𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄-𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒

the king of gryffindor (r.w)

When Ron's quidditch match leaves him the laughing stock of the school, y/n takes matters into her own hands in order to lift his spirits and show him just how amazing he really is.

Warnings: very brief mentions of aggression (when the twins attack Malfoy)

Word Count: 1.6 k

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The House Cup was the talk of the school during quidditch season. Teams trained day in and day out, no matter the weather, in hopes of claiming it as their own. Even when overworked and drenched in rain, everyone sported school spirit.

Despite the beaming sun, players were saved from sweaty uniforms as heavy winds swept the stands. The howling sound was easily drowned out beneath the uproar of students surrounding the pitch.  A gust travelled your way as you stood outside the Gryffindor locker room, causing your ruby-knit scarf to float with the breeze.

Cheers echoed from within its walls as Gryffindor spirit filled the air. Luna's lion head roared from the stands as students from all houses chose to side between the traditional Hogwarts rivals.

The wooden door suddenly burst open, encouraging you to step back as crimson robes swept the field. Loud banter was heard from each and every one of them, but Ron remained quiet, eyes tired as he worked to slip each finger into his leather mitts.

You winced as one fell from his grasp, causing him to fall behind as you rushed to help him.

"Oh, Ronniekins. If you can't even put on your gloves, how do you expect to stop the quaffle?" Fred teased, snickering as George soon piped in.

"Yeah, come on, Mr. Prefect. Your girlfriend can't win the game for you, you know?"

You glared at the twins as they toppled over in laughter, being sure to roll your eyes and place a comforting hand on Ron's shoulder. You had seen the way they had treated him the last few weeks, being sure to break down his self-esteem piece by piece. You knew that they were brothers and understood the dynamic between them, but it made no sense as to why they would want to discourage their own Keeper before such a long-awaited match.

You had been to every practice with him, cheering from the stands through thick and thin, and not once had you heard anyone utter one word of reassurance to the boy; leaving him an insecure mess by the time he returned back to you.

"Don't listen to them," you spoke, smiling weakly as you helped him close the buckle of his helmet. His eyes had not once met with yours — a sign that he felt foolish in front of you.

"I've seen you play, Ron," you whispered, taking his hands in yours as you forced him to face you. You were grateful for Angelina's strict captaincy as she yelled fiercely at the twins while ushering them towards the center of the pitch.

"You've been practicing for weeks, dreaming of this moment for years on end! You deserve this more than anyone in the world and I promise you will make your team proud," you praised, stepping closer as you brushed a strand of hair away from his crimson cheeks.

"Hey, Ron. You ready to go?" Angelina piped in, sending the nervous boy a sincere smile. His face went pale before nodding reluctantly, forcing a smile as you left a soft kiss on his cheek. And as he prepared to mount his broom, closing his eyes to pluck all the courage he could muster, your words echoed in his mind.

"I believe in you, Ron."

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Weasley cannot save a thing,