"Buried, almost tangible secrets filled the space between them, and so, without a second to think, she closed it."
The scars of war opened more wounds than Harry Potter thought possible. As he returns to Hogwarts for his eighth and final year, he le...
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The weather was perfectly clear, for once, but the blueness of the sky was littered by three flying dots, so minuscule that Harry had to squint to identify them. The wind was harsh, nipping at his ears and threatening to pull his circled glasses, and he had to hold onto them to keep them glued onto his face.
Harry bounded nearer, holding his trusted Firebolt close to his chest so it would not fly away from him.
The dot slowly took the form of two boys and two girls. Two heads of flaming red hair came into his vision, followed by a zooming, familiar blonde curls and the long, pin-straight hair of Meryn Frizzwall spinning around them.
The two Weasleys: Ron and Ginny, were practicing as Annabelle and Meryn flew energetically around them. Annabelle threw an occasional Bludger into the air, taking off in one lap around the pitch before descending upon the black ball.
The Bludger almost took out Ron. He squawked and clung to his broom as if for dear life. Annabelle got there just in time, smacking the Bludger with her bat and apologising profusely to Ron, shooting him her signature smile.
Ron huffed, giving her a slightly annoyed but humorous look before returning quickly to his place at the goalposts. Harry could've sworn he saw Annabelle mutter some particularly unsavoury things about Ron to Ginny, laughing loudly.
Harry mounted his own broom, smiling at the familiar free feeling as he took off into that impossibly clear sky. There was no Snitch in the sky for him to catch, but he pressed deeper into his broom and relished the way it obeyed perfectly to his command. His hands pushed against the broom, grinning as it turned ever so slightly to the right towards the group of players.
Annabelle swooped down to fly beside him. Her hair swept into his face, blinding him. He jerked his head back as he blinked rapidly. Even from this high in the sky with the wind coursing in his ears, her vanilla scent hit him even harder than the force of the cold air on his face.
"Heads up, Harry!" Annabelle's accent was thick as she shouted an American phrase at a confused Harry. He finally understood when the familiar sound of a Bludger whizzed closer to his ear.
Harry's broom plunged downwards as the Bludger zoomed directly above his head, right where he had just been flying, distracted by the vanilla.
Annabelle hit the Bludger directly into the goalposts, where Ron was guarding against Ginny. He nearly fell off his broom, swearing loudly and looking around for the source of the Bludger. Harry caught Annabelle glancing away to hide a giggle, and wondered if it had been on purpose.
Meryn had the Quaffle tucked into her tan arms, barreling down the pitch towards Ron, who regained his composure and tried to prepare with a set jaw.
