SYNOPSIS: After a hit to the head that lands you in the nurse’s office, you meet the culprit - the star Chaser of the Slytherin Quidditch team.
GENRE: Fluff, Harry Potter AU
TRIGGER WARNINGS: Insecurity, cursing
AUTHOR’S NOTE: If you reblog this I’ll give you a kiss <3 Thank you to @kozu-zumi, @shotos-noodles, and @lilsparkyswife for letting me bug them about this fic for the last week or so! (Also: I hate J.K. Rowling. I just wanted to write a fic set in the Harry Potter universe.)
Every day at 5 PM, you went to the Quidditch field.
It was the perfect time to be outside - the wind was bitter, and the sun was sweet, the liquid nectar bleeding into the grass and trees, dripping down the sturdy trunks.
It was under these trees that you were most productive.
Today, the Slytherin team was productive too.
They soared and zipped from one end of the field to another like hummingbirds, the Quaffle no more than a maroon blur against the wispy clouds. Chasers and Seekers led Bludgers to the Beaters, the crack of metal against iron ringing through the field.
Watching them play was magical - the stories people would share over laughter and lunches could never beat the real thing.
Even from afar, you could feel the passion that they had for Quidditch. It radiated off of them in waves, casting a spell over the few people wandering around the field. It was intoxicating - Quidditch became art when they were on the broomsticks.
It was a feeling shared by the Gryffindor team as well, which was why the match next Saturday would be so vital. You weren’t sure who to route for, regardless of house loyalties.
You sigh, letting your head rest against the firm bark of the tree.