𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫.

𝟓.𝟏𝟓 𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲

Ron's euphoria at helping Gryffindor scrape the Quidditch Cup was such that he could not settle to anything next day. Y/n was ecstatic for a few hours but her enthusiasm was also wearing out now.

All Ron wanted to do was talk over the match and Harry and Hermione found it very difficult to find an opening in which to mention Grawp — not that either of them tried very hard; neither was keen to be the one to bring Ron back to reality in quite such a brutal fashion.

As it was another fine, warm day, they persuaded him to join them in studying under the beech tree on the edge of the lake, where they stood less chance of being overheard than in the common room.

Ron was not particularly keen on this idea at first; he was thoroughly enjoying being patted on the back by Gryffindors walking past his chair, not to mention the occasional outbursts of "Weasley Is Our King," but agreed after a while that some fresh air might do him good.

They spread their books out in the shade of the beech tree and sat down while Ron talked them through his first save of the match for what felt like the dozenth time.

"Well, I mean, I'd already let in that one of Davies's, so I wasn't feeling that confident, but I dunno, when Bradley came toward me, just out of nowhere, I thought — you can do this! And I had about a second to decide which way to fly, you know, because he looked like he was aiming for the right goal hoop — my right, obviously, his left — but I had a funny feeling that he was feinting, and so I took the chance and flew left — his right, I mean — and — well — you saw what happened," he concluded modestly, sweeping his hair back quite unnecessarily.

Y/n rolled her eyes and focused harder on her Herbology notes.

"And then, when Chambers came at me about five minutes later — what?" Ron said, stopping mid-sentence at the look on Harry's face.

"Why are you grinning?"

"I'm not," said Harry quickly, looking down at his Transfiguration notes and attempting to straighten his face. The truth was that Ron had just reminded Harry forcibly of another Gryffindor Quidditch player who had once sat rumpling his hair under this very tree. "I'm just glad we won, that's all."

Y/n regarded Harry curiously before turning back to her work.

"Yeah," said Ron slowly, savoring the words, "we won. Did you see the look on Chang's face when Y/n got the Snitch right out from under her nose?"

Y/n's head shot up. She glared at Ron. "Listen it wasn't anything –"

"I suppose she cried, did she?" said Harry bitterly.

"Well, yeah — more out of temper than anything, though . . ." Ron frowned slightly. "But you saw her chuck her broom away when she got back to the ground, didn't you?"

"Er —" said Harry. Y/n narrowed her eyes at him as if daring him to try lying to her. Harry averted his eyes from her e/c orbs.

"Well, actually . . . no," said Hermione with a heavy sigh, putting down her book.

"As a matter of fact, the only bit of the match Harry and I saw was Davies's first goal." Ron's carefully ruffled hair seemed to wilt with disappointment.

"You didn't watch?" Y/n asked turning to face Hermione.

"You didn't see me make any of those saves?" asked Ron.

"Well — no," said Hermione. "But Ron, we didn't want to leave — we had to!"

"Yeah?" said Ron, whose face was growing rather red. "How come?"