Actions

Work Header

That Team Gryffindor Spirit

Work Text:

Katie's running through the courtyard when she lays eyes on a face that's not been familiar for some time. Angelina.

Angelina notices her not a second too soon, and somehow they manage not to meet with clanging and awkwardness as they collide into each other's arms and find a way to inch away from the heat of the action.

"You came back," Angelina murmurs, her distinct earthy, lavender-touched scent seeping comfort into Katie.

"It's our battle. Of course I came back."

They're hugging so tightly they might burst or fuse together or something equally spell-driven, but they don't break apart at all until another body wedges itself between them.

Alicia.

"Hello, team. Looks we've got one hell of a match ahead of ourselves."

"That we do," the two agree. Angelina pulls a bag from her pocket, and they all step back slightly, giving their arms and lungs some needed rest.

"I've got more'n enough brooms for an entire team. Fred and George let me steal into the broom shed at their place, too."

"Molly's goin' to curse you," Alicia gasps, but Angelina chuckles.

"Not the Burrow. Fred and George's own place."

"Why would they..." Katie starts, and stops herself. "No, actually, I'm not at all surprised they have their own broom shed at their flat."

"Yeah, me neither," Alicia sighs. "But what are we going to do with them? We can't properly fly as a team, can we?"

Angelina gives her a telling look.

"Well, Oliver's here, so tell me how much a team we lot look like now. Course our manlier stars have to steal off, you know, being specially targeted, but-"

"You didn't just say that," comes Oliver's voice from behind her, and the trio pulls him into a group hug.

"There are Death Eaters coming after us, You-Know-Who'll be here by nightfall, and you're worried I'm not referring to you and the Twins as manly?"

Oliver knows better than to argue, so he hands over what basic flight sequence he's been able to come up since Katie'd seen him an hour ago, and then bids the women adieu. They link themselves by their elbows, and look over it, readying themselves for battle.