Death of a Dream PV

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──────────────────────────────── 𝑵𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑹𝑬𝑵𝑫𝑰𝑵𝑮 ✰ When Aodhan attended tryouts for the Gryffindor quidditch team last year, he'd done so with dreams of grandeur. Of accolades, respect, his praises dancing with the wind, the bubbling hatred of his opponents, and most of all, the knowledge that his existence weighed upon everyone's mind. He wished to be something excellent and undeniable, as large as the sun above. None of this was turning out to be true. Instead, he found himself getting battered and bruised like some overgrown punching doll, because even though he finally, finally spotted the golden ticket to victory in their last match, he was taken out of the sky so quickly that he could barely differentiate left from right. Disgraceful. Embarrassing. Humiliating. Self-doubt had even wormed its way in temporarily, forcing him to question his aptitude for the sport. But if there was one thing he refused to do, it was mope around. So of course he went out of his way to have fun with the other kids in his year, some who knew of him, and some who would be forced to whether they liked it or not. Neither group really wished to have his company, but that didn’t matter; they made for great distractions when they were annoyed incessantly. That is, until one of the chasers on his team accosted him out of the blue. Aodhan knew of Harlan Montgomery, just enough to understand the guy was older, in possession of a keener eye, and convincing enough to rope him into some arbitrary training session. Well, perhaps convincing wasn't the right term. Maybe... careful enough to time the encounter so perfectly that if the younger boy had said no, he'd seem like an absolute lame ass in the face of his peers, considering just how popular the sport was. He was trying to make a name for himself, after all. What would other people think, watching him turn down an opportunity to improve his skills and bring their house first place? It was equivalent to social suicide (it was not, and his twelve-year-old brain was exaggerating). Of course he had to accept! (He really didn't, considering his reputation wasn't grand to begin with.) He just... didn't understand why it had to be so early in the morning. Okay, there was a chance it wasn't truly that early and he was just complaining. Regardless, the youth found himself yawning with bleary eyes, walking towards training pitch with his broom snug in his grasp. Once he reached, he could easily spot Harlan. Not so much the peculiar objects that had already been released into the open air. He could only nod imperceptibly at the positive acknowledgement, the older lion's words entering his brain but not properly taking root. "Look, based on our last game, I think our team could use some extra practices and you're the first go at it, glory seeker." Sure. Whatever. "I decided to set up a little training for us here. There's five snitches that I've released within the Pitch. You have to find them all, seems easy enough, right?" That was okay—wait, five? He said five? Nevermind, that wasn't okay. Half the time, he struggled to even notice the one in their official matches. At least, not before their seasoned opponents did. What was this guy on about, having him locate five? "Except, I'll give you a minute head start before I come in and I'm going to attempt to blatch you." "... Huh?" he questioned with utmost intelligence, wondering if he was hearing correctly, or if his upperclassman was just crazy. And then the other kept going, talking about Aodhan being a high priority target which, well, that was true. It was what everyone signed up for when it came to being a seeker, yeah, but this was certainly levels more brutal than their usual training sessions. Therefore, upon being prompted for inquiries, he instantly raised his hand. Childish, as he was still an obnoxious child. "Yeah, I got one. Do you hate me or something?" Wait! On second thought, that came off a bit too strong. It sounded like he was complaining, which was definitely loser behavior, and Aodhan was not trying to be a loser. He dropped his hand and tried again. "Uh, scratch that. I didn't mean that." He was very much lying, because he certainly did mean it in the moment. The boy took a moment to breathe deeply, in and out, while slowly closing and opening his eyes. He was still feeling very groggy, and the entire thing was sudden, even for him and his usual hyperactive tendencies. "Look, I'm gonna do it, cause I want to get better and make us win—" he lied again, since he never cared much for winning compared to stealing the show "—but can't I get something to motivate me? Like a reward if I complete your bootcamp thing?" There wasn't anything he genuinely wanted in a material sense, as the wanderings of his mind tended to satisfy him. Or, at least, nothing that wasn't muggle-related and prone to exploding when in contact with magic. However, this was still an opportunity to hold onto, and maybe he desired compensation for waking up at (what felt like) the ass crack of dawn. ✰ 𝑵𝑶𝑻 𝑶𝑹𝑫𝑰𝑵𝑨𝑹𝒀 ────────────────────────────────

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