Be Brave, Little Badger PV Alma Stoll

"Oh, yeah, he's just the best," George said, happy to talk up Quinn any day of the week, but especially when it was to help the little badger settle in to the team she had been forcibly assigned to. He took another chunk of a bite from the apple as he watched the realization dawn on Alma's face, laughing with his mouth full and showing off his broadest grin as he chewed apple in the back of his mouth. "Oh, I'm afraid I did get you! On the list! As second-string chaser!"

Helping out the house was always such a joy, even if it did mean that some sacrifices had to be made. For instance, Alma would need to exit her comfort zone, and likely end up breaking a few bones in the process. But while lessons taught in the classrooms were good for many things, George had always believed that it was trips to the hospital wing that really built character.

When asked how she was going to play Quidditch, George shrugged helplessly, wanting to see her squirm a little bit more before he really let her in on the plan. She hadn't given an outright no, so he had a good feeling that this would work. She really did work just like Jake. "Of course you can fly, you're a witch," George said simply. "As for how you'll play... I dunno, just shove the quaffle through the rings, grab the snitch, Bob's your uncle."

George's pep-talk was punctuated with another juicy bite of apple, the boy cronching loudly on it as he considered what to say next to her. He'd never played a game of quidditch in his life, but he had flown a broom, and had done so considerably better than some of his peers to earn his place as captain of the broom racing team. Sure, maybe some better flyers hadn't taken the position due to their competing obligations, but it was much more flattering to believe that he was simply the best.

"Have you got time to practice flying with me today? I can get ahold of some brooms for us to practice with, and I don't think the pitch is reserved," he whispered back to her, enjoying the quiet exchange over the table. He finally set his apple down and focused on her entirely, nodding as though she was already in the process of accepting his offer. "It's easier than you'd think, I promise. I'll run you through some of the basics, do some maneuvering drills, and you'll dazzle them all with your performance. It's a cinch. Big Quinn'll be so sad if you back out, I've already given you my personal recommendation and everything!"

Complete lie. George thought it might appeal to her Hufflepuff sweetness if backing out would make somebody sad. "It'll be fun!"

@Alma Stoll

"Bit funny," George said defensively, leaning back with a frown as he saw that Alma wasn't quite as open to the idea as he'd hoped. That was fine. She looked quite fussy as she hid her face in her arms, seeing a bit of the red around her ears. He held his apple out a bit from his face to compare the shade, looking down at her.

He gave her a little wave as if she had just reappeared again when she rose from the table. "Okay, well, you're a first-year, so you're basically in grade school," George retorted, rolling his eyes. He'd broken several bones in grade school and healed by muggle methods, which was a lot slower and more painful than just chugging some skelegro and getting the nurse to wave his wand at you a few times. Quidditch players might not be the brightest bunch, but nobody had died playing the sport at Hogwarts that he was aware of. "You're not going to break anything, Alma, it's school quidditch, not the world cup. Don't be such a drama queen."

While he hadn't personally recommended her to Quinn, putting her name on the list was, in a way, a personal recommendation. It just wasn't a public declaration. But surely the fact he'd picked her out of all the others was enough to get her to go on, just for him? Even though it had just been because she'd admitted to being afraid of sports.

"Oh, I'm sure the team would appreciate the high regard you hold them in, Alma," he said, nibbling at a bit of the apple's peel between words. He chewed more respectfully, quiet and with his mouth shut, before swallowing and speaking again. "But I'm pretty sure as long as we can get you flying straight you can be the second-string chaser."

George shook his head as she explained to him that there were better options for this. Unfortunately not the case, judging by the lack of sign-ups on the sheet before George started putting down the names of random eleven year old girls he barely knew. "Well you aren't going to get seriously injured, Alma, the worst thing that happens is you get bludgered a little bit, and that's never hurt anybody!"

It definitely had. Still, he pressed on. "Relax. Okay, we'll go practice flying, and you'll feel way better about it once you get a little practice. Plus, it's a great excuse to get your own broom, which is awesome. The school brooms are rubbish - I doubt a bludger would even be able to catch you if you had a proper broom," he said, talking her up despite never having seen her performance. Of course, if she was able to cast a spell, she was able to use a broom. In George's mind that made her as good of a quidditch player as any he could imagine.

"If there really are better options they'll take you off the team. Don't you want to find out? What if you're destined to be next star chaser for the Holyhead Harpies or something?" he asked, with a hopeful twinkle in his eye. Shining with the hope that this would not be a total disaster... and that maybe, even something good could come of it. The genuine words of encouragement that he said next were probably the kindest thing he'd ever said to another student. "I never thought I'd be any good at broom racing but now I'm the team captain. You can do it!"

"Kicked a football once. Nightmare," George said solemnly, with a haunted look in his eyes. He'd never really had the attitude required for team sports at a young age - it had taken until he was a teenager when he decided that he was desperate enough for friends that he should captain a sport. At least then there would be four people who had to at least pretend to like him. "But this is way more fun than any muggle sport you've ever seen. Plus - quidditch players are cool. Mostly..."

Seekers were a bit twiggy, but that could be overlooked. Was she being a drama queen? "Surely," he said. But in fairness, he'd opened her morning with a bit of dramatic news before she could even have her toast and eggs.

He was making a lot of big promises to Alma. He'd train her to fly well, maybe she'd be a star player one day... while George was never that much of an optimist, it sure paid to play the part. With a new broom and a little luck, she might be passable. "Yes! Really, it's a wonder they still let us fly on them... you'd think they would update the inventory, but I swear some of those things are from like, the nineties..."

Clearly, the Harpy talk had struck a chord with Alma. It was no wonder - an all-lady quidditch team had to be inspiring for any young girl who had recently been forced to become an aspiring quidditch player. Even George had to admit that they were the most stylish of all the teams in the British league.

"Of course! I'll visit you and you'll get some free sweets for your trouble," George said. Sweetening the deal with candy was always an effective persuasive technique. "And you can blame it on me when you tell your parents, not that they'll actually know who I am. Hopefully, at least..."

Well, that was an easier matter to settle than he had anticipated. George went back to quietly munching his apple as he settled back in his seat, looking back up the table toward his friends that were more his age. Was it rude to drop that on Alma and then run away? Probably... but George still rose from his seat, giving her a big thumbs up. "Eat a good breakfast, you'll need your energy!"

He will leave shortly after to return to his friends, unless Alma wants to stop him! Otherwise, all done.