A nice day outside for a pickup game
Madeline was out walking around the grounds enjoying a warm sunny afternoon. She decided that she would take a break from her studying and take a walk to keep her legs and arms limber. Not planning where she was going, she found herself out by the Quidditch pitch. To her surprise there were a handful of students - some that she recognized and some she did not - on their brooms playing a friendly, and raucous, game of Quidditch. Just as she walked up she heard a loud “thud” and looked up to see a brown haired boy fall to the ground and off of his broom. Thankfully he had not been very high off the ground when the Bludger found its mark.
The rest of the students rushed over to him and began poking and prodding him, asking him all sorts of questions to make sure that he was uninjured, or to find out if he needed to go to the Hospital wing. He insisted that he did not need the Hospital wing, but unfortunately would not be able to continue playing for the day. This explanation drew some loud protests from both teams. If he left the game then they would not be able to continue - or one of the chasers from the other team would need to sit out.
It was at this precise time that the boy looked over, pointed at Madeline, and said, “She can play for me!” He was loud enough, and was pointing directly at me, that I was momentarily stunned and just stood looking at him dumbfounded with my mouth open. I was about to protest when one of the other boys jeered at him and said, “She can’t play, she is just a girl. She would fall off her broom and just get hurt!” This comment made all of the boys on his team laugh. Even though I had been about to protest playing, and knew that in fact the boy was correct - there was a good chance that I would fall off my broom - I could not take that jibe and just let it go. I strode right up to the boy, grabbed the broom that was sitting next to the fallen boy, and said, “We’ll just see about that now won’t we.” With that, I mounted my broom as I had in flying class and began to rise slowly off the ground - hoping that the boys did not see how white my knuckles were from gripping the broom handle.
Since the boy that fell was playing the part of Chaser, that was the position I found myself in. The boy that had fallen called to me and threw his gloves at me saying, “Show-em what a real Scot is made of!” Putting the gloves on, and grabbing the Quaffle I rose slowly again as play resumed. I began to fly slowly toward the other team's hoops (I have never been a confident flyer) when I heard someone shout, “look out!” and I turned and saw the bludger coming right at me. I passed the Quaffle to one of my team mates, and moved as fast as I could - barely holding on with all of the minimal strength I possessed - getting out of the way just as one of the Beaters from my team struck the Bludger at the chasers from the other team.
Play continued like this for the next hour or so, and each time I handled the Quaffle I would fly slowly (but each time not as slowly as the time before) down the pitch. I may not have been the fastest player on the pitch, but my accuracy is quite good, and whenever I would pass, or shoot, the Quaffle would go exactly where I launched it. I was tiring out quickly, and was hoping that one of the chasers on either team - by this time I did not care which - would catch the Snitch so the match would end. I caught the Quaffle and began my trudge down the pitch, when I saw everyone else’s eyes moving up higher. I could see that they were watching the two Seekers battling over a small shiny ball that was speedily flying away from them. I used this distraction to my advantage and threw the Quaffle through the center hoop, just moments before the other team’s Seeker caught the Snitch.
Even though our team lost, I counted my time as a win. I did not completely embarrass myself by falling off the broom, and I used my greatly developed hand-eye coordination and accuracy to the benefit of myself and my team. While I was not the best of players, I was definitely not as bad as I expected to be. Nevertheless, I would doubt that my House team would be searching for me and asking me to be on the team. My accuracy was good, but my flying agility, speed, and strength were not that good.
The rest of the students rushed over to him and began poking and prodding him, asking him all sorts of questions to make sure that he was uninjured, or to find out if he needed to go to the Hospital wing. He insisted that he did not need the Hospital wing, but unfortunately would not be able to continue playing for the day. This explanation drew some loud protests from both teams. If he left the game then they would not be able to continue - or one of the chasers from the other team would need to sit out.
It was at this precise time that the boy looked over, pointed at Madeline, and said, “She can play for me!” He was loud enough, and was pointing directly at me, that I was momentarily stunned and just stood looking at him dumbfounded with my mouth open. I was about to protest when one of the other boys jeered at him and said, “She can’t play, she is just a girl. She would fall off her broom and just get hurt!” This comment made all of the boys on his team laugh. Even though I had been about to protest playing, and knew that in fact the boy was correct - there was a good chance that I would fall off my broom - I could not take that jibe and just let it go. I strode right up to the boy, grabbed the broom that was sitting next to the fallen boy, and said, “We’ll just see about that now won’t we.” With that, I mounted my broom as I had in flying class and began to rise slowly off the ground - hoping that the boys did not see how white my knuckles were from gripping the broom handle.
Since the boy that fell was playing the part of Chaser, that was the position I found myself in. The boy that had fallen called to me and threw his gloves at me saying, “Show-em what a real Scot is made of!” Putting the gloves on, and grabbing the Quaffle I rose slowly again as play resumed. I began to fly slowly toward the other team's hoops (I have never been a confident flyer) when I heard someone shout, “look out!” and I turned and saw the bludger coming right at me. I passed the Quaffle to one of my team mates, and moved as fast as I could - barely holding on with all of the minimal strength I possessed - getting out of the way just as one of the Beaters from my team struck the Bludger at the chasers from the other team.
Play continued like this for the next hour or so, and each time I handled the Quaffle I would fly slowly (but each time not as slowly as the time before) down the pitch. I may not have been the fastest player on the pitch, but my accuracy is quite good, and whenever I would pass, or shoot, the Quaffle would go exactly where I launched it. I was tiring out quickly, and was hoping that one of the chasers on either team - by this time I did not care which - would catch the Snitch so the match would end. I caught the Quaffle and began my trudge down the pitch, when I saw everyone else’s eyes moving up higher. I could see that they were watching the two Seekers battling over a small shiny ball that was speedily flying away from them. I used this distraction to my advantage and threw the Quaffle through the center hoop, just moments before the other team’s Seeker caught the Snitch.
Even though our team lost, I counted my time as a win. I did not completely embarrass myself by falling off the broom, and I used my greatly developed hand-eye coordination and accuracy to the benefit of myself and my team. While I was not the best of players, I was definitely not as bad as I expected to be. Nevertheless, I would doubt that my House team would be searching for me and asking me to be on the team. My accuracy was good, but my flying agility, speed, and strength were not that good.
Speak softly and carry a powerful wand.
STA: 3, EVA: 8, STR: 1, WIS: 8, ArcPwr: 10, ACC: 10