Spectator Quidditch Durmstrang vs Beauxbâtons-Tenūsa - Summer 2026

SPECTATOR THREAD FOR QUIDDITCH
DURMSTRANG vs BEAUXBÂTONS-TENŪSA - SUMMER 2026

The Hogwarts Quidditch Stadium sat under a stubborn grey sky, with a drizzle the wind kept picking up and sending sideways, and enough mist to reduce the far stands and hoops to a vague watercolour impression of themselves. Everyone's aim was bound to take a hit and the Seekers would be hunting something walnut-sized through soup.

As for the pink-haired figure currently very dry inside the commentary box, he had no complaints about the weather, seeing as he wasn't the one flying through it, and international guests experiencing what Hogwarts players trained through on a routine basis seemed like cultural immersion of the highest order.

"Ladies, gentlemen, and non-binary friends, whoever summer camp hasn't finished off yet, welcome to the Summer 2026 International Quidditch game!" After he is done testing the mic with several taps, Mamori announced at 2:00 PM sharp. "We've got excellent weather today by local standards, so I hope our international guests enjoy the full British experience and, more importantly, play something entertaining."

He gestured toward the left end of the pitch. "Anyway, over to my left, we've got Durmstrang!" The pause that followed could conveniently be put down to giving the crowd time to cheer while the players entered from the locker room, though one who noticed Mamori frowning at the lineup sheet might have concluded otherwise — that he was deciding whether to read every name on the lineup aloud, several of which were long and difficult to pronounce. He then gestured right "And facing them today, Beauxbâtons and Tenūsa!" extending their players the same courtesy of anonymity, in the spirit of equal treatment. "Take a good look now while everyone is still clean, upright and professionally presentable, because five minutes into this game it won't be."

Once the cheer and applause died down, Mamori cast a perfunctory umbrella spell and made his way down onto the pitch — where he released the Quaffle into the grey and let the whistle do the rest.