The Best Kind of Rivalry PV Griffin White Closed

A crisp gust of wind washed over the form of the young wizard just as stepped out onto the grounds. Letting a small sigh slip from his lips, Griffin let his shoulders slump in relief. He desperately needed to get out of the common room and castle. He felt stifled, not yet used to the rather strict rules of where to go and what not to do. Not that he followed them anyway.

Casual footfalls lead him across the dewy grass to find his way to the Quidditch pitch. Over the past few days he felt an itch that he couldn't quite scratch, classes marred his free time with homework, essays and so on, but by Merlin's beard those essays. Letting his mind envision a rather dramatic eye roll at the very thought. He needed to feel fly again.

Upon entering the pitch his contrasting gaze rose with a girl who had just lifted off the ground. Good- he thought to himself  as he strode to where the school brooms where kept. Perhaps a little competition could set his mind at ease.

Digits closing around the handle, Griffin would frown slightly at the sight of the school brooms. Firebolt Supremes they were not, but he supposed they would have to do. Taking a few steps back out onto the pitch and swinging a leg over the weather beaten Cleansweep, Griffin kicks of the ground, rising up to meet the girl currently holding a quaffle in her grasp. 

"You look like you know what you're doing." Griffin says loudly enough for the girl to hear as he brought the broom to a stop just a few metres away from her. His expression one of mild surprise, he never expected any first to be reasonably good at Quidditch.

The redheaded girl threw the Quaffle into the right hoop on one side of the field, before diving down to pick it up and flying back up. She pushed her broom to get to the other side of the field, wanting to get there in under five seconds. She succeeded. The ball left her fingertips and was thrown into the left hoop, going right through the middle. The ball then proceeded to fall to the ground and Rhea pointed her broom downwards yet again, aiming to get the ball before it fell and bounced back up to her. She got it and flew back towards the middle, hovering.

Rhea turned around to look as another student joined her up in the air. It was a boy with shoulder length ashy-blonde hair and eyes that could immediately capture anyone's attention. One eye was a bright blue while the other was a hazel colour. She could see that the boy had practiced before, as the broom had flown up into his hand the moment he muttered the word "Up." She raised an eyebrow as he flew gracefully up to her, hovering a few meters away from her. 

"You look like you know what you're doing," the boy said. She shrugged and guided her broom a bit higher so she could look down on him, instead of having to look up because of her small height. Her right arm started to fall asleep from tucking the Quaffle in the crook of her elbow so she switched it to her left. 

"As do you," Rhea replied. She stared at him, trying to decipher if she knew him. He looked vaguely familiar, but Rhea couldn't pinpoint from where exactly. She chewed on her lip but eventually gave it up. "The name's Rhea. Rhea Bishop. Fancy a little bit or competition?"

Adjusting his seating on the broom beneath his frame, the young wizard leans back on the Cleansweep. Mismatched gaze following the path the red haired girl took to settle in the air above him.

A small smirk split his usually serious features as she did this, a smirk that served as a substitute for a furrowed brow. The girl looked familiar, vague familiar at that. He silently cursed his bad memory when it came to witches and wizards his age. He'd seen so many of them in pre-Hogwarts that his mind muddled their faces​ so much he was pretty sure someone modified his memory with each encounter.

Breaking from his musings mere moments before she introduced herself. Bishop? That sounded a bit too familiar. A long pause would follow Rhea's introduction, a pause that would only be broken by the sharp gust of wind that blew between them, his Ravenclaw robes whipping about his legs.

Letting a hand loose from its grip on the broom Griffin slowly rises up to match her altitude. Lifting​ his gaze to hers​ Griffin runs her family name through his mind, lifting his free hand to scratch the back of his head absentmindedly. "You can call me White... Griffin White to be specific." he offers in response. "and sure, I wouldn't mind a little warm up." Griffin adds, his small smirk widening to a rare wide grin that he'd only show when he was completely confident of his control over a situation.

Rhea shivered a bit as a small wind passed through her. She regretted not wearing her Gryffindor scarf, because now she was shivering. She debated whether she should just fly down and get it, but decided that it wasn't worth her pride. Instead, she wrapped her robes tighter around herself and looked back at the boy. He was looking up at her, and slowly pointed his broom upwards so he could join her at her height. She rolled her eyes but decided not to move her broom back up, instead craning her head to look up at him.

The boy rubbed the back of his neck as he introduced himself as Griffin White. Griffin White... Rhea swore that she had heard that name before. She focused her attention on trying to figure out where she knew the name from. White... Griffin... Griffin White! The famous White family, with people going into either Ravenclaw or Slytherin.

Rhea raised an eyebrow as she realized that this was a member of the infamous White family. Although the last name 'White' is a common surname, this specific White family had a tradition of naming their kids unusual name. Rhea had met them once, at a gathering she'd attended with her parents. She had had to talk with Griffin, seeing as there were no others worth conversing with. But that was back when she still had blonde hair, before the dyeing spell gone wrong had turned her hair permanently red. 

She looked at Griffin, who had no opposition to a mini-competition. He grinned widely, and Rhea snickered inwardly when she realized that he thought he had the cat in the bag. Clearly, he had never gone against someone of her skill. She smirked.

"One on one game," she suggested. "First to 100 points wins. As you know, each goal is worth 10 points. I'll take this side, you take the other. Alright?"

Rhea pointed to the hoops behind her, the ones to the left of someone viewing their game from the stands. She raised an eyebrow at Griffin in a challenge. She had no doubt that she would win this. 

Lowering his hand back to settle on the broom, Griffin eyes the Bishop girl's face, noting the unmistakable twisting of features into an expression of recognition. So, she knows my family name- he thought to himself, Good, she's definitely a pure-blood. Internally cursing his memory when it came to those he had met in his younger years.

Sure he was still kid at 11 years old, but he was definitely a lot older than when he last was forced to engage in conversation and play with his fellow pure blood wizards and witches. Returning his thoughts to Rhea's words, Griffin gently inclines his head in a brief nod of acknowledgement to the rules she had set. Shouldn't be too hard, let her score a few. Don't want to crush her spirit too early into the year.

A small chuckle escapes him when Rhea pointed out the goals. "Sure." the trace of arrogance barely hidden in his tone "I'm bored any way." he says whilst lazily letting both hands release the Cleansweep, interlocking them them above his head in a stretch. His lithe frame seemingly perfectly perched on the weather beaten broomstick.

"Do try to keep up though. We want this little contest to at least be entertaining"

The redheaded girl crossed her arms in anticipation. She needed a good opponent, and this boy seemed a good opponent as any. Her blue eyes widened as she urged him to make a decision faster.

Rhea could see him thinking about her proposition. He gently nodded his head, agreeing to the rules she'd set. She crossed her arms, making sure to keep her balance on the broom. He finally nodded and expressed his agreement verbally. 

"I'm bored anyway," he said. Rhea raised an eyebrow. So, he thought this would be an easy game to win. Boy, was he in for a surprise. 

"Do try to keep up though. We want this little contest to at least be entertaining," he said, locking his arms above his head and stretching. Rhea laughed out loud. She'd been underestimated before, plenty of times actually, when she'd gone against other pureblood boys at the various parties she'd attended. Each time, she'd ended up kicking their butts. 

Wait a minute, she suddenly thought, a vague memory popping into her bed. She swore she could remember this boy... perhaps... she could! He was one of the boys she'd gone against at one of those parties! I can't remember how the game ended, but I do remember it was intense. 

"Oh, I'm sure it'll be very entertaining," Rhea smirked. Oh, this game was going to be fun. Time to finish some unfinished business. Rhea was now determined to win this game. "How about you try to keep up?"

With that, Rhea threw the ball high into the air. As she caught him off his guard, she ended up catching the ball and began to speed away to her goal.

The laugh she let loose seemed to stir something in the deep recesses of his mind. Of all the things he couldn't pin on her, he definitely knew that laugh. He knew it  like every song his great grandmother played on that blasted gramophone.

The laugh belonged to a girl with blonde hair though, unless...of course! Rhea Bishop! So she's got red hair now huh he thought to himself as recognition dawned to his striking face.

Griffin couldn't remember which party it was, but he definitely remembered the details of that match. It was a game of six people, three on each side. His team was down by 80 points and the sun was setting a bit too quickly for his liking. Ultimately they could not finish the game as the young wizard who played keeper for Rhea's team somehow fell from his broom. Griffin had absolutely no idea how that happened and was utterly gutted when he learned that the boy had suffered a broken leg or two.

Barely bringing his attention back to the game at hand, Griffin found himself a few seconds too late  to react to her actions.

A silent curse let slips from his lips as he threw himself forward onto the the broom in pursuit. His hands clasped down on the Cleansweep with a vice grip of note. Griffin presses his frame down the handle, hunkering down to reduce the resistance the wind placed on his rapidly accelerating form.

Robes billowing behind him, and white hair pressed back, Griffin squints his eyes to peer through the wind currently attempting to blind him as he swiftly made up for his delayed start, eyeing the quaffle she held with grim determination etched into his face.

His plan was simple: upon catching up with Rhea, Griffin would punch the quaffle from her grasp as he flew past her. Intending on sending it flying outwards where he should be able to catch it. If this was successful, he would then immediately dive downwards in an arc, sweeping just above the green field below thus bringing him about to face his goal.

As the ball went soaring through the air, Rhea recollected the memories of the first match she'd played against the boy. There were two groups of three, and his team was losing by a whole lot of points, Rhea couldn't remember the exact amount. Suddenly, the boy who was playing keeper for her team fell off his broom and ended up breaking his leg. She hadn't really cared about the boy, seeing as she didn't know him personally, but had been very disappointed that she hadn't had the chance to finish the game. Now, looking at the faint accomplished look that appeared on the boy's face, Rhea guessed that it was him that made the boy fell off. She internally chuckled. 

Then she headed off towards her goal, aiming for the middle hoop. Rhea turned as she felt Griffin catching up to her. She pressed her lips together and pressed down on her broom, moving her broom faster. She felt the white haired boy getting closer and closer to her, and just when she felt him about to wrench the Quaffle out of her grasp, she dived down and to the right, before swerving her broom to complete a full circle. 

The redhead smirked, knowing she'd knocked him off. She kept her low distance until she was just below the hoop, before pointing the tip of her broom straight up so it brought her just before the goal. She turned her broom around so she could face Griffin, then tossed the Quaffle backwards, sticking her tongue out at him. It went straight through the middle of the lower left hoop. 

"10 points for me," she smirked. She plunged down and grabbed the Quaffle before it had the chance to hit the ground, and threw the ball to Griffin. "Your turn to start with the ball."

Pulling the Cleansweep around after Rhea stifled his attempt at disarming her of
the quaffle, Griffin would furrow his brow in mild annoyance. Not bothering to
chase after her this time, he leaned forward to casually catch up with her, gaze
following the quaffle as it flew through the ring earning the red haired git..
girl. Earning the red haired girl 10 points.
It was still a little early to play seriously in Griffin's opinion, besides, he
needed to ease back into the game. The hours of classes, hunched over desks had
taken a toll on the lad.

Coming to pause as Rhea threw the quaffle to him, Griffin lightly plucks the orb
from the air, swiftly placing it within the crook of his right arm, pressing it
into his side to ensure that it does not slip away from him.

A glass smile glazed over his face as the ashen haired boy locked eyes with
Rhea. "Not bad, most people usually panic when I pull up beside them." he says
lazily before briefly contracting his features into a cheeky wink with his right
eye before swiftly pulling the broom upwards to rocket almost completely
vertical into the sky above.
Griffin’s rapid ascent would bring him to heights that would serve to question
his sanity. After all, the goal posts where definitely not in the clouds. As
crazy it seemed, Griffin simply wanted to test Rhea’s nerve. A fact that would
become apparent as he turned on a dime a full 180 degrees, a small grimace
pulling to his windswept features as he felt the broom groan in protest to hiss
rapid change in direction.

Had Rhea given chase to Griffin as he taken to the skies, she would find him
hurtling to the ground, or to be specific, hurtling directly towards her. His
intention it seemed was a take her out, something that he had considered,
briefly that is.

1)If she kept her nerve and stayed on course, Griffin would jerk sideways
moments before impact in a downward arcing spiral that veered off to his goal.
The Basilisk feint, he called it. Though the move left him slightly dizzy, a
fact that he would silently curse as he whipped up to the gaol posts, barely
avoiding the ground, to throw the quaffle into the middle ring to equalise the
standings.

2)If Rhea could not keep her nerve and moved out of the way, Griffin would
continue down the path set the dewy grass below pulling hard on the poor broom
for the second time to rocket at the goal posts at an angle mere fractions above
the ground. His rise would employ the use high speed zigzagging movements
intended to throw Rhea off. If successful Griffin would take aim at the middle
ring again, his shot barely making it through as it ricocheted off the inside
section of the post.