He wanted to cup her face in his hand, to kiss her, to do anything that would allow him to communicate in the way he knew best, especially in this situation where words were incredibly difficult to find. The last few months had been empty—no deep conversations at breakfast, no brushing hands as they walked in the corridors, no studying sessions in the far-off corners of the library where they could sit a little closer without anyone noticing. He missed that sort of closeness, even if he wasn't sure how to vocalize it without feeling silly.

"Of course everyone would try to talk you out of it. You're a good seeker," he said, passing her a look that dared her to question his assessment. She might not have been a star seeker this term, but no team won year after year. The only reason he'd been doing well was because, unlike Ned and Lester, who had both been studying hard for their OWLs, he'd been trying to avoid the subject whenever possible. He reached forward and grabbed a stray strand of hair, giving it a little tug in a signature Cam-like fashion. "And even if it wasn't a great season, there will be plenty more. Don't tell me you've forgotten the early years." He managed a grin for the first time in the conversation. When they'd joined the quidditch team, nearly their entire team had been comprised of second and third years, which made it difficult to outperform the comparatively older teams. Now it was their turn to be the older team.

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