No Autographs, Please PV Galahad Damaris 𝙲𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍

Dear @Galahad Damaris,

January 16, 2022

xxxxxxxxQuidditch. The quintessential sport that so perfectly highlighted all the ups and downs of the wizarding world. Despite the unfortunate weather of the day, the freezing chill that had set into Maggie's bones and seeped deeper than the skin, through her leather gloves, through the protective armor of the Quidditch uniform, she was happy. As she trudged through the snow, reaching up with an arm to wipe the sleet from her nose where it was turning the appendage to a popsicle, Maggie was forced to wonder how she'd made it here.

At her old school, her muggle school, Maggie had been so completely removed from popularity. Not that she was popular now, because no, she wasn't, but she wasn't completely irrelevant. Playing on a sports team was huge. Massive, even. Hogwarts really took their teams seriously. Between Quidditch and Broom Racing and Dueling, every single member was valuable. It was sobering. Wonderful, to feel so important.

And sure, one might point fingers at the fact that Maggie Hawkins thrived off of attention, really and genuinely, but the sound of the crowd cheering when she caught a teammate or scored a goal was the best feeling in the entire world. Even the screams of Hufflepuff when she was sentenced to a penalty lap were wonderful. Any attention was good attention.

Their win? The way they crushed Hufflepuff beneath their heels? It felt like a million dollars. Plus tips.

Of course, it was a little bit more unfortunate that the extent of Maggie's 'spotlight' was spent shared with others, as she wound up with people sharing her broomstick more often than not (mostly Cash Ironwoods), but it could be forgiven.

The leather boots worn in tandem with the uniform trudged through the snow, and Maggie dragged them through, watching long divets be dug into the snow, watching her footfalls press prints into the powdery substance. Her broom--Silver Arrow, top of the line--was held aloft beside her head, the tinder tail of it making periodic drag marks through the snow.

Dreary as the weather was, Maggie thought it was an awful nice day.