Fly With Me (Harry)

[ron]

Harry was brilliant. Ron was brilliant. They were some brilliant boys. Ron could not help thinking this as both boys walked out of the castle into the gorgeous weather. It was one of the last nice days they would have. Why in Merlin’s beard did they even consider for a moment that they should waste time inside doing homework? Fly when you can; do homework when you can’t. That’s how they should live their lives. Oh, sure, Hermione would get mad and tell them that she would not help them with their homework, but they all knew she would. She just did not understand the fun of flying. What if Ron took away her books? How would she feel about that? She would be bored and miserable. Flying was like reading for Ron, but he didn’t learn anything except perhaps some new moves.

“So what do you want to do? Play one-on-one with the Quaffle or fly around? It’s going to be light for a while if you want to release the snitch and practice with that,” Ron did not care at all what they did. He was just happy that they were outside. The sun’s rays felt warm on his jeans and Gryffindor colored striped long sleeve polo. He probably would get hot really fast, but it was not a real work-out unless someone was sweating. The closer they walked toward the pitch, the larger the pull he felt. Ron would never be a great flyer like Harry, but he still loved it more than anything else. His brother Charlie could have played for England. That never would happen to Ron, but he could still dream. Sometimes he did. He dreamt of playing at the Quidditch World Cup, with fans gasping in shock at his saves and cheering. The thought of his latest such dream brought a smile to his face.

((Sorry so short! I hate intro posts.))

[harryjamespotter]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 500px; height: 400px; background-image: url(http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u62/King_Giana/Harry%20Potter/harry_potter_bgbw.jpg); -moz-border-radius: 250px; border-radius: 30px 30px 30px 30px; border: 0px solid #414141] Fly With Me Harry was glad to be outside the castle. Things had started to become a bit oddly stifling in the Gryffindor tower, and one thing Harry found that could consistently calm him when he felt crowded was the outdoors. In all honesty, the two places Harry had felt most comfortable growing up had been his Muggle elementary school's library, and working in Aunt Petunia's garden. Sure, the last had been a chore, but Dudley never bothered him when he was working on Aunt Petunia's flowerbeds. The outdoors was a place of refuge - the air was clear, and there was always plenty of room to run if things got testy. The outdoors didn't have corners or corridors; it was open space, and upon coming to Hogwarts, a whole new world outside had opened up to Harry. The sky had always seemed a limitless and unobtainable thing to Harry growing up. He could not count the times he had wished to be as a bird, freely flying above all his troubles and having no expectations, no disappointments. Flying granted Harry that feeling - as though all his responsibilities and worries just dropped away, staying rooted to the ground as he soared and swooped, waiting patiently for him to return but allowing him his freedom, for a time. Harry wanted nothing more than to hop on his Firebolt and break off, feel the wind whip at his face until his pores felt closed and frozen from it, but instead he waited to see what Ron wished to do. A part of Harry wanted to release the Snitch, but that wouldn't be fair for Ron, who was certainly no seeker. So instead, Harry grinned and stated, "Let's toss the Quaffle around a bit. See which one of us fumbles more often," he added in a lightly joking tone, before heading to the Quidditch Stadium storage locker to fetch said ball. Feeling confident that Ron would probably win this one if they made it into a contest, Harry added a competitive element to boost his friends spirits, as Ron seemed a bit low by all the homework they had this year. "First person to fumble ten times has to buy the other a butterbeer next Hogsmeade weekend!" Harry stated cheerfully, grinning at Ron with all confidence. Its all good <3

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[ron]

Ron secretly was glad that Harry did not want to release the Snitch. There was no way that Ron could compete with Harry. Ron just did not have the eyes for it. Funny that a half-blind midget could see something small and fast better than Ron could. There would have been no competition. Throw in that Harry had the best broom on the market and Ron might as well just sit on the sidelines and try to grab the Snitch from there. At least working with the Quaffle made it fairer. Yes, Harry had the better broom, but Ron had more experience. The only bad part about having more experience was that if Ron lost to Harry, he would feel very, very low about himself.

“That would be you, Potter,” Ron said teasingly. When Harry made the bet, Ron nodded, trying to feel confident. He was just playing with Harry. There was no one around to say anything to him. He would be fine. He had played with Harry loads of times before when they had spent summers at the Burrow. Nothing to be nervous about. He nodded again, “You’re on.” Ron knew what he was doing. He had been practicing loads since they returned, which was why he was so far behind in his homework. This would be a cinch. He would catch all of the throws and Harry would have to buy him a butterbeer whenever they next went to Hogsmeade. It was a brilliant plan.

“I’ll try to take it easy on you,” Ron said cheekily.

[harryjamespotter]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 500px; height: 400px; background-image: url(http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u62/King_Giana/Harry%20Potter/harry_potter_bgbw.jpg); -moz-border-radius: 250px; border-radius: 30px 30px 30px 30px; border: 0px solid #414141] Fly With Me Harry grinned at Ron, glad the other boy was willing to jest. There were times when Harry picked up on the fact Ron felt a bit overshadowed by him, and whenever he did Harry tried to play on some of Ron's strengths to subtlety remind his friend he had a lot of good things going for him, too. The gift and curse of Ron, was that subtlety nearly always flew over his head. He was a very black and white, blunt person who didn't really notice the more undertoned nuances in things. This was both a good and bad thing, as with Harry, it often resulted in the redhead being cheered up without him realizing it was being done on purpose. Unfortunately, with Hermione, it meant he missed a bunch of clues that even Harry found a bit blatant at times. "We'll see about that, won't we?" Harry tossed back confidently, intending to give it his best shot regardless. It would be a good way for Ron to practice up in any case, and if Ron won the bet with Harry trying his best, then Harry felt it would not only be fair but would give Ron's confidence the boost it seemed to need today. Taking the Quaffle out of its spot in the trunk, Harry closed the lid and locked the bludgers and snitch back up before heading out onto the pitch, tossing the ball Ron's way with a grin. "Sure you will, Ron," Harry laughed, and mounted his broom, rising up to the typical height for releasing the Quaffle and starting a game. "Lets see what you've got then!" Harry challenged, already feeling happy just hovering. Yay, flying XD

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[ron]

The good thing about Harry was that Ron knew in no way would he let him win, just like Ron would never let Harry win in Wizard’s Chess. That was Ron’s strength. Harry could have Quidditch, but just not Keeping because that was almost Ron’s strength… when he was relaxed. But out here, with just his best mate and a friendly competition, and no one watching him, he might stand a chance. When Harry tossed him the Quaffle, he caught it with his left hand since his right hand held his broom. Good start. Too bad that save did not count because they did not even get in the air yet. With the Quaffle firmly in his hand, he mounted his broom and shot off after Harry. The wind whipped his hair which was a bit too long. With all of the ongoings this summer, his mother had not had a chance to harass him about cutting it before school. Ron liked his hair long. It made him look cool.

Ron hovered across from Harry for a moment before bringing his arm back and releasing the Quaffle. It was an easy throw that Harry would probably catch. Ron wanted to win, but he wouldn’t throw anything crazy just to make his friend lose. Well, maybe by the end when competition got fierce, but not right now. At the moment, they were just friends having some fun and immaturely avoiding homework. The silence was too eerie for Ron though, “I was thinking I might try out for the Cannons after Hogwarts,” Ron said, mostly to himself, but still loud enough for Harry to hear. “I know I’m not great, but I might still be able to pull them out of last place, you know?”

[harryjamespotter]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 500px; height: 400px; background-image: url(http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u62/King_Giana/Harry%20Potter/harry_potter_bgbw.jpg); -moz-border-radius: 250px; border-radius: 30px 30px 30px 30px; border: 0px solid #414141] Fly With Me Harry had to hand it to Ron - the left handed catch was pretty well done. He hadn't thought about it when he'd tossed the ball, but Ron was traditionally right handed. Grinning for his friend, Harry waited for Ron to join him in the air. It wasn't long until Ron had joined him, launching the Quaffle Harry-ward with a decent lob that Harry had no trouble chasing. The Quaffle was so much bigger and heavier than a Snitch, so though he did catch it, Harry fumbled a wee bit before managing to swing it back toward his mate from the tips of his fingers. This, naturally, resulted in a pitifully wobbly throw that left Harry feeling somewhat amused with himself. Looking at Ron, Harry was both surprised yet not with the announcement. He knew Ron loved Quidditch - and, for reasons beyond Harry - the Canons. For a boy who knew so much about Quidditch strategy, statistics and gameplay, that he continued to fawn after the most consistently terrible team in the league was incomprehensible to Harry. Still, the last thing he was about to do was not encourage his friend. He couldn't help poking a bit of fun though. "That'd be great Ron!" Harry stated, before grinning, "You'd be a right sight better than the rest of the team, so they'll have no choice but to draft you to the Arrows, He deliberately chose the team that brought on the Cannons now seemingly-endless losing streak, Where you'll have some actual competition against your fellow players!" Oh no he didn't? XDD

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[ron]

Ron had to fly a little bit closer to catch Harry’s throw. He raised an eyebrow at his friend’s throw. He almost made a joke, but stopped at the very last second and just threw the Quaffle back with a bit more force. If he teased Harry for almost missing it, then Harry would surely tease him if he dropped it. Ron would not be able to face that without his trademark red ears. If they built up their skills, it would be better. He figured if he made it a smidge harder each time, at some point, it would be an interesting game. Ron obviously wanted to beat Harry, but if both of them only missed it once or twice, Ron would still be happy. He could live with a tie, but he could not live with losing.

“Loyalty, Harry!” Ron shouted, feigning a look of shock, “I would never abandon my Cannons. I’m going to prove everyone wrong and make them the best team anyone has ever seen. Keep up the jokes and I won’t get you season tickets.” Ron stuck out his tongue, quite immaturely. He loved just joking with his friends with no serious thoughts plaguing them. This is how it should be to be 15 years old, “I know you think you’re special and all, but you’re not as great as Lockhart. You haven’t won Prattiest Smile of the Year ten times over yet. Maybe I’ll just give my season tickets to him.” For a moment, Ron wondered what happened to their second year Defense Against the Dark Arts professor before Ron remembered that he really did not care. After trying to erase their memories and trying to abandon his sister, Lockhart could be in Azkaban for all Ron cared.

[harryjamespotter]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 500px; height: 400px; background-image: url(http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u62/King_Giana/Harry%20Potter/harry_potter_bgbw.jpg); -moz-border-radius: 250px; border-radius: 30px 30px 30px 30px; border: 0px solid #414141] Fly With Me Harry was a bit surprised when his wobbly toss got no jibes, but was prepared for the Quaffle's weight when Ron tossed it this time. It came with a bit more packed into it, which led Harry to believe Ron was slowly raising his game up to keep things interesting. Not having much game to go on, being a rather terrible Chaser, Harry did manage to give off a fairly decent throw as he laughed at Ron, before feigning a horrified look. "You'd keep me from the cheering section of your games? How horrible!" As Ron goaded him about Lockhart, Harry laughed so hard he almost fell off his broom. "Prattiest - you mean Malfoy's won it again then?" He crowed, having to hand it to Ron for that one - it was considerably witty for a random toss from Ron. "Pity, I was hoping to get started on my winning streak, but he keeps interrupting me!" Harry added, grinning - like a prat, really. Short, sorry >.<

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[ron]

Ron caught Harry’s throwing, secretly wishing Harry was a Chaser. If all of the throws were like this, Ron would easily surpass Oliver Wood. He could tell that Harry was improving the more they played though. They were no longer easy catches. That was not to say that they were difficult. Playing catch was completely different than playing Quidditch. During Quidditch, Ron had to watch people throwing back and forth quickly to try to confuse him. All Ron had to do now was watch Harry when threw the ball and then catch it. To be honest, this was helping neither of them. He threw the Quaffle again, this time aiming to the left of Harry by about a foot, “Might as well make you work for it,” Ron shrugged, grinning innocently.

“I wouldn’t keep you from the cheering section,” Ron said, “I just wouldn’t let you in for free. I’d still expect you there every game with your hair dyed bright orange and wearing bright orange from head to toe.” The thought of Harry with orange hair was too horrifying, “You’d look like a cousin of mine. It’d sure as heck confuse Dad though. How would he separate all of us if he couldn’t just saying the non-gingers aren’t his?” Ron first heard his father say that before the Quidditch World Cup last year when talking to Amos Diggory. If Harry and Hermione were redheads, they would really be in trouble. It’d be a lot easier to find them in a crowd though.

When Harry almost fell off his broom, Ron laughed loudly, leaning forward and clutching his stomach at the sight, “You look like you’re back in first year, mate, and someone’s trying to jinx you off your broom. I can’t believe you’d let Malfoy beat you at anything,” Ron shook his head, trying to look serious. “I just don’t know who you are anymore. The Harry I knew would become the prattiest guy ever. He’d push down first years and walk around with five girlfriends, or do whatever he needed to just to claim the title.”