The Predicament of Brooms and Galleons PV Maisie Gemmell Complete

In many ways, Maisie felt bad as she watched Avis peer into the shop window. Wanting something out of reach was a feeling she knew well enough when her mum didn't have enough clients or when the newspapers didn't buy dad's stories. So, she recognised the longing in her best friend's eyes as they approached Quality Quidditch Supplies. Despite this, she was determined to have a great morning together before they parted for the holidays. Over the course of the term, they'd been inseparable and it would be hard to be apart.

"Should we go in? I want to see if they've got any of the newer Comets."

"Yeah, let's go," she eagerly agreed. Reaching for Avis's hand, she pushed the door open so they could enter. The store was busy as you might expect considering how every close they were to Christmas and the holidays. Maisie had to squeeze through the crowd, grateful for her short stature, and the various decorations and baubles before they could get up close to some of the brooms. The most popular ones were the most crowded, but even a more affordable Comet had people excited to gaze upon the wood and imagine what it would be like to feel the wind in their hair as it carried them up into the skies.

Maisie pushed and ducked her way until they were in front of the Comet 140, 180, and 260. In front of each was a little plaque that had a blurb on each style and some of the key features. These were older models, but they still did the job. "Which do you think you want?" she asked Avis, even though she had a feeling newer would be superior, but that wasn't necessarily true. Her own broom had been a hand-me-down from her mothers' side and had held up just fine so far, granted it was a sought after style.

With a light smile, Maisie hoped that one day Avis' mother could make a great dress—or whatever the equivalent was in her profession—just one, and that would be enough to get Avis a great broom that'd last her a long time.

For @Avis Greymond

Avis bit her lip as the two browsed over the different Comets in front of them. She smiled at Maisie’s question.

“This might sound dumb but I’ve always wanted a 260 because my dad had one when he was at school. Will crashed it years ago though, bloody idiot. Still, I loved that old thing,” she sighed, gazing up at the 260 and reminiscing a bit. Da used to take her on joy rides when she was really little and those rides remained as some of her best childhood memories. “What’s your-“ Avis started but caught her breath as her attention flew out the window.

A broom in the center of the room, showcased in a glass box adorned with Christmas lights caught her gaze and her eyebrows shot up when she realized what it was.

“Merlin’s Beard, Maisie, look, they’ve got a Firebolt in store!” she cried and began shoving her way past people to get closer.

After a few angry exclamations and hurried apologies, Avis found herself at the display case, practically drooling over the intricately but sturdily made broom in the center. She tried to ignore the price tag hanging from the broom handle and instead, began listing off famous players who’d owned the broom on the world stage Quidditch pitch.

“O’Hare, Connolly, Moran, Troy, Krum,” she muttered to herself, mostly listing off players from her favorite team of all time: the ‘94 Irish National Team. Krum deserved an honorable mention, she supposed. “Maisie, could you imagine owning this work of art?” Avis squeaked, turning to locate her friend.

It didn't sound dumb. It didn't sound dumb at all. There were plenty of mundane items Maisie had in her possession that reminded her of home or of family. In fact, it had been a kind of hallmark of her childhood that she should recognize and remember both sides, always.

She passed Avis a smile.

But the moment of peace seemed to pass quickly as they realized there was an object of Quidditch history right here, in this very store: the Firebolt. Maisie followed after Avis as best she could, ducking under the crowd, until they stood there in front of it. No, in front of the most legendary thing they'd ever seen. "Whoa," she let out as she took every wooden fiber, drenched in the display lights. Somehow, the Christmas and holiday baubles only seemed to make it shimmer more.

“Maisie, could you imagine owning this work of art?”

"Owning?" she asked rhetorically, "Trying flying? Flying like Viktor Krum?" In that heartbeat of a second, she imagined what it might be like to really fly—to be that cool. Sure, there'd been the little unofficial scrimmage she'd been in, but that seemed like nothing compared to what a real Quidditch player could do.

And that was when it occurred to her: "Maybe we could see one in action. I could ask my mum to take us." She strategically left out the part about how excursions like that often depended on how her parents' clients were going. Maisie didn't particularly want to talk about economics.

Looking around the shop for a moment, she suggested, "They've got to have a match schedule around here somewhere." The walls were cluttered, but something like that had to be around, surely. After all, maybe there weren't just explorers, but researchers in Quidditch too.

@Avis Greymond

"I don't think I could even imagine flying that thing," Avis whispered in awe as the two girls stood admiring the work of art in front of them. The fastest broom she'd been on was Da's Comet, although Will's modified BlueBottle definitely had its moments albeit nerve wracking ones, so Avis couldn't even begin to think about how flying a Firebolt would feel. Maisie lit up suddenly beside her as if an idea had just popped into her head.

"Maybe we could see one in action. I could ask my mum to take us," she mentioned casually, as if that news wasn't the greatest Avis had heard in her short life. She spun to her left to clutch her friend's slim shoulders in both her hands, her eyes bright with excitement.

"Tell me you're not joking. Maisie, that would be absolutely brilliant!" she exclaimed," We've got to find a schedule!"

Her best friend glanced around the shop before suggesting there might be one there and Avis followed suit, scanning the walls before her eyes landed on a flustered employee trying to keep some younger kids from picking the lock on a snitch displayed in the corner. Avis nudged her friend and pointed in the employee's direction.

"He's bound to know, right?" she stated, studying the young man now desperately trying to shake one of the kids off his leg and holding back the two others from the infamous Quidditch ball.

It would be great—that much, she could imagine. The details of flying on a profoundly powerful broomstick like that she could take or leave, but the wonder would always be there. In fact, that was a great way to capture the energy of this whole store at the holiday season: full of wonder.

It was easy to get caught up in the moment—until Avis raised her voice. And Maisie realized the gravity of what she'd suggested, but she was still hopeful. "Well, we might have to wait til Mum's dressed some more prominent artists, but I can try!" The hope in her voice hung in the air as she watched Avis follow her lead in pursuit of a match calendar. A couple great dresses or one great story was all they'd need, and the girls could be on their way.

Soon enough, the first puzzle piece came into view: an employee. The young man seemed to have his hands full with younger students, but he was the closest. And surely, answering a question about a schedule would take five seconds compared to the effort of making sure none of the balls fell into the hands of younglings. "He should do," she agreed with Avis before making her approach.

"Excuse me," she said with a gentle wave to get his attention, "Do you happen to have the match schedule somewhere in the store?" He seemed very frenetic and so, he turned his head sharply with wide eyes before registering her question. Maisie repeated the word 'schedule' rhetorically before he explained, "On the wall, by the register over there." Nodding, she thanked him and reached again for Avis' hand and setting off in the direction of the wall he described.

Maneuvering through the crowd remained difficult but eventually she was able to snag a copy off the wall—two actually. She passed Avis the paper. "Okay, so, who'd you want to see?"

@Avis Greymond

Avis followed Maisie closely across the store to the register, gripping her hand tightly as they shoved past the crowd. Throughout the numerous times Avis had been in Quality Quidditch, she couldn't recall a time it had been more crowded than this, but she supposed this was her first time in the store during the holiday season.

Finally, after squeezing by a stand filled with Chudley Cannon t-shirts (ugh), the two girls stood in front of the flyer-covered wall and Maisie reached out to snag two copies of the schedule for that year off the wall. Avis took the paper from her friend's outstretched hand and glazed over the team names, looking for a specific one. As she spotted the name, Avis glanced over quickly at Maisie, realizing she had no idea which team she supported. What if their teams were rivals? Could they possibly continue to be friends if they were? Avis wrinkled her nose and continued to scan her schedule. What a silly thought.

She held out her paper to Maisie and pointed at the name printed onto the page. The Kenmare Kestrels. She grinned.

"Always been a Kestrels fan. I would die to see another match. Last time I went was with Da when I was four," she said eagerly. "Who's your team?"

Avis bit her lip, nervously waiting to see what her friend would say. As long as she wasn't a Magpies fan, they might be able to still get along.

Her eyes ran across the paper eagerly. Hopefully too, knowing that maybe, just maybe, if everything worked out at home she would be able to keep that promise to Avis. She really wanted to, but she tried not to let the uncertainty show as they looked around the shop.

Avis' question cut across the air with ease, putting any future concerns to one side of her mind. It was no surprise that Avis was a passionate Quidditch fan or that she was a Kestrals supporter. Maisie enjoyed Quidditch, but she knew she wasn't quite as hardcore a fan as her best friend. Still, she proudly chirped, "Portree." She'd never been to Skye, but there were only two Scottish teams: one on the East and one on the West. And Glasgow was on the West. So, it made for some pretty easy math.

And it was easy listening too to hear Avis talk about her match with her parents with glee. Nothing quite got Avis as excited as Quidditch. "We have to go," Maisie squealed, "I'll save up my galleons." The eleven year old did not realize saving her allowance would probably amount to years of time waiting, but she didn't care. In the name of friendship, she'd try.

"There," she pointed on the schedule, "They're playing together in the spring." A smile grew on her face. A lofty, but worthy goal.

@Avis Greymond

"Ok, I can get behind that. I like the McCormacks," Avis stated in response to her friend's team. She couldn't expect a Scot to be a Kestrels fan anyway, and the McCormack legacy was pretty famous amongst the British and Irish Quidditch League, so she'd always had some respect for Portree.

"We have to go. I'll save up my galleons," Maisie was saying and Avis grinned.

"Right, me too then. I'll ask Will to cough some up for us. He owes me anyway," she said with a mischievous look. Secretly, Avis hoped Maisie's mum would have a breakthrough dress design, but she supposed they would have to wait and see. She leaned in closer to the schedule as Maisie pointed at a specific date written out on the parchment. "Wicked! We can both see our teams play at the same time! We have to go," Avis said eagerly, jumping up and down a little in her excitement. She was itching to go watch a live Quidditch match. Her fuzzy 4 year old memories weren't quite enough to sustain her longing to watch a real match and not just her brother and his friends mucking about.

Tearing the schedule off the wall, she shoved it into her pocket and glanced quickly at the time. The hour of departure was growing closer and Avis looked back at her friend, a pang of sadness shooting through her. An idea entered her head.

"C'mon, I think we have some time to make it to Fortescue's before I have to leave!" she said and started making her way back through the crowd towards the street, ready for a hot chocolate with her best friend before the long journey home.