You, Mary Sue
Jun. 1st, 2007 11:35 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
girlyswotFinally, my contribution to this fabulous challenge. No prizes for guessing which HP character this features. In my defence, I'd like to point out that I actually would have been in the same school year as Charlie (he's about eighteen months older than me but I was a year ahead of myself at school).
Charlie leaned back, letting the wind blow through his sweat-dampened curls. It had been a good practice. The Wood boy was shaping up nicely and there were a handful of younger students worth training up. Even the twins, he thought with a rueful twist of his lips. At least they seemed to take Quidditch seriously.
He felt a gust of wind and, without conscious thought, pulled his broom up with the current, executing a perfect loop. There was nothing like Quidditch for lightening the heart and quickening the senses. Charlie knew that the sun was falling fast and that there was a pile of homework waiting for him in the common room but he couldn’t resist another sweep of the pitch. He let the Nimbus have its head, enjoying the sense of being almost out of control. He opened his mouth and let out a loud noise of pure delight.
Holding the broom between his knees, Charlie circled downwards, idly aiming for the spot that marked the exact centre of the pitch. He grinned to himself when he landed, foot hitting the mark with unexpected precision. A single round of applause from the stands caused him to swallow the grin rapidly and look about him in the darkness.
Oh. His lips pressed together into an unwilling smile. It was the Muggle girl.
Charlie remembered the letter Bill had had from Dumbledore over the summer, warning him, as Head Boy, that they were expecting 24 Muggle students to join the school for a term, as part of a new experimental exchange programme. Breaking the barriers between worlds, the Ministry called it. Utter idiocy, Percy had pronounced it. Bill had merely shrugged and said that whatever the politics, he’d expect all the Gryffindors to take the lead in making the newcomers welcome. Charlie hadn’t thought much of it at the time, beyond a general curiosity to see how the Muggles would cope without magic.
They’d had a reduced timetable, of course. No point putting them in Charms or Transfiguration. History of Magic was compulsory for all the Muggles. Then they could choose between Astrology and Arithmancy, and Herbology or Care of Magical Creatures. That’s how he’d got to know Rosie. She was the only Muggle in his year who’d chosen Care of Magical Creatures. Charlie had been impressed at her obvious ease with creatures that frightened most witches and wizards he knew.
He’d walked back with her to Gryffindor Tower after their first lesson. She told him that she’d grown up on a farm with animals all around. She had a pony that she’d had to leave in livery stables when she came to Hogwarts. Not meeting Charlie’s eye, she’d admitted that although of course she missed her family, leaving Sandy had been much harder. Shyly, she’d produced a picture of the ugliest horse Charlie had ever seen. Piebald, with splotches over flank and nose, the animal was baring its teeth in a frankly aggressive way that seemed faintly ridiculous for the spindly legged pony. On impulse, Charlie had suggested that Rosie might like to come with him next time he gave Hagrid a hand with the unicorns.
She’d stopped in her tracks and simply stared at him in amazement. Apparently Muggles thought unicorns didn’t really exist. Charlie winked at her and pointed out that most Muggles thought wizards didn’t really exist. Rosie had nodded seriously and put out a hand to touch his forearm, as if she were checking something.
He didn’t know what she was doing here, though. She’d been to the Quidditch matches but she’d admitted to Charlie that she’d never really seen the point of ball games.
‘I mean, if it matters that much to someone to put a ball through a hoop, I can’t bring myself to be bothered to stop them.’
Charlie had grinned. ‘So you won’t come and cheer me on?’
‘You play?’
‘Seeker,’ he’d told her.
‘That’s the one that hangs about for most of the game doing nothing, then dives in to seize the dramatic victory?’
‘Well, that’s the plan. We’re playing Hufflepuff on Saturday.’
‘Oh. Well I don’t suppose I’m doing anything else.’
‘Such enthusiasm.’ He’d nudged her with his elbow, enjoying watching her blush. ‘You know, there’s another benefit of playing Seeker.’
‘Is there?’
‘If you catch the Snitch then tradition says you get to snatch a kiss with the Gryffindor of your choice.’
‘Tradition?’ Rosie’s voice was highly sceptical.
‘Exactly,’ he’d told her. ‘I’ve played Seeker for the last three years and I can assure you I’ve done it every time.’
She’d laughed reluctantly at that but changed the subject promptly.
So now, the evening before the game, here she was, sitting in the stands, apparently having watched the practice and waiting while he showed off. With hands that were suddenly clammy and knees that felt much more wobbly than a couple of hours flying could account for, he picked up his broom and walked over.
‘Hi.’
She clambered over the rail and came to meet him. ‘Pretty impressive flying.’
‘Thanks.’
Her arms were folded over her chest and she was looking down at the ground. Charlie watched, fascinated, as she began to chew her lip. She was nervous as well, then.
‘Have you ever sat on a broomstick?’ he asked.
Rosie looked up in surprise, her dark brown eyes framed with delicate lashes. ‘No,’ she answered slowly. ‘Of course not.’
‘Here.’ Charlie mounted again and indicated that she should sit in front of him. ‘I’ll take you up.’
Rosie gave him a strange look but climbed on easily enough. He noticed that she was gripping the stick with both hands and that her knuckles were white with the strain.
‘Hey,’ he whispered, finding that her ear was closer than he’d expected. Her soft brown hair stroked against his cheek and he felt a little shiver run down his back. ‘Are you scared?’
She shifted slightly and he thought she shrugged.
‘Of flying?’ he pressed.
‘Not exactly,’ she mumbled. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. ‘I’m scared of heights, okay?’
‘Okay,’ Charlie told her, resting one hand on her knee. ‘We won’t go high, all right?’
‘All right. And maybe not too fast, either?’
Charlie grinned. ‘Not too fast, either. I’m going to kick off now, okay?’
He held the broom steady, mindful of her nerves. He’d left his hand on her knee and he could feel as she began to relax. Charlie leaned over her shoulder and was absurdly pleased when she wriggled backwards against him.
‘A little higher?’ he checked, already pointing the handle upwards. ‘And perhaps a little faster?’
She gave a little scream at the sudden spurt. Charlie moved his hand to hold her round her waist. ‘It’s all right, I’ve got you.’ That seemed to calm her a bit. Tentatively, she took one of her hands from the broom and laid it over his. Charlie felt his stomach – or perhaps his heart – leap about in a most unfamiliar way.
‘It’s very peaceful, isn’t it?’
Charlie felt anything but peaceful. ‘Um, how do you mean?’
‘Up here. It’s like you’ve escaped the world for a bit.’
‘It’s the only place I feel properly alive,’ Charlie admitted. ‘When I’m in the air, I mean.' He hadn't meant to mention this to anyone but it suddenly seemed important that she knew. 'Rosie, can I tell you a secret? When I leave school I’m going to work on a dragon reserve. In Romania.’
Rosie twisted round to squint up at him. ‘Why is that a secret?’
Charlie ran a hand through his hair. Rosie squeaked in alarm. ‘Charlie! The broom!’
He raised a questioning eyebrow. ‘What’s the problem?’
‘What’s holding it up?’ She had one hand clutching his and the other desperately holding onto the handle of the Nimbus. Charlie reached to stroke her cheek, soothing the strain in her jaw.
‘It’s fine,’ he assured her. ‘It’s just like riding a horse. Your knees do the real work.’
Rosie closed her eyes and let her breath out. ‘Can we go back down now?’
Landing with a passenger was quite a lot harder. Charlie tried to be casual about it, misjudged the balance and ended by tipping Rosie onto the grass. Damn.
‘Sorry.’ He held out his hand and helped Rosie to her feet. She had bits of grass all through her hair. Charlie started to pick them out. He was standing just inches away from her and couldn’t seem to stop his heart beating so loudly he was sure Rosie must be able to hear it.
‘Charlie?’ There was a smile in her eyes. Maybe she was laughing at him.
‘Hmm?’
‘Are you scared?’ Now he was sure she was laughing at him.
‘Charlie?’
‘What?’
‘There isn’t a tradition, is there?’
Damn. ‘No. No tradition.’
She was leaning forward. ‘Good,’ she whispered.
Good? What did that mean? Didn’t she want to be kissed?
‘I’d hate to think that you only kissed me because of some stupid tradition.’ Rosie had pulled away a little and was grinning up at him.
‘Ah. But if I kissed you because… I liked you?’
She pretended to consider this. Charlie decided enough was enough. He put one hand behind Rosie’s head and pulled her firmly towards him, kissing her in a way that he hoped made his intentions quite clear. Eventually he pulled away to draw breath and gaze at her. She looked beautiful in the moonlight. All soft curves and glowing eyes. She’d grasped his other hand at some point and Charlie looked down at them now, linked fingers that seemed to be tangled up in a knot.
‘Because it’s dangerous and my Mum will have ten kinds of fit when she finds out.’
Rosie frowned. ‘What..? Oh. The dragons. I won’t tell anyone.’
‘Thanks.’
‘Only, maybe…’ She paused, doing that thing with her lip again. Charlie squeezed her hand and waited. ‘Maybe one day, could I visit? I’ve never met a dragon.’
‘They’re about as big and scary as you’re imagining,’ he warned her.
‘That’s okay,’ she told him, leaning up to kiss him again. ‘You’ll keep me safe, Charlie.’
He felt a gust of wind and, without conscious thought, pulled his broom up with the current, executing a perfect loop. There was nothing like Quidditch for lightening the heart and quickening the senses. Charlie knew that the sun was falling fast and that there was a pile of homework waiting for him in the common room but he couldn’t resist another sweep of the pitch. He let the Nimbus have its head, enjoying the sense of being almost out of control. He opened his mouth and let out a loud noise of pure delight.
Holding the broom between his knees, Charlie circled downwards, idly aiming for the spot that marked the exact centre of the pitch. He grinned to himself when he landed, foot hitting the mark with unexpected precision. A single round of applause from the stands caused him to swallow the grin rapidly and look about him in the darkness.
Oh. His lips pressed together into an unwilling smile. It was the Muggle girl.
Charlie remembered the letter Bill had had from Dumbledore over the summer, warning him, as Head Boy, that they were expecting 24 Muggle students to join the school for a term, as part of a new experimental exchange programme. Breaking the barriers between worlds, the Ministry called it. Utter idiocy, Percy had pronounced it. Bill had merely shrugged and said that whatever the politics, he’d expect all the Gryffindors to take the lead in making the newcomers welcome. Charlie hadn’t thought much of it at the time, beyond a general curiosity to see how the Muggles would cope without magic.
They’d had a reduced timetable, of course. No point putting them in Charms or Transfiguration. History of Magic was compulsory for all the Muggles. Then they could choose between Astrology and Arithmancy, and Herbology or Care of Magical Creatures. That’s how he’d got to know Rosie. She was the only Muggle in his year who’d chosen Care of Magical Creatures. Charlie had been impressed at her obvious ease with creatures that frightened most witches and wizards he knew.
He’d walked back with her to Gryffindor Tower after their first lesson. She told him that she’d grown up on a farm with animals all around. She had a pony that she’d had to leave in livery stables when she came to Hogwarts. Not meeting Charlie’s eye, she’d admitted that although of course she missed her family, leaving Sandy had been much harder. Shyly, she’d produced a picture of the ugliest horse Charlie had ever seen. Piebald, with splotches over flank and nose, the animal was baring its teeth in a frankly aggressive way that seemed faintly ridiculous for the spindly legged pony. On impulse, Charlie had suggested that Rosie might like to come with him next time he gave Hagrid a hand with the unicorns.
She’d stopped in her tracks and simply stared at him in amazement. Apparently Muggles thought unicorns didn’t really exist. Charlie winked at her and pointed out that most Muggles thought wizards didn’t really exist. Rosie had nodded seriously and put out a hand to touch his forearm, as if she were checking something.
He didn’t know what she was doing here, though. She’d been to the Quidditch matches but she’d admitted to Charlie that she’d never really seen the point of ball games.
‘I mean, if it matters that much to someone to put a ball through a hoop, I can’t bring myself to be bothered to stop them.’
Charlie had grinned. ‘So you won’t come and cheer me on?’
‘You play?’
‘Seeker,’ he’d told her.
‘That’s the one that hangs about for most of the game doing nothing, then dives in to seize the dramatic victory?’
‘Well, that’s the plan. We’re playing Hufflepuff on Saturday.’
‘Oh. Well I don’t suppose I’m doing anything else.’
‘Such enthusiasm.’ He’d nudged her with his elbow, enjoying watching her blush. ‘You know, there’s another benefit of playing Seeker.’
‘Is there?’
‘If you catch the Snitch then tradition says you get to snatch a kiss with the Gryffindor of your choice.’
‘Tradition?’ Rosie’s voice was highly sceptical.
‘Exactly,’ he’d told her. ‘I’ve played Seeker for the last three years and I can assure you I’ve done it every time.’
She’d laughed reluctantly at that but changed the subject promptly.
So now, the evening before the game, here she was, sitting in the stands, apparently having watched the practice and waiting while he showed off. With hands that were suddenly clammy and knees that felt much more wobbly than a couple of hours flying could account for, he picked up his broom and walked over.
‘Hi.’
She clambered over the rail and came to meet him. ‘Pretty impressive flying.’
‘Thanks.’
Her arms were folded over her chest and she was looking down at the ground. Charlie watched, fascinated, as she began to chew her lip. She was nervous as well, then.
‘Have you ever sat on a broomstick?’ he asked.
Rosie looked up in surprise, her dark brown eyes framed with delicate lashes. ‘No,’ she answered slowly. ‘Of course not.’
‘Here.’ Charlie mounted again and indicated that she should sit in front of him. ‘I’ll take you up.’
Rosie gave him a strange look but climbed on easily enough. He noticed that she was gripping the stick with both hands and that her knuckles were white with the strain.
‘Hey,’ he whispered, finding that her ear was closer than he’d expected. Her soft brown hair stroked against his cheek and he felt a little shiver run down his back. ‘Are you scared?’
She shifted slightly and he thought she shrugged.
‘Of flying?’ he pressed.
‘Not exactly,’ she mumbled. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. ‘I’m scared of heights, okay?’
‘Okay,’ Charlie told her, resting one hand on her knee. ‘We won’t go high, all right?’
‘All right. And maybe not too fast, either?’
Charlie grinned. ‘Not too fast, either. I’m going to kick off now, okay?’
He held the broom steady, mindful of her nerves. He’d left his hand on her knee and he could feel as she began to relax. Charlie leaned over her shoulder and was absurdly pleased when she wriggled backwards against him.
‘A little higher?’ he checked, already pointing the handle upwards. ‘And perhaps a little faster?’
She gave a little scream at the sudden spurt. Charlie moved his hand to hold her round her waist. ‘It’s all right, I’ve got you.’ That seemed to calm her a bit. Tentatively, she took one of her hands from the broom and laid it over his. Charlie felt his stomach – or perhaps his heart – leap about in a most unfamiliar way.
‘It’s very peaceful, isn’t it?’
Charlie felt anything but peaceful. ‘Um, how do you mean?’
‘Up here. It’s like you’ve escaped the world for a bit.’
‘It’s the only place I feel properly alive,’ Charlie admitted. ‘When I’m in the air, I mean.' He hadn't meant to mention this to anyone but it suddenly seemed important that she knew. 'Rosie, can I tell you a secret? When I leave school I’m going to work on a dragon reserve. In Romania.’
Rosie twisted round to squint up at him. ‘Why is that a secret?’
Charlie ran a hand through his hair. Rosie squeaked in alarm. ‘Charlie! The broom!’
He raised a questioning eyebrow. ‘What’s the problem?’
‘What’s holding it up?’ She had one hand clutching his and the other desperately holding onto the handle of the Nimbus. Charlie reached to stroke her cheek, soothing the strain in her jaw.
‘It’s fine,’ he assured her. ‘It’s just like riding a horse. Your knees do the real work.’
Rosie closed her eyes and let her breath out. ‘Can we go back down now?’
Landing with a passenger was quite a lot harder. Charlie tried to be casual about it, misjudged the balance and ended by tipping Rosie onto the grass. Damn.
‘Sorry.’ He held out his hand and helped Rosie to her feet. She had bits of grass all through her hair. Charlie started to pick them out. He was standing just inches away from her and couldn’t seem to stop his heart beating so loudly he was sure Rosie must be able to hear it.
‘Charlie?’ There was a smile in her eyes. Maybe she was laughing at him.
‘Hmm?’
‘Are you scared?’ Now he was sure she was laughing at him.
‘Charlie?’
‘What?’
‘There isn’t a tradition, is there?’
Damn. ‘No. No tradition.’
She was leaning forward. ‘Good,’ she whispered.
Good? What did that mean? Didn’t she want to be kissed?
‘I’d hate to think that you only kissed me because of some stupid tradition.’ Rosie had pulled away a little and was grinning up at him.
‘Ah. But if I kissed you because… I liked you?’
She pretended to consider this. Charlie decided enough was enough. He put one hand behind Rosie’s head and pulled her firmly towards him, kissing her in a way that he hoped made his intentions quite clear. Eventually he pulled away to draw breath and gaze at her. She looked beautiful in the moonlight. All soft curves and glowing eyes. She’d grasped his other hand at some point and Charlie looked down at them now, linked fingers that seemed to be tangled up in a knot.
‘Because it’s dangerous and my Mum will have ten kinds of fit when she finds out.’
Rosie frowned. ‘What..? Oh. The dragons. I won’t tell anyone.’
‘Thanks.’
‘Only, maybe…’ She paused, doing that thing with her lip again. Charlie squeezed her hand and waited. ‘Maybe one day, could I visit? I’ve never met a dragon.’
‘They’re about as big and scary as you’re imagining,’ he warned her.
‘That’s okay,’ she told him, leaning up to kiss him again. ‘You’ll keep me safe, Charlie.’
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Date: 2007-06-13 02:50 am (UTC)For a Mary Sue fic, this is really cute. :)