Charlie ran his fingers through his hair, a little self conscious about it now. But he liked it, so he was keeping it no matter how Molly might complain. "That's exactly what I said!" Charlie agreed and turned toward the little shabby broom shed, "Come on, let's practice a little shall we? I'm desperate to get on a broom, feel like I haven't flown for months."
He unbolted the door and pulled out one of their childhood brooms. After wiping a few cobwebs off the bristles he sized up the old stick, wondering if it would still get off the ground. "I hear you're almost as good as I was as seeker," he teased, knowing there was a good chance she was better. Ginny had the zeal of a great player, someone who didn't doubt her choices and pushed herself, "If it's true Gryffindor'll be guaranteed the cup this year."