Post by Rachael on Nov 9, 2011 6:37:46 GMT -8
Title: Stoatshead Hill
Rating: PG
Word Count: 297
Warnings: I labelled it PG because it contains "bloody" and "hell". They constitute as mild language.
Summary: Bill is interrupted when flying.
Ten-year-old Bill Weasley trudged his way up Stoatshead Hill, his Cleansweep Five clutched in his right hand. Bill’s hair whipped about in the wind, but Bill didn’t mind; it was part of the thrill of coming up here to practice Quidditch. He wanted to get away from everyone at the Burrow. Fred and George wouldn’t stop screaming, Percy wouldn’t stop blathering on about quills and parchment, and Charlie just wouldn’t stop being so bloody clingy!
Bill mounted his broomstick, shooting up in to the air. It obeyed his every direction; a good broomstick. Free, at least, he thought, but that thought vanished when he heard a voice down below. “Bill! Wait! I’m coming, too!” Bill closed his eyes, grimacing. He sighed, looking down at his little brother running up the hill, broomstick in hand. Charlie wasn’t very good at flying yet. He was still wobbly when he rode his broomstick. He generally clung to the broomstick, as if it would throw him off.
Maybe if Bill stayed up in the air, refusing to come down, Charlie would get the message, and leave him the bloody hell alone. It seemed like it was working when Charlie nibbled his lower lip, glancing around, shuffling awkwardly from foot to foot. But, then, something in the boy seemed to strengthen. Charlie mounted his broom, shooting up in the air, quivering. Go home, Bill yelled in his head. But, no, Charlie had to come up after him. Merlin, he was wobbling something fierce.
He fell!
Without a thought, Bill leaned forward, hurtling towards Charlie like a train. Bill thrust his hand out, snagging Charlie’s wrist. “Learn to fly properly, Charlie!” Bill scolded. “I won’t always be around to save you!”
“I just wanted to fly like you,” Charlie whispered, dropping his gaze.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 297
Warnings: I labelled it PG because it contains "bloody" and "hell". They constitute as mild language.
Summary: Bill is interrupted when flying.
Ten-year-old Bill Weasley trudged his way up Stoatshead Hill, his Cleansweep Five clutched in his right hand. Bill’s hair whipped about in the wind, but Bill didn’t mind; it was part of the thrill of coming up here to practice Quidditch. He wanted to get away from everyone at the Burrow. Fred and George wouldn’t stop screaming, Percy wouldn’t stop blathering on about quills and parchment, and Charlie just wouldn’t stop being so bloody clingy!
Bill mounted his broomstick, shooting up in to the air. It obeyed his every direction; a good broomstick. Free, at least, he thought, but that thought vanished when he heard a voice down below. “Bill! Wait! I’m coming, too!” Bill closed his eyes, grimacing. He sighed, looking down at his little brother running up the hill, broomstick in hand. Charlie wasn’t very good at flying yet. He was still wobbly when he rode his broomstick. He generally clung to the broomstick, as if it would throw him off.
Maybe if Bill stayed up in the air, refusing to come down, Charlie would get the message, and leave him the bloody hell alone. It seemed like it was working when Charlie nibbled his lower lip, glancing around, shuffling awkwardly from foot to foot. But, then, something in the boy seemed to strengthen. Charlie mounted his broom, shooting up in the air, quivering. Go home, Bill yelled in his head. But, no, Charlie had to come up after him. Merlin, he was wobbling something fierce.
He fell!
Without a thought, Bill leaned forward, hurtling towards Charlie like a train. Bill thrust his hand out, snagging Charlie’s wrist. “Learn to fly properly, Charlie!” Bill scolded. “I won’t always be around to save you!”
“I just wanted to fly like you,” Charlie whispered, dropping his gaze.
I love Charlie and Bill! ;D
