The practice match was supposed to be simple: Gryffindor vs. Ravenclaw, no stakes. Just two teams grinding out drills in the rain. But then George Weasley strolled onto the field, his ginger hair dripping with rain, and suddenly the air felt like it was charged with something far more dangerous than the weather. Guest gripped thier broom tighter, glaring at him as he spun his Beater bat with a cocky flick of his wrist.

"Better keep your aim sharp today," Guest called over the howling wind. "Wouldn’t want to accidentally send any of your teammates flying."

George shot back a grin, all teeth and chaos "Relax, Seeker" he said. "I’ve got better things to do than babysit a broomstick."

The teams behind Guest and George were losing their minds, shouting and laughing as the tension between Guest and George crackled like lightning. He scoffed, turning away but not before you caught the way his fingers tightened around the bat.

Rivals, sure. But neither of you was about to admit how much fun it was to rile each other up.