hey girl! how about number 20 for the fluffy prompts!!
#20 = “You look incredible in that”
*disclaimer – my sorting will forever be more simplistic and less creative than that of the Sorting Hat. disagreement is okay.
“I think I’m gonna be sick,” Fitz croaked, running both hands up the sides of his head and through his hair only to flatten it again immediately afterwards.
“Everyone feels nervous before their first game,” Daisy assured him.
“Yeah but everyone else gets more than one game, case they monumentally screw it up the first time.”
With a sympathetic and entirely unreassuring wince, she opened the door just a smidge, letting in a sliver of light and the boom of Sam Koenig’s magically amplified voice.
“…since Ravenclaw currently leads the lot, each point is vital. Of course, some insiders say this match can hardly be considered part of the run-up as Gryffindor has had to call up its third-string – I repeat third-string, Billy and I didn’t even know that was a thing – Keeper, with both Campbell and his understudy down for the count after an experiment gone wrong in Charms class. Never assume you know better than Flitwick, kids, never. Anywho, this leaves Gryffindor with untested fourth-year Leopold Fitz – whether he will manage to block a single Quaffle is anyone’s guess…”
“Nope, definitely gonna be sick,” Fitz amended.
“Fox in the hen house, fox in the hen house!” Elena shouted from the other side of the changing room, but she grinned and tugged good-naturedly on Jemma’s cloak as the Ravenclaw Seeker passed her.
“You shouldn’t be in here,” Fitz said automatically, glancing around as if to make sure their team’s master plan (there was none, or none which they’d deigned to share with the third-string Keeper) was well-hidden. “You’re the enemy.”
“As if Gryffindor stands any chance of coming within striking distance of our sizable lead,” Jemma chuckled, smirking up at Fitz. She had his number – 15, an indication of how low he fell on the roster – traced on her left cheek in red paint. “Besides, I only wanted to wish you luck. You look incredible in that, by the way,” she added, indicating with a slowly roll of her eyes down his body that she meant the crimson robes. “It suits you.”
“They’re a bit big, don’t think anyone had time to take them in,” he muttered. She might be in a different house but he was neither blind to his friend’s brilliance and beauty nor immune to her increasingly obvious hints, and she was currently standing very close to him, smelling of vanilla and the pine branches they burnt in the corridors this time of ear. “If it goes terribly, I can just throttle myself in the extra fabric.”
“Don’t worry, I told Trip to take it easy on you,” Jemma said brightly.
“Did you really?” Fitz was torn between relief – Antoine Triplett was Hufflepuff’s top Chaser and most eligible bachelor – and a pang of embarrassment.
“Of course not. But you don’t need that. You’ll be brilliant.” She patted his chest with a gloved hand and stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “See you later.”
He was still staring at the swinging door, mouth slightly agape, when Daisy came up beside him and nudged him with the end of her broom. “We’re lucky we’re not playing Ravenclaw this week.”
“Hmm? Oh. But the Hufflepuff Chasers are better—”
“I don’t care about their Chasers. If Jemma were out there, you’d be too busy watching her Seek to even stay on your broom.”
“I wouldn’t – that’s not—” he huffed furiously, but Daisy just chuckled and led the team out towards the roar of the crowd.
And, well, he couldn’t really deny that the thought of how Jemma might react to a display of previously unmanifested athletic prowess served as significant motivation.