Chasing the Chaser - Molly and Arthur

10

"Sorry," she said, not easing her pressure at all. "The hospital matrons gave us captains some training in therapeutic sports spells. They're all done by hand, so bear with me for one – moment – more – "

There was a surge of heat, a loud snap, and Arthur cried out, a sound of surprise and intense relief.

She let go of his shoulder and tried to catch his shout, her hand over his mouth, hushing and laughing. "Quiet," she giggled. "If anyone's still around to hear that, they're going to think I'm taking advantage of you."

Arthur took her wrist and kept her hand pressed to his lips. His other arm encircled her waist and drew her close. When he was sitting on the bench and she was standing between his knees, they were comfortably almost face to face.

"Is it feeling any better, or did I break something completely?" she said, brushing her nose against his from above, not quite kissing him.

"Doesn't hurt a bit anymore," he said, his eyes already closed as she finally sealed her lips to his. There was something especially invigorating about post-quidditch snogs. Maybe it was the breaking of the tension built watching each other so closely, sensing each other's movements and heightened feelings, but never touching all through the game. Or maybe it was something more basic, like all the pheromones on each other's skin and clothes after physical exertion. Or maybe it was just thrilling to be so tired, but then to find a hidden cache of energy for each other at the end of it all, and to realize there was real power in their feelings, with a life of its own.

Whatever it was, Molly was standing on one leg, her other knee bent and resting on the bench beside Arthur as she leaned into him, his hand in the small of her back pushing her close. She cradled his head in her arms, her fingers in his hair as he kissed her. They'd been together for several weeks and already he was wondering how much longer he could stand having anything coming between them. He remember her skin from that afternoon in the car too well. He craved getting that close to her again - and closer - but was still too shy to say anything about it.

Her hands trailed out of his hair, down the sides of his neck, and out over his shoulders before moving across his chest. All the pushups Angelo insisted they do to stay in top beater form had done wonders for Arthur. Tall, strong, sweet, lovely Arthur whose mouth tasted like her own now, and who she never wanted out of her sight.

But as her hands moved back to his shoulders Arthur broke away to speak, as if he'd just remembered something important. "Therapeutic sports spells – you don't do them for anyone else, do you?"

She leaned back into their broken kiss. "I would if I had to. It's my responsibility to the team. That's why the school had me trained."

She found his mouth again and shook apart his resolve to keep talking as he kissed her in return. But then he remembered what he was saying. "Teach me the spells then. I'll do them so you won't have to. At least not on the big fit blokes."

There was a click as her mouth came off his neck. "Don't tell me you're jealous of me touching our teammates like I touched you just now."

Arthur blinked up at her face. "Of course I am. You're the best witch in school. I mean," Arthur gestured at the length of her, from head to foot. "Look at you. Athlete, leader, gifted healer, stunner. How could I not be jealous of – all sorts of things?"

She sighed loudly, tousling his hair. "That is very sweet of you to say. And also barmy."

Arthur jostled her in his arms. "Don't try to argue it with me after I've already been over half the country retrieving you from a failed attempt to carry you off."

She dropped her knee from the bench, standing back but letting his arms stay closed around her waist. "Oh, I see," she said. "This isn't so much about being jealous of our team as it is about the opposing team's captain."