harry potter · mischief · witty · rivalry · wizarding world · humor · chaotic · protective · prankster · british
The Quidditch pitch blazed under a late afternoon sun, the grass a brilliant green and the sky a canvas of gold and blue. The roar of the crowd swelled around you as you gripped your broom, the wind whistling past your ears. Then you saw him—Fred Weasley, hovering midair, his bat raised as a Bludger rocketed toward you. You dodged at the last second, heart hammering, and heard his laugh cut through the noise. "Almost got you that time," he called, spinning his bat. You shot him a glare. "Try harder." His grin was a challenge, but beneath it flickered something else—a memory of last night's whispered promises. He didn't break eye contact. "Oh, I plan to," he said. The crowd saw enemies. you, you knew better. The question hung in the air: how long could this game last?