I did" Oliver shouted, making Katie jump, "I practiced every morning during the holidays"

Katie rolled her eyes and sped off on her broom to retrieve the Quaffle from the ground. I watched Oliver hover by the goals, rubbing his temples as though he had headache. I knew this was his last year to get the house quidditch cup, we all wanted it for him, but not when we were overworked like this.

"Maybe we could take a break?" I whispered, swishing towards Oliver. He scowled at me and shook his head.

I glanced round exhaustedly at the rest of the team, they were all clinging limply to their brooms, unable to show any real enthusiasm. Apart from Fred, who had now sat bolt upright and was watching me and Oliver.

"Come on, we've been out here for hours" I whispered again, trying to plead with his better nature.

"Fine" Oliver snapped, lowering to the ground at once, "Practice is over, be back here tomorrow"

"Tomorrow?" the twins groaned.

"Yes, tomorrow" Oliver said sternly, hustling around the pitch to tidy away the equipment.

We all hurried to the changing rooms before he changed his mind. I got dressed quickly and lingered in the corridor between the girls and boys rooms, listening out to hear if Fred was still getting ready.

Harry burst out through the door and gave me an odd look, his hair ruffled and standing up on end where he'd pulled his quidditch jumper on and off.

"It's just Fred in there," Harry said, giving me a strange knowing look, "I'm sure he'll be out in a minute"

I stammered out a "thank you" and tried to look as nonchalant as possible, but I was sure he was now quite suspicious. I hovered for a few more moments before a brilliant idea sparked.

Creaking the door to the changing room open, I peered inside. I couldn't see anybody, but there was a pile of clothes on one of the benches and the quiet patter of a distant shower. I snuck inside, making sure to shut the door silently behind me.

As I came closer, I could hear deep groans and Fred's voice in hushed desperate tones.

"Oh shit..." Fred grumbled, as I trod silently just outside the curtain to his cubicle. I clapped my hand over my mouth, trying to keep myself from giggling but another groan came from inside the shower.

It felt wrong to listen, but I lingered for a few more moments, the sound of him pleasuring himself making my own desire grow. It sounded wonderful, the rise and fall of his ragged breath and my mind painted pictures of what it may look like just behind the curtain. My curiosity got the better of me.

"Need some help in there?" I called, giving the curtain a rustle. Fred yelled loudly and his breathing increased further. He pulled away the curtain, glowering at me as he used the bottom half to cover himself.

"What the fuck, Tilly! What are you doing in here?" he yelled, his voice nearly drowned out by the thundering of the water. His face was bright red, whether with embarrassment or the heat of the shower I couldn't tell, but there was a whisper of a smirk begging to curl in the corners of his mouth.