Keeping a Nose to the Grindstone PV Calliope Maher-Schmidt closed

|| Interacting with nobody (yet…) || Mentioning @Jorah Moussa ||

The Gryffindor vs. Ravenclaw Quidditch match was in just about twenty-four hours, and Aly Salinger was wracked with nerves because of it. Sure, Ravenclaw had won the last game they'd played (against Slytherin), but Gryffindor was on a winning streak of six straight games- so anyone in their right mind would be terrified going up against such a powerhouse team.

Then again, Ravenclaw was quickly gaining a reputation for being broom-breakers (mostly thanks to Jorah and his uncanny ability to smash a broomstick to pieces, which would've scared the living daylights out of Aly if she weren't on the same team as him), and the curly-haired third-year herself had scored a stunning total of five goals last game. So perhaps her worries were unfounded, but only time would tell.

Aly, though, was not about to ride the coattails of her team's prior victory and just hope that their scheduled practices would be enough to carry them into a streak. Always one to take responsibility onto herself, she'd been skipping lunch all week to practice by her lonesome in the empty Training Pitch while everyone else was feasting in the Great Hall. Sure, it was a bit difficult to get real Keeper practice in when there were no Chasers to throw Quaffles at her, but she'd done some Chaser-esque things herself in her time as Ravenclaw's first-string Keeper, such as scoring those aforementioned goals... so she could get plenty of practice with dodging, weaving, backtracking, and, of course, Quaffle throws without anyone around to watch.

(Plus, it was a lot less embarrassing if she failed that way.)

With just under a day left and probably only an hour until she'd have to pack the Quaffle away and get to her next class (and not be able to fly until the actual match tomorrow), Aly didn't bother changing into her Quidditch uniform; she just retrieved her Silver Arrow from its storage and slung her satchel onto the stands. There was a slight wind chill, but the sun was beginning to peek through the morning's clouds, and luckily, no snow. She could not promise such excellent flying conditions for the match itself, so it was best to enjoy it now.

"All right, miss Aly," she murmured to herself, under her breath. "It's cold, but you can do this..."

Gripping the handle of her Silver Arrow tightly, Aly mounted and took to the skies, beginning to practice a basic weave throughout the chilly sky, unaware that she was no longer alone...