The Art of the Oop PV Claire Lewis Closed

Saturday
January 25th, 2025
Afternoon

Outfit: a black, gray, and blue long-sleeved flannel, khakis, and a pair of simple boots that reach halfway up her calves. Her hair is in a tight bun, and she's wearing a beanie to try and keep it in place.

Quidditch was the big topic on Claire's mind. It was a topic that had been seared into her brain from the moment she saw her birth-giver's name on the trophy in the trophy room during her first week at Hogwarts. What had begun as a searing blaze fueled with the desire to prove herself as superior to her mother had been tempered into a white hot flame, ready to blaze across the quidditch pitch as she found an appreciation for the sport outside of her loathing for her mother.

She still wanted to put the woman she'd never met into her place, but after seeing the Slytherin v. Ravenclaw game, she found that the sport itself was far more interesting than she'd ever found any muggle sports to be. After all, what was kicking a ball along a grassy field compared to soaring in the skies and dodging bludgers? Poppycock, that's what.

As was the case with most quidditch hopefuls, Claire's desire to learn and become worthy of the team had led her to the training pitch which, thankfully, didn't seem to be booked. Well, there wasn't an entire team soaring around, at any rate.

Instead, as she approached the pitch with a school broom in one hand and a balled up jumper - which she intended to use as a makeshift quaffle - in the other, there was one other witch flying above. It was one she would recognize from a mile away: @Aly Salinger.

Aly was the seeker for Ravenclaw. The seeker, being the most important role on the team, was one that left an impression on every quidditch fanatic, new and old. Even Claire knew the names of all four first string seekers: there was Aly, Dan, of course, for Slytherin, and though she'd yet to meet them, Gryffindor and Hufflepuff anointed Cox and Emrys to the honorable role.

But Aly was the one Claire thought of when she imagined the meaning of quidditch. Aly hadn't managed to catch the little golden snitch, that was true, but the showmanship and teamwork involved in a move known only as the 'alley-oop,' or as Claire had taken to calling it, the 'Aly-oop,' had gone a long way toward impressing Claire. In fact, she'd spent many hours in her dorm spinning about and tossing her pillows, just to practice angles and aiming in such an intriguing move.

Claire didn't see the snitch darting about on the pitch - she didn't have the eyes of a seeker - but she did see Aly's eyes closed. Was she meditating? Napping? Could the older quidditch students actually nap on their brooms? That was incredible.

But then, Aly's eyes opened and seemed to notice Claire.

Claire hadn't a clue what to do, so she shoved her balled-up jumper beneath the arm holding her broomstick and waved with her free hand.

"Hello!" she called out with a beaming smile. "Didn't mean to interrupt your practice!"

She paused briefly.

"Or your nap!"

OOC: while I didn't put as much work into it, since fashion isn't a strength of mine, I stole your idea for at least listing Claire's outfit!

Having been at Hogwarts for five and a half years now, Aly was quite comfortable in saying that most of the elder faces were familiar to her. Sure, a new crop of first-years popped up each September, though Aly usually didn't cross paths with many unless they related to her in some way - joining the Quidditch team, for instance, or fighting fairies in the commons. As such, she was fully expecting a face she recognised when she opened her eyes - most everyone who ever tackled the training pitch was an upperclassman, after all, doing exactly what she was - but the small, frail figure of a probable firstie greeted her instead.

The girl didn't seem particularly tall, but then again, neither was Aly - and, seeing as how the latter was floating on a broomstick yards above the ground, she wouldn't have been surprised if the kid turned out to be taller than her upon reaching the grassy pitch below. The slouchy hat and plaid-patterned shirt screamed Muggle culture, of which the sixth-year had grown particularly knowledgeable lately, so she assumed that she wasn't dealing with someone who had been raised in the magical world - half-blood or Muggle-born, then. And the blue suggested Ravenclaw, though perhaps that assumption was just borne out of the eagle's own wardrobe, which held much more of her House colours than scarlet, sunshine, or sage. But, as Aly floated down atop her broom and the girl called up to her with the bright grin of an unencumbered innocent, it became much clearer that her initial guess had been right. No second-year ever looked that happy anymore. Not at Hogwarts.

A surprised chuckle escaped her lips at the girl's nap comment as Aly's feet touched down, and she dismounted to find that she was, in fact, a bit more gifted in height than the first-year. What a relief - if one more eleven-year-old towers over me, I'm going to hex them. Once the thought had passed, Aly stuck her own broomstick underneath her arm, mirroring the girl's pose, and let her weight shift onto one leg as she studied her. "It's fine. I didn't book the pitch, just showed up," she admitted with a halfhearted shrug. "I can share, though, as long as you don't mind me chasing a Snitch around."

The realisation occurred to her, in that moment, that if the girl was a Ravenclaw, she wasn't on the Quidditch team. Aly knew each of the faces on the eagle squad quite well, having seen them multiple times just in the past month alone for rehearsal, and the pale, freckled visage in front of her didn't ring a bell in the slightest. She cocked her head to the side, raising an eyebrow at the kid. "Okay, so you don't look familiar," bluntness having been a recent personality development, but a strong one nevertheless. "New kid on one of the other House teams? Or a Ravenclaw hopeful?"

Either way, she stuck out her hand to shake - another Muggle greeting, but one that had made its way into wizarding culture, too. Aly had met so many abrasive, annoying first-years lately that a friendly one, perhaps even a funny one, was a welcome reprieve. "I'm Aly. Sixth-year and Ravenclaw first-string Seeker," she said, partially as a way of introduction and partially as a subtle brag. No matter how many times she played Seeker, the excited fans recognising her in the corridors would never get old. "And you are?"

Saturday
January 25th, 2025
Afternoon

Outfit: a black, gray, and blue long-sleeved flannel, khakis, and a pair of simple boots that reach halfway up her calves. Her hair is in a tight bun, and she's wearing a black beanie to try and keep it in place.

Aly was flying down. Toward Claire! And, if Claire wasn't mistaken, her eyes seemed to be sizing Claire up, or maybe just trying to figure out what this first year was doing on the pitch during her - likely intense - training session. Claire adjusted her flannel shirt self-consciously, tucking in a corner that had slipped out of her pants.

The offer to share the pitch was a relief. Even if Aly hadn't reserved it or anything, Claire was of the opinion that Aly certainly had more of a right to it than she did. After all, Aly was an actual quidditch player, and an older one at that. Claire was just there to develop her sky legs. Her wings? Was there an actual term for the flying equivalent of sea legs? She made a mental note to look it up later, if only to save herself the embarrassment of using the wrong term.

"I don't mind one bit," she said, trying not to sound too eager. Truth was, the thought of watching an actual skilled player with experience and talent radiating off of her in waves practicing was a privilege that Claire wouldn't take lightly. In fact, her own 'practice' - which would likely consist of practicing throwing her balled-up jumper through the hoops for an hour or two and trying to catch it before it hit the ground - would likely take a backseat as she watched Aly in action.

"I'm - I'm actually not in - not in Ravenclaw," she said, a rare stutter escaping her lips. She usually carried herself so well, carefully considering her words and speaking clearly to everyone, but talking to an upperclassman like this, and having their full attention, was almost... stressful? Scary? Embarrassing? She wasn't sure.

"I - I'm Claire Lewis. A first year in Slytherin, but - but I'd like to play quidditch if the team ever needs a player," she added, suddenly aware that maybe she was gripping Aly's hand just a bit too hard when she returned the handshake. Darned nerves...

"I know exactly who you are," Claire said eagerly as Aly introduced herself. "I was at that game last Autumn. I saw how close you were to grabbing the snitch. It was - it was inches away! I - I thought you were going to snatch it up, and that move you did with the chaser - Davies was his name, I think? - it was - it was incredible! I - I've been practicing something like it in my dorm at night ever since!"

She gushed in hushed whispers, as if afraid that gushing over an opposing team's quidditch performance was some form of sacrilege. As if the mere praise directed at the Ravenclaw seeker would somehow conjure up a group of Slytherins to punish her for her horrible transgression.

Her own admission to her nightly practice of spinning and tossing her pillow toward her bed to practice the 'Aly-oop' caused her to bite her lip and a faint blush to appear on her cheeks. Why had she said that? Now Aly was going to think she was just a stupid child, playing pretend.

The blue flannel was a red herring, then, as the girl from green danced down the yellow-brick road towards a Quidditch career. The first-year's admission of her House caused an involuntary flare of Aly's nostrils, a quick twitch downwards of the corner of her lip - it could be said that the sixth-year hadn't met many from the snake house whose company she'd actually enjoyed. Rather, much the opposite, save for a special few. And with the wound from the last snake-eagle match still quite fresh in her mind, for the briefest of moments Aly did consider just bidding the kid goodbye and taking back to the skies for a solo practice.

But wide blue eyes and a thirst for knowledge reminded Aly all too well of the eleven-year-old she had once been, so amazed and innocent, with the biggest problems in the world being making the sports team and passing her classes. She remembered how big even the third-years had seemed, with upperclassmanship seeming so very far away at the time, and though she wasn't the biggest or strongest or most physically impressive, Aly knew now she had age alone on her side. Was it this girl's fault that she had been Sorted to Slytherin, that her Housemates had a tendency to beat her own or at least trash-talk them to their very faces? No, not in the slightest, and Aly found herself warmed to the kid - Claire, she'd said - before she had even said much more than her House. Even if she did shake her hand just a bit too tightly.

The raving afterwards, though, definitely helped. Aly's grin brightened, then faded, then brightened again as Claire excitedly described the failure of an Alley-Oop - or, as Aly had called it since learning the move as an underclassman, the Aly-Oop. At least when she was involved. Admittedly, the sixth-year had practiced the move hundreds of times and even performed it twice in games - once as the launcher and once as the launched - but it just never quite seemed to work right when she really needed it to do so. For a move that had her name in it, you'd have thought that it would have succeeded for her more often. "Oh, yes. Uri's his name - Uri Davies, our second-string Chaser. Actually, I haven't seen him around in a bit," she reflected for a moment before turning her attention back to the first-year in front of her. "As for the move, it's called the Alley-Oop, though I usually spell it A-L-Y like my name. Bit of an inside joke with the Ravenclaw team." She chuckled, her lips upturning once more, as she raised an eyebrow at Claire. "You said you've been practicing it? In a dorm? What have you been throwing around - a cushion? A cat? Oh, Merlin, please tell me it's not a cat." She had tried it herself with her own Silver Siberian, Dauncey, but only once - it had become very clear that her favourite boy would claw out her eyes if she ever tried that with him ever again.

Her gaze fell to the balled-up jumper in the girl's hand, then the broomstick, and the dots connected in her mind like stars of a constellation. It wasn't uncommon for Quidditch sycophants or hopefuls to practice by themselves, whether to have something to brag about to their mates or simply to actually raise their chances of making their House team someday. Normally, one couldn't practice the Alley-Oop by themselves, but if Aly had a partner...

"You know, if you'd like to try it with a real human, we could practice together," she found herself offering before she'd even really thought it through. "I've got a Snitch to catch, and you'll get practice that's more than just throwing a jumper around. I can even go get the Quaffle out of one of the locker rooms if you want some Chaser or Keeper practice - I used to play those positions, too. My only requirement is that you don't go snitching to your House team about any of my trade secrets, yeah?" Aly stuck out her hand, the pinky extended for a swearing. "Promise?"

✰✰✰
It's a revolution...
OOC: Absolutely! I think that makes sense. There are plenty of things for Aly I didn't even begin to think of until someone else did and inspired me! And experiment away, now's the time to try new stuff
@Claire Lewis

Saturday
January 25th, 2025
Afternoon

Claire almost shrunk back at the short-lived reaction Aly showed to Claire's membership within Slytherin, but, whatever Aly thought of Slytherin, she was very talented at controlling her expression. The grin that followed was a huge relief to the junior snake, and so was the flow of the conversation as it shifted back to quidditch, and away from Slytherin.

"I don't even have a cat," Claire answered quickly, her tone defensive. The mere thought of using a living creature - especially a cat - for such practice made her palms sweat and her heart clench. "I - I was using all sorts of things, but mostly my pillow! I'd just - I'd spin about in the dormitories and toss my pillow toward my bed. It was mostly to practice aiming, you see."

The pink of Claire's cheeks burned a darker scarlet at the admission, and it made her all too aware of just how small and childish she probably looked with her balled-up jumper and school broom, especially next to a proper witch with her fancy broom and actual golden snitch darting about. Aly's gaze on her 'equipment' only made her blush deepen even more.

She almost didn't hear the offer Aly made. Her mind had been racing with ways to salvage her pride, and it took a few seconds for her to register the sixth-year's words. Staring at the eagle with wide, terrified eyes, she lifted her trembling hand and linked pinkies with Aly.

"P-promise," she stammered, wondering if she was dreaming. She never could have believed that she would get actual, hands-on practice with a professional - well, school-level, but in Claire's eyes, Aly might as well have been a professional - quidditch player. And the fact that she'd be not only allowed, but encouraged to toss Aly in an attempt to practice the famed Aly-oop? She felt like her heart would explode in her chest at any moment.

With shaky legs, Claire mounted her broom, tossing her old jumper aside and waiting for whatever instruction Aly had to offer.

Claire immediately answered, maybe a bit defensively, that she didn't even own a cat, and Aly grinned, feeling perhaps a smidgen sheepish. She hadn't meant to somehow insinuate that the first-year was committing acts of animal cruelty. "Okay, good. I can speak from experience - don't try it with a cat," she half-joked, half-warned as she leaned down to place her broom carefully on the ground. "Unless you're in the mood for scratches and hissing. Pillow's a great way to try it, though, I think I've done that myself. Wait here - I'll be right back."

The balled-up jumper had not been lost on her; it didn't seem that Claire was here for Seeker practice, and really, who started out wanting to play Seeker? Aly herself had been on the Quaffle track for almost five full years before making the switch to the Snitch. If the kid was willing to help Aly out with her practice - maybe unwillingly, but did that even matter? - then Aly was going to be nice and extend an olive branch. It did occur to her, as she jogged away from Claire and disappeared behind the stone walls surrounding the training pitch, that helping Claire now did mean that the younger girl could join the Slytherin team and absolutely dominate her in a future match... but Aly was no Seer, and she pushed away the thought as nothing more than that. A thought, no vision. Only time would tell, and if Claire did grow up to be a killer on the snake squad, that would only go to show Aly's talent as a teacher, now, wouldn't it?

She came to where she had stuck the borrowed box, with a Quaffle and a pair of Bludgers she'd nicked from the actual pitch. (They'd be returned later that afternoon - so what was the harm, really?) Aly had originally gotten them with the intention of practicing dodging Bludgers, so that no one could smack her out of the sky ever again, but now she ignored the two small iron balls that bulged at their restraints in favour of the red leather one, light and comfortable in her hand. Letting the box snap closed, Aly turned to return to the training pitch, jogging back onto the grassy field to find that Claire had already mounted her broom. She swapped the Quaffle for her broomstick, a beloved Oakshaft, and climbed atop it, pushing off into the air with all the ease and grace of a practiced player. "Brought that back so if you want to try it out, you can," she told the first-year, tilting her head towards the Quaffle on the ground. "Let's do an Alley Oop or two first, though, yeah? Here, let me find the Snitch, just a moment..."

She peered about the pitch, finally spotting a glint of gold by the wooden goalposts. It was easy when they weren't gold, too! Pointing a finger in the Snitch's direction, she called out, "There!" Glancing back over her shoulder at Claire, she gave the younger girl an impish grin. "Must move quick or it'll vanish. You want to spin me around, or should I do it to you? We can switch after, if you want to try the both of 'em."

Saturday
January 25th, 2025
Afternoon

Claire hardly noticed Aly jogging away. Her full attention at the moment was on not making a fool of herself on top of the wobbly school broom she'd borrowed, and it was a lot harder than it looked! She was trying to get onto the Slytherin quidditch team, yes, but even though it was late into the year, she was still only a first year, and all of her flying practice thus far had taken place in a heavily controlled environment: Flying Class. It was one thing to fly - possibly hundreds of feet from the ground - with faculty watching over each student. It was a whole different beast to be out here, with just herself and another student - talented though that student may be.

Her hands gripped the handle of the broom nervously and she was slow and meticulous with her posture. Her legs tightened around the back of the broom, offering some semblance of balance, but the broom was a little jerky with its movements. She hoped she would learn to fly as smoothly as the quidditch players some day. In her mind, she could still see the serene sight of Aly bobbing gently in the sky when she'd just arrived. She wanted that. That confidence.

Aly's return proved a welcome distraction for Claire, and, somehow, looking away from her broom almost seemed to steady it beneath her. She felt like she was bobbing a bit less, at least. Her eyes immediately honed in one the quaffle and lit up. It was on the ground, still, several feet away and below her, but this was the first time she'd seen one up close like this. It looked bigger than she'd expected, and it would definitely make a big difference in practicing with it instead of her old jumper.

"I'd love to, after tossing each other about a bit," Claire said, feeling a bit more confident in talking to Aly now that she was on a broom. Maybe the broom made her feel more like a colleague than a pestering little kid, but some of the nervousness from earlier had faded a bit.

Claire shook her head, focusing instead on Aly's movements, and the graceful way she took to the sky.

"Oh, God," Claire whispered, her eyes widening as she saw just how smooth that takeoff was. Every inch the fancy broom had moved had seemed so deliberate, so efficient, and so graceful. She could feel the envy for Aly's talent bubbling up inside her, and it motivated her to learn and practice even harder. "That was... that was amazing..."

Feeling emboldened, Claire followed Aly higher above the training pitch, and, though her stomach clenched at the height, and she could feel her entire body tensing up, she refused to back down.

Aly spotted the snitch faster than Claire could even try to get a good look for it. The girl must have been in Ravenclaw because of her eagle eyes. Claire's broom was drawn to Aly as if by a magnet, as if sensing Aly and Claire's intent.

"I didn't even see it at all," she murmured, squinting her eyes until she, at last, saw what might, possibly, have been a fleck of gold in the sky with them. How were seekers meant to find that little thing, especially when it was rainy and miserable like it was in the Fall game?

"Maybe I should - I should spin you. I only barely managed to see it after you'd already pointed it out," Claire said, trying to move with a sense of urgency before the snitch could disappear, as Aly had warned. She reached up with one hand, grasping her broom tightly with the other. She didn't know where to grab. Did she just grab Aly's hand?

"Do we just..?" she asked, her arm extended as she tried to figure out the actual mechanics of doing this move on a broom instead of in a dorm with a pillow.

Claire reached out her hand, and Aly reached out too to grab it; their palms clasped together, and once again Aly marvelled at how very small first-years were. Though she was not the biggest sixth-year herself, it was difficult to imagine that she had ever been that young, that innocent, that tiny. Still, despite her size, the firstie was surprisingly strong - maybe more so than Aly herself - and seemed to easily whirl the sixth-year Seeker around, proving that she had, in fact, done that practice with a pillow she'd claimed to have done. If Slytherin ever was lucky enough to pull the kid for their team, she'd be a great asset.

Claire let Aly off in the right direction, and Aly zoomed through the air at high speed towards the post by which she'd sighted the Snitch. Glittering gold and fluttering nervously around the wooden hoop, it wasn't hard to spot, and Aly reached out as she approached faster than she would have been able to on her own, stretching out her hand to grab it...

Reducio

Rolled for the Alley-Oop in bot channel. Snitch catch DC is 15 + lowest Seeker ACC (Claire's = 23. Aly is on an Oakshaft 79, so no disadvantage.



Success! Snitch caught!

Her fingers wrapped securely around the shiny golden ball, nimbly dodging its sharp wings and avoiding getting cut or shocked, and Aly nearly tumbled into the goalpost but managed to dodge at the last minute. Putting on the brakes, she turned to face Claire midair and held up the Snitch victoriously, leaning forward to speed the Oakshaft to return to where the first-year still floated after having finished the Aly-oop. "Got it!" she called out, pulling up next to the younger girl and reaching out her hand - fingers still clutched around the Snitch - to show her. "See, that's not so hard, is it? Actually, that might be the best Oop I've ever done. You've got talent, kid."

She would let the Snitch stay there, outstretched, for a few moments if Claire wanted to admire it; once it was clear that the awe had worn off, Aly would reach up and let the golden ball loose, where it darted away again with speed and agility. "I'm happy to switch roles and let you try it, now that you've seen it done, if you want," she offered, "or we can do some Chaser stuff since I got the Quaffle. Up to you, mate - I'm just thankful we pulled off the one! Whaddya want to do?"

Saturday
January 25th, 2025
Afternoon

Claire felt every bit the first year she was, feeling absolutely tiny as she felt Aly's hands close around hers. She'd signed up for the quidditch waitlist with an excitement at the idea of proving herself, but if she was dwarfed by the other players as much as she felt dwarfed by Aly, she didn't know if proving herself would go as swimmingly as she hoped it would.

But, as Matilda Wormwood had once sang, 'You mustn't let a little thing like little stop you.'

Claire's hand squeezed Aly's, perhaps a bit too tightly out of nervousness, and she began to spin, legs squeezing her rickety school broom as tightly as they could. She spun and spun and spun, already beginning to feel a bit dizzy, but she focused on the direction Aly had spotted the snitch in and, just when she felt the angle was right, she let go, watching with awe as Aly zipped through the sky toward the snitch...

...and the goalpost!

Oh, God, what had Claire done? She hadn't just murdered the Ravenclaw seeker, had she? Claire watched in horror, both hands gripping her broom so tightly she was sure a non-magical broom would have broken. Her breath caught in her throat, and her broom steadied as she focused intensely on Aly's trajectory.

The goalpost was getting closer, and closer, and Claire almost missed Aly's hand grabbing the snitch with a practiced expertise. Claire sighed in relief as Aly expertly swerved and dodged the goalpost in a show of flying that Claire had never seen in her first year flying classes.

Claire let out a soft laugh of relief and excitement as Aly flew back to her, the snitch clearly visible in her palm. Aly's compliment made Claire's cheeks burn with embarrassment, despite the cold wind whipping around them so high up.

"I - I only spun," Claire sputtered, unable to accept the praise. "The - the way you dodged the goalpost, and you were going so fast... yet - yet your hand still grabbed the snitch like it had a mind of its own! It was brilliant!"

Claire watched the snitch dart away as Aly released it. Her eyes tried to follow it, but she lost it nearly instantly.

"I think I'd have to be a fool not to at least try it, right?" Claire asked, feeling even more nervous at the thought of being thrown at such a high speed at a small, golden ball that she, even now, couldn't see clearly. But, still, she would never be good enough for the Slytherin team if she didn't have the courage to at least attempt new quidditch moves, so she took a deep breath and extended her hand again as her eyes shifted over the rest of the pitch, searching for that illusive snitch.

"Tally-ho?" she asked, swallowing a mouthful of saliva and, hopefully, her nerves.