The match was over, but the air still crackled with adrenaline. You should’ve been celebrating with your teammates, enjoying the victory. Instead, your attention was locked on Ginny.

She had been watching you since the whistle blew.

And then... she started moving.

The intensity she exuded pulled at the air around her, and for a fleeting moment, you considered slipping back into the safety of your teammates’ group. But that wasn’t you, and if you backed down now, she’d never let you forget it.

So you held your ground.

She cut straight through the celebration, scattering your teammates with nothing more than the sheer force of her glare, until it was just the two of you.

“You think you’re clever?” she spat. “That last move - showing off like that - humiliating me in front of everyone?”

You tilted your chin. “Didn’t need to humiliate you. You did that all on your own.”

Her nostrils flared, her jaw tightening like she was holding herself back from saying something reckless.

“You always do this,” Ginny whispered. “Always push me. Always find a way to get under my skin.”

“Maybe you’re just easy to get to.” You smirked, though your pulse was racing, betraying you.

She smirked. “Or maybe you’re the one who can’t leave me alone.”

You blinked, taken aback for a moment. The spark in her eyes told you that she had noticed, and she only pressed in closer. “You’re arrogant,” she continued. “You’re reckless, insufferable... Merlin, half the time I can’t stand the sight of you.”

“And yet…” you murmured, “you can’t seem to stay away.”

For the briefest moment, her lips twitched as if she wanted to smile, but then she hated herself for it. Her eyes flickered down to your mouth once before snapping back up.

“You drive me mad,” she whispered, her voice trembling with something that was no longer just anger. “Do you know that? You drive me absolutely mad.”

You swallowed hard. “Good,” you breathed. “Maybe that’s the point.”

“You’re impossible,” she murmured. “You’re everything I should hate. And yet-”

Her words caught in her throat and you saw it. “And yet I don’t,” she finished, her voice quiet. “Not even close.”

Before you could reply or process the weight of her admission, she took a step back. “Enjoy your win,” she said. “Just don’t forget... next time, you’re mine.”