A Little Bit of Love and Laughter

It was just beginning to get dark as Roger and I headed down to the Quidditch pitch. He tossed one of the school's brooms to me, as I did not have one of my own, and lugged out the large box containing the Quidditch equipment. He took out the biggest, red ball, the Quaffle. Even though the basics of Quidditch had already been explained in detail to me during my first year, Roger still liked thinking himself an expert on the sport and made a point of explicating even the most miniscule aspects before allowing us to begin our game.

"Ready?" he asked as he ascended, Quaffle in hand.

I made my best attempt to get myself even with him and replied, "Guess so."

"All right, then. You'll be Keeper. You have to block the Quaffle from making its way into the hoop. I'm the Chaser, so I try to get the Quaffle in the hoop. You block. Got it?"

I nodded. It wasn't a very difficult concept at all, especially when I already understood the general rules of the game.

He was obviously going easy on me. I had seen him play real games of Quidditch, and his throwing speed was much slower right now than it was usually. "Let's switch," I said with a grin.

"Switch? Why?"

"Well, I already know that you're an incredible Chaser," I replied. "But I'd like to find out if you're a Keeper."

Oh, I was so punny. I was quite glad that the twins were rubbing off so on me.

It took him a while to catch my joke, but when he did, he let out a chuckle and switched places with me, tossing me the Quaffle, and we continued our game with reversed roles.

The competition was much fairer this way, as Roger's skills as a Chaser were far superior to his skills as a Keeper. It wasn't very hard to sneak the Quaffle past him. I had already scored about fifty points before he finally accepted defeat.

"You win," he sighed with a smile. "Can we maybe take a break now?"

"A break already? Come on, you lazy sloth!" I was having quite a bit of fun, and it was reassuring to know that I had some Quidditch skill.

"Lazy sloth?" he asked. "What do you mean?"

I wondered for a moment why he didn't laugh before realizing that it had been an inside joke between the twins and me.

"Nevermind," I replied. "You wanted to take a break?"

We sat down in the bleachers and just talked for a while, enjoying the cool night air and the comfort of conversation.

"What do you call a cow with no legs?" He paused, waiting for a response. I told him that I didn't know, and he continued, "Ground beef!"

Roger's jokes seemed like they had been pulled from a children's book. I had been spoiled by the twins; they had a firm understanding of and gift for humour. Nearly everything they said left me in stitches.

What was wrong with me? There must have been a reason that I could hardly focus on a word that Roger was saying. He had already told – or attempted to tell—me this story at least four times.

"Isn't that great, Em?" he asked, still chuckling. At least he cracked himself up. "I'm glad you appreciate quality humour when you hear it."

Yes. Quality humour. That's precisely what I would classify it as. I forced a giggle and hoped that he wouldn't catch that it was fake.

"You know, most girls in this school only like me because I'm brilliant and attractive and great at Quidditch. But not you. You listen to me, so you know that I'm also extremely funny."

"And humble," I added under my breath.

"You're really great, Em." Thank goodness; he hadn't heard me. "I've had a great time tonight. And I'd love the chance to do this again."

He was a nice guy – a bit ostentatious, but nice. And I had fun, too. It was definitely worth another attempt. Next time, I would just have to focus more on Roger and less on... well... everything else.

"Mind if I...?" His face was hardly an inch away from mine, and I hesitantly nodded, allowing his lips to gently hit mine. I was slightly taken aback by the sensation, and my eyes fluttered open for a moment. I caught a glimpse of a red-haired figure from far off in the distance, just outside the pitch, before it completely disappeared from view. There was no question in my mind as to whom the silhouette had belonged.

"Is everything all right?" Roger asked, brushing his hand lightly across my jawline and snapping me from my daze. After I nodded, he brought his lips back to my own, and we snogged under the moonlight until he walked me back to the common room.