Good Girl || George Weasley

8

"This isn't working."

"You have to put some muscle into it."

"Like you're doing any better."

I watch with a small smile as Fred and George bicker over putting the stakes for our tent in the ground. Apparently, since we're technically on Muggle grounds, we have to do everything their way, so little tasks like putting up the tent have been taking far longer than they'd normally take.

Eventually, after some more struggling, we're able to get both tents up. All of the boys will be in one, while Hermione, Ginny, Penelope, and I will be in the other.

"Not bad," Fred says, once we're inside the tent. It's much more roomy than it appears on the outside, complete with a larger sleeping area with bunk beds as the back room, a small kitchen, a bathroom, and a front room with chairs and a table. I glance over at Harry and Hermione, who are looking around in awe, neither of them having seen a tent like this before.

"It's already almost time for lunch," Mr. Weasley announces as he ducks through the entrance flaps of the tent, "so Fred, George, and Katie, can you head to the forest and grab us some wood for a fire?"

"Sure, Mr. Weasley," I answer, leading the way out of the tent. The twins fall into place on either side of me as we walk the path between the campsites, which leads all the way to the edge of the forest. While there are still a handful of vacant campsites, most are occupied by groups, many of whom are setting up their tents or making lunch over fires. I wave to anyone I recognize, which includes Dad's coworkers at the Ministry or kids from school.

I wave excitedly when I see Cho Chang, who greets me with a big smile and a wave back. Cho is a year younger than the twins and I, and the Seeker for my Quidditch team. She's one of the few friends that I have in my own house.

"Look, there's Wood. Oi, Wood!" Fred shouts, cupping his hands around his mouth. Almost everyone in the vicinity turns, including the person that Fred is addressing: Oliver Wood, the former Gryffindor Keeper and Captain, who just graduated a few months ago. He's probably the biggest Quidditch fanatic that I know, so it's no surprise that he's here.

As we approach his campsite, he jogs over to meet us halfway.

"Hey, you three. Rooting for Ireland, right? Because if not, I don't think I can talk to you ever again," Oliver greets us, and while he says it with a smile, I doubt he's joking.

"Of course," George says.

"Good. Because Krum is good and all, but you can't rely on just your Seeker to win a match. After all, Ireland's got Ryan - Barry Ryan, I'm sure you know him, Clearwater - who's a brilliant Keeper, which is obviously important, and Lynch is just as good as Krum, so as long as Ryan can hold Bulgaria's Chasers off, they'll-"

"You know what, Wood?" Fred says, and I stifle a laugh, because I know that all three of us know that if we let Oliver keep talking, we'll be here until the match starts, "You're completely right."

Oliver grins proudly. "I know I am. I wasn't Gryffindor Captain for all those years for no reason, you know. And I wasn't signed on to Puddlemere United for no reason, either."

"Oh, really? Congratulations!" I say.

Fred and George offer congratulations to Oliver as well, and after another few minutes of him talking about his new team, we're finally able to escape.

"His new teammates don't know what's coming," George murmurs to me as we continue to make our way to the forest. I smile up at him, knowing that he's right. I don't think that anyone is ever quite ready for the intensity that is Oliver Wood's dedication to Quidditch.