The Little Things

This story is
based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling,
various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books,
Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money
is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.


Oneshot rating: G+

~~*~~

It was
the little things that let Harry know they would be together,
always.

The Quidditch final. England had, for the first time
in years, made it, and were now once again battling against Bulgaria,
who, unsurprisingly, had also wormed their way into the final.

Krum
soared through the air, eyes sharp, looking for the snitch. Despite
the many women screaming over him from the stands – both
England's and Bulgaria's –, Harry's attention wasn't on him,
wasn't anywhere near him, in fact.

It was on the other end of
the pitch, eyes fixated on England's own seeker.

A bludger
soared dangerously close and Harry's breath caught. This was one of
the reasons he couldn't stand watching Cedric Diggory play Quidditch.
The anticipation, the worry. What if a bludger smacked into the back
of his head? What if a deceitful player pushed him from the broom? It
wasn't friendly, happy-go-lucky Hogwarts Quidditch. It was the real
world, with ten times more danger.

And yet, as Cedric dodged
the bludger easily, Harry also remembered why he loved watching
the light of his life play Quidditch. The grace on a broom (not
usually mirrored on land, by either of them), the exhilaration
dusting his cheeks pink. The enormous smile gracing his lips.


Beside him, Ron playfully thwacked him upside the head. Harry
scowled, turning to him and rubbing the 'injured' spot. “You
were making doe-eyes... again,” Ron offered, by way of
explanation. Hermione, on Ron's other side, laughed and shook her
head, hitting Ron on the arm (no one was able to reach his head these
days).

“Right, because you don't do the exact same thing
when Hermione gets into one of her speeches about Magical Creature's
Rights,” Harry mumbled, hoping Hermione didn't hear. She was
very sensitive about
her job, which Harry and Ron mercilessly took the rip out of. Cedric,
of course, offered her encouraging words.

Hermione,
unsurprisingly, was half smitten with him. And, despite jealous
grumbles, Ron was completely taken in by the Hufflepuff, too.

Harry
turned his doe-eyes back to Cedric, just in time to see the seeker
make a sudden dive. The crowd quieted for a split second as all eyes
zoomed in on the snitch, before voices began screaming.
Krum saw where Cedric was heading and dove towards it, but he was too
late.

Cedric's gloved hand wrapped around the tiny fluttering
ball, and he pulled out of the sharp dive, seconds before hitting the
ground nose-first. He soared back up again, grin threatening the
split his face, ripping off his goggles and throwing them into the
crowd (a thousand females instantly throwing themselves on top of
each other to reach them, Ron wanting to join them).

Cedric
soared close by as the Bulgarians grumpily flew away and, seeing
Harry, his grin managed to grow wider, if possible. He closed in,
grabbing Harry's jumper collar and pulling him in for a brief, but
intense kiss, before his team assaulted him.

Ron snickered at
Harry's dazed look, but Harry didn't care as he watched Cedric being
enveloped by his ecstatic team.

Yes, it was the little things
that let Harry know they'd be together. Always.

~~*~~

Hope
you enjoyed it! I write these as they come if the muse strikes me,
but if anyone wants to offer me prompts, I'd gladly try and write a
oneshot for it.

Oneshot lengths vary, but most are short
little things to let out 'writer's frustration'.

If you liked
it, or think there's something I could improve on, I hope you review!