After getting word to the team of their reinstatement, the Hufflepuff Quidditch team were back on practice schedule for the upcoming season. It was late Wednesday afternoon and Marigold had just finished a double Herbology lesson with Elin and Winslow. Despite usually enjoying it, Marigold found Herbology that day painful. Sprout gave them a quiz that she didn't know a single answer to, and the Sneezewort plant she'd been tending had spit purple goo all down the front of her robes.
Her, Elin and Winslow walked back up to the castle together, Marigold rubbing her eyes in exhaustion. She wanted nothing more than to head straight to her dorm room and take a long nap before supper, but Quidditch practice was starting in less than an hour.
"Are you coming to grab something to eat with us before practice, Goldie?" Winslow asked.
Marigold rubbed her eye, sighing, "No, I can't ... my practice robes are all the way in the room and I have to fetch some quaffles from the Quidditch office."
"You know what I told you, Goldie," Elin shook her head, "Not eating regularly enough can slow down your metabolism and even increase your risk of developing diabetes."
Marigold chuckled, "I'm sure I'll be okay this once, El."
When they reached the castle, Marigold parted with her friends and headed in the direction of the Hufflepuff common room. Shutting the door behind her, she sighed. Marigold pulled off her student robes, taking a moment to examine the large purple stain on the front.
Sprout had suggested a brand of detergent she could buy in Hogsmeade that would clear it up. Marigold sighed and tossed the garment aside, she would have to figure that out later. Her Quidditch uniform had been laid out neatly on the bed from that morning and Marigold pulled it on, suppressing another yawn. Spider watched her from his spot at the end of the bed, eyes flickering as they followed her movements.
Marigold pulled the large trunk out from underneath her bed and threw it open in search of a clean pair of socks. In the midst of her foraging, the sharp corner of a black picture frame caught the skin on the top of Marigold's hand and she pulled it back, seething. A dribble of blood ran down her palm, she examined it for only a moment before reaching back into the trunk with her other hand and pulling the picture out from underneath the mess of clothing.
In the frame was the photo of Marigold and her friends at the Yule Ball.
They were standing outside by the fountains, she remembered how Angelina insisted they took the photo before the night was over. The faces in the frame were laughing up at her, Diego had his arm around Elin who was wearing a long lilac dress that shimmered even in the darkness. Marigold and Angelina were sitting on the bench, arms looped together, Marigold's head on Angelina's shoulder and their heels discarded beside them. Winslow was hugging Bernie. In the middle of the photo, between Marigold and Diego, was Cedric. His picture was moving between adjusting the collar of his dress robes and grinning widely.
Marigold's eyes fixed on him. She'd forgotten how he shuffled when he stood for a photo - despite being very attractive, Cedric was never a fan of having his picture taken. The Cedric in the picture looked up at Marigold and waved. Her chest tightened. Shaking her head, Marigold fought to bury the feelings - something she was becoming good at.
Marigold gave the photo one more longing glance before placing it face down on her bedside table, pulling on her boots and grabbing her broomstick.
She had one foot out the door when a loud tapping made her turn back into the dorm room. Outside the window beside Marigold's bed, a sable black owl was perched and he was using his beak to rap noisily against the glass. She neared the window and pulled it open, Marigold could recognize that owl anywhere.
"Thanks, Ollie." She pulled the cream white envelope from his beak and the bird squawked loud enough to frighten Spider off his spot on the bed and send the cat bounding through the door into the common room. The owl then took off, and Marigold watched him for a few moments as his powerful wings carried him through the air until he became nothing more than a speck in the skyline.
She looked down at the letter, it was the third of it's kind that had arrived since school had started. Marigold's eyes glazed over the handwriting on the front, "Our dearest Marigold".
With a tight chest, she pulled open the bottom drawer of her side table and tossed it inside with the others, all unopened and all addressed "Our dearest Marigold," before slamming it shut.
When she reached the Quidditch pitch, Marigold was glad to find the team already in the air warming up. There was no better way to avoid her feelings than by having a good, hard training session. She called them down, each player landing with a small bump and climbing off their brooms.
"Right, today we're going to be doing some passing drills." Marigold tossed each of them a Quaffle from the bag she picked up at Madam Hooch's office.
She avoided Zach's eyes as she gave him his Quaffle.
"All members of a Quidditch team should be able to pass and catch a Quaffle properly, not just the Chasers. You never know when you might need the skill in a game--"
Marigold frowned, the team's attention was focused on something just past her shoulder.
She waved her hand in the air slightly, trying gain their attention, "Hey, guys ... can we focus here?"
"Goldie ..." Maxine spoke up, her finger pointed at something behind Marigold.
She spun on her heel, "What is it--"
Standing in the entrance way of the pitch was the tall, broad-shouldered silhouette of one George Weasley. He sent her a large grin and a wave when he realized he'd been noticed. Her stomach gave an involuntary front-flip at the sight of him.
Marigold cringed, she forgot that George had said he wanted to watch the practice. That was two days ago and she assumed it had slipped his mind, just as it did hers.
She turned back to the team, "Uhm, I'm just going to ... let me sort this out quickly." Marigold looked at her Chasers, "Zach, Troy, I need you guys to get the team into the L-formation and practice those passing drills we did last year before that Ravenclaw game, you know the one. I'll be right up."
Troy nodded but Zach spoke up, "What does he want?"
Marigold gave him a stern look, "I said start the drill." Within a moment, the team was back on their broomsticks and flying into the air. She dropped her broom on the grass beside her and jogged to where George was standing alone.
George was grinning (when wasn't he, she thought) and Marigold looked at him incredulously.
"If I didn't know any better I would say you look surprised to see me." He was holding a brown packet in his hand, occasionally dipping his hand in to stuff popcorn into his mouth.
"Well," Marigold replied, tucking a stray piece of loose hair behind her ear, "Not surprised, just ... nonplussed."
George chuckled, offering her some popcorn. Marigold eyed it for a moment before taking a handful, "George," She said, "As much as I love having you here, I'm worried you're going to be bored. We're just doing passing drills. I'm sure you have more important things to do."
"I'm staying, Knight. How else am I supposed to study your team's weaknesses and strengths and report back to Ang?"
Marigold rolled her eyes, choosing to ignore his jab at her, "Where's your other half?"
"Fred's off with Lee, they're studying for potions on Friday."
Marigold groaned, another thing she had to worry about.
"Come on," George whined, "I'll stay out of your hair. Just let me watch."
She considered him a moment.
"Fine," she caved, "If you promise you're not here to steal Hufflepuff secrets, you can go sit in the stands but sit somewhere out of the way - if the team sees you watching they're going to give me an earful about it. I can't be seen going soft on some Gryffindor."
He grinned widely. "Of course not."
Before Marigold could register what was happening, George had dropped a light peck on her forehead and was bounding off towards the stairs up to the stands. She felt the blood rushing to her face and for a moment she couldn't move her feet.
Marigold swallowed hard and shook her head, she was sure he was just being friendly. That thought didn't, however, stop the loud thumping of her heart from ringing in her ears.
She jogged back to where she'd left her broom and climbed on, determined to put George out of her mind. Over the next hour, they did throwing drills, catching drills and then separated into their positions for individual work. Marigold flew up and down, shouting orders and offerings tips - amongst her duties, she searched the stands for any sign of George and for a while she couldn't find him. It was only when they were almost finished did Marigold spot him in the far corner of the bleachers, almost completely invisible from the pitch. He was sitting back in the seat, arms casually folded over his chest as he watched Troy try to get the Quaffle past Herbert into the goal.
When the hour had elapsed, Marigold called her team down from cool-off to land exhausted on the pitch.
"Well done, guys." She commended, wiping her forehead with her wrist, "We're really starting to work as a unit. Practice is next Monday, four to six."
The team dispersed towards the changing rooms and Marigold noticed George waiting by the entrance, looking expectantly in her direction.
"Are you guys dating?" Maxine's voice made Marigold jump.
She clutched her heart and took a deep breath, looking back at the fifth year, "Damn, Max! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?"
Maxine held her gaze on George, ignoring Marigold's question, "Why else would he come wait for your practice to end?"
Marigold blushed, "We're not dating, Maxine, we're just friends."
She watched George, his eyes were transfixed on a spot in the grass, hands resting leisurely in his pockets while he waited.
When Marigold looked back, Maxine was already halfway to the change rooms. She picked up her broomstick and walked briskly towards George. He smiled when he noticed her nearing him.
"So, what'd you think?" She asked as they stepped into a walk together.
George shrugged, "It was ... average."
"Hey!" She laughed, "You're not allowed to say that after I broke my moral code to let you watch."
"Alright, alright," He wavered, "It was fine, but you're definitely the best up there."
Marigold grinned, "That's more like it."
The grounds were scattered with students studying under trees, walking up to the castle or heading to the greenhouses. Late afternoon was beginning to bloom over Hogwarts, Marigold couldn't help but notice how the sun shone off George's red hair as his voice washed over her in the warmth of the day.
He really is quite cute, she admitted to herself.
"You know the last time someone stared at me like that, Knight, I got laid." George was grinning like a dog with a bone.
Marigold rolled her eyes, trying to hide her embarrassment.
"Don't flatter yourself, Weasley. I was just looking at how big your nose is."
He sniffed the air around them dramatically, "This big nose smells bullshit."
The corridor came into sight, "Yeah, yeah, whatever." Marigold was trying very hard to stop George from noticing her flushed face.
He tossed an arm over her shoulder, "It's okay to stare at me. I'm pretty."
Her face felt impossibly hot and she kept quiet, although she couldn't help but agree with him. As if sent from above, she spotted the image of Angelina crossing the corridor in the distance, "Angelina!" she shouted.
Angelina stopped, spotting the two from where she was walking and jogged over to meet them.
"Where've you been?" She asked George, looking him up and down.
"Spying on the Hufflepuff practice, like you asked me to."
Angelina stuck her finger at him, "I didn't ask you to do any such thing —"
Marigold laughed, "Don't worry Ang, he's just being a prat today. If he shares anything he's seen at my practice, I'll hex his big nose off."
George shrugged, innocuously, "Just doing my duty to my house." She felt the weight of his arm lift off her shoulders and a small part of her felt sad.
Angelina huffed at him, taking Marigold by the arm, "Let's go, Bernie's waiting for us in the library."
Marigold looked at George, "I'll see you at dinner, Weasley."
He smiled at her, "That you will."
He watched Marigold send him a last smile before crossing the corridor with Angelina. Only after they'd disappeared into the next corridor did George turn on his heel towards the Gryffindor common room. Passing nobody, he reached the portrait of the Fat Lady in less than five minutes.
"Baubles." He muttered and the portrait swung forward.
Stepping through the portal, he spotted Lee and Fred at one of the desks in the common room. It seemed that studying potions had long since been abandoned and now the table in front of them was filled with Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes packaging.
"Hey," He said when he noticed them, "You can't be making business decisions without all the business partners present."
Fred glanced up at him, "We couldn't wait forever for your date to end."
He swatted his brother lightly over the head, "Don't be an arse, it wasn't a date."
Fred chuckled, "Whatever you say."
"Let's focus here, we need to get these Fainting Fancies tested," Lee said, pulling out a packet filled with multi-coloured sweets from inside his schoolbag.
George fell back into one of the armchairs nearby, sighing loudly. He was exhausted from his early morning Quidditch practice, he didn't know why Angelina insisted they have practices before classes. The double Charms that afternoon with Flitwick didn't help his headache either.
He shut his eyes, letting his head fall back against the chair. Even with his eyes closed, all George could see was the green length of Quidditch pitch and Marigold flying up and down as if she was the only person in the air. He opened his eyes and rubbed them, he hadn't been able to get her face off his mind in days - not that he would dare share that with anybody.
"How was the practice anyways?" George was pulled out of his thoughts when his brother addressed him.
"Hmm?"
"The Hufflepuff practice. Why did you go anyways, seeing as it "wasn't a date"?" Fred asked standing to crash onto the couch opposite George.
"It was fine, Marigold's really good." He replied vaguely, "I went cause I was interested."
Fred gave him an unbelieving look, "Interested in the Quidditch or in Marigold?"
George shrugged him off, "The Quidditch mostly, but also Angelina was talking a few days ago about how Marigold was nervous to see that prick, Smith, after what happened on Saturday. I just went to make sure he didn't cause her any trouble."
Lee grinned quietly to himself and Fred cooed.
"Aw, is George a cutie or what?" Fred teased and George flipped him off.
"Relax, bro," He said, "If that's really the reason you went, you should know by now that Marigold's more than able to look after herself."
George nodded, eager to change the topic, "Yeah ... what is it you were saying about the Fancies?"
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