The New Pride of Portree by momotwins
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The Harpy With the Mohawk
Molly missed actually playing the game. Playing in front of a crowd, hearing the cheers and feeling the adrenaline of the game were some of the best times of her life. She missed the junior league when she'd been the star Keeper for her team, and she even missed her student days at Hogwarts and playing Keeper for Gryffindor. As much as she loved the Harpies, she was growing dissatisfied with her spot on the roster. Stepping up to the major leagues was starting to feel a lot like stepping down.
The New Lineup
Fitz spun around to see the now ex-Harpy but still mohawked Molly Weasley. The green was gone, and her hair was now a bright, brassy red that looked like a natural colour. He remembered Weasleys at school, all of them ginger. She was prettier than he remembered any of the Weasleys being at school, with a heart-shaped face and long eyelashes.
The Dreaded Ex
There wasn't much to do to prepare for the small party beyond setting out bottles and glasses. Her house was in its usual state of spotlessly perfect organization, right down to her liquors. She hid the colour-coding on the lids by replacing them with pour spouts, though.
Flight and Family
You could always tell a Weasley. At fifty paces, usually.
Drills and Defense
Fitz glanced at the game schedule and saw with horror that their first game was against Montrose. His old team. He wasn't ready to see them yet. His team didn't respect him as a coach. Hell, he didn't respect himself as a coach either. And they sure as hell weren't ready to take on the Magpies, one of the top teams in the league.
Magpies and Mistakes
“Well then he must get a case of nerves pretty often,” quipped Sid. “Not sure I'd recognize him any more if he weren't red-faced and shouting about what an idiot I am.”
A Pack of Wild Dogs
Preece and Gittins had attempted to ignore Fitz and spent the morning targeting the Chasers repeatedly before their coach, his face brick-red, had flown at them and shouted for ten minutes. It was difficult to ignore him when he was five inches from their faces and screaming.
A Sabotaged Sorceress
She called the lot of them together twenty minutes later, smiling encouragingly. “That was excellent! You all did very well. Now, how did that make you feel?”
A Fine Line
She was looking over at the team with a raised eyebrow. A few of them had gone back to the retreat to sleep, but everyone remaining was standing around Deimos, almost falling over with laughter. He was on the floor, rolling about like an overturned turtle and laughing his head off.
Fitz was rather stunned by the apology, not to mention Jinks's unexpected grasp on reality. He glanced at Molly. She wasn't saying anything, but she she was watching Jinks, her face expressionless.
“You lifted him into a wheelbarrow,” Weasley repeated, staring at him.
“I'm inspired,” said Jinks cheerfully. Molly glanced over her shoulder and saw him skipping along at the back of the queue, shaking one fist in the air. “I'm pumped.” Jinks turned, skipping backward now, and pointed at the Arrows. “I'm pumped! I'm getting that Snitch before you, Winston-Fisher!”
Stamp of Approval
“You've got it bad,” her sister said sympathetically. “You even think he's proper fit when he's shouting at everyone?”
Colour-Coded and Perfect
"Any scars that deep leave their mark, don't they?” She gave him a look that stated clearly she was including his own scars.
"Here," said Hilarion, thrusting Flora at her. "Hold the baby."
Strength of Will
“It's not that easy. You break things off, but you can't just shut your feelings off because you don't want to feel them anymore. Wouldn't that make things so much easier if you could?”
Let Us Break A Few Heads
Rakes set his jaw, giving Fitz a challenging look, and spread his arms wide. “Gonna do something about it? Or are you too busted up to throw a punch?”
“Don't call me perfect,” Molly groaned, slouching down in her chair. “I'm not perfect, I'm... I think I'm a mess, Roxy.”
He was in the middle of shouting at Sid for dropping the Quaffle when the commentator's words filtered through his brain.
Molly was getting very tired of the word perfect. “Just because I don’t always show my feelings doesn’t mean I haven't any.”
“I was worried about playing Montrose both times, and I wasn't even on the pitch,” Fitz told her. “I think it's normal. The others probably just kept it to themselves.”
An Off Day
“No such thing as luck,” Molly said, though years of being a professional athlete had given her a few doubts about that. Surreptitiously, she rapped her knuckles against the wooden desk.
They all knew. They all knew, and no one seemed to care. They were more impressed that he’d apologized than that he’d slept with the team captain.
Fitz blew out a long, slow breath. “I love when you say we.”
“He should be more relaxed than this,” quipped Sid when Fitz took a breath between rants. “Clearly you have honeymooned incorrectly.”
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