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Frosty Broomsticks, part 3

Posted on Thursday, 29th of December, 2011 @ 8:46pm by Professor Jihana Temur & Mister Jason Wolfe & Mister Steve Rogers & Professor Edward Asquared & Seventh Year Prefect (G) Jennifer Collins & Seventh Year (R) Fiona MacLeod & Fourth Year (G) Satele Dragomir & First Year (G) Cassandra Crump & Seventh Year Prefect (R) Millie Anderson & Third Year (DS) Alena Ignatova & Fourth Year (S) Dean Carrow & Fourth Year (S) Muriel Watkins

Mission: Parents Weekend


Jason arrived and took a seat as the teams were coming in. He really didn't know anyone, but he settled in next to the teachers. He set down the picnic basket and the thermos filled with cocoa. He could smell the cold roast beef and cheese sandwiches, slathered with horseradish as well as the wrapped still warm apple pie scent wafting from the basket. Turning to the teachers and holding up some paper cups, he asked "Anyone for some hot cocoa?"

Jihana smiled as she eyed the basket. "Ready for the weather are we?" she commented jokingly.

"Oh, yes, nothing like a rousing Quidditch match, regardless of the weather!" Jason passed her a paper cup full of warm cocoa. "I remember back in my days here at Hogwarts as a student, freezing on a broomstick and chasing around the quaffle." He smiled at her. "You look familiar, maybe you were going at the same time as I?"

"I'm not sure. I was in during that time," she thanked him for the cup, knowing anyone would get that reference with ease. "Had just started my N.E.W.T.s. Sound familiar?"

"I was out by then, but came back for the end when I heard there was trouble." He rubbed his shoulder where he had been bitten in the battle. "Those were some dark days for all of us. I'm just glad it worked out in the end." He offered one of the roast beef and cheddar sandwiches to her. "I packed plenty, even if if goes on past midnight."

"Maybe we'll be lucky and Gryffindor will blast Slytherin out the water with ease." she joked, the lion pin on her lapel glinting yet again under the bright snow. Taking the sandwich graciously, her eyes moving to the action on the pitch.

"Might be nice, I'm more against the Slytherin than for the Gryffindors, but still love a rousing good match. It's not really the winning or losing though, it's the fight. The kids need to learn to win and lose both, that's what builds character. If they won all the time, then the wins would be pretty meaningless." He took a sip of his own cocoa. "It's the fight and the chase that keeps things interesting."

"Speak for yourself. I like the idea of sending Slytherin home with their tails between their legs." she said jokingly, hiding her smile behind the paper cup.

"There is that." Jason said, raising his cup in toast. "It's amazing when they rebuilt that they let the Slytherin back into the school after what they did."

Edward wished he had bought some hot tea, but wasn't really much for cocoa. "It's not all of them though, and there are some 'purists' in each of the houses that we might be better without, but every child deserves a proper education."

Jason sighed, "I suppose there is that, but Slytherin is supposed to be cunning and to some of them seem to think it's about being evil. You can be plenty cunning without being evil."


Jennifer slipped into the bleachers, finding a seat near the top so she could watch both teams play. She wrapped her thick cloak around her to ward off the worst of the snow.

Satele and Bre arrived in the stands just as the game was about to start, quickly, they managed to find a spot up the back where Satele pulled out a large red and gold Mink Blanket and wrapped it around the two of them. "How's that?" Satele asked, shifting in closer to Bre, who just nodded and looked up at the players.

Cassandra watched as the rest of the team made their lap and she took her place on the side lines. She was waiting for the balls to be released and when they were she was going to practice looking for the snitch.

Millie sat in the upper stands with her binoculars and a small pad and automatic ink quill. She was known to be taking notes and making plans during Quidditch matches so she could come up with strategies for her team.

Alena was especially fond of the an anti-Gryffindor flag that simply read 'Crumps are Chumps', and had artfully arranged, among the Slytherin Crowd, with others, that read things like 'The Cross-eyed seeker will not find the snitch', and 'Get the heck out of Dodge, Dodge'.

She smiled, when she got the snow, melting upon coming too close to the bracelet she had lent Peter.

Fiona slipped into a seat where she could watch the two teams play and get a good idea of what sort of opponents they would be. She'd be playing both of them before the year was out and she wanted to make sure she knew how to block them.

Rogers flew up to his position and called the team captains to start the game.

The Slytherin team stood at the doors, ready to fly. They simultaneously mounted their brooms, adjusting their gloves and goggles. Dean looked over at Sam, waiting until he caught his eye. "Don't worry about anything else. Just keep your eye on the snitch, and you'll do just fine."

As soon as the doors opened, they kicked off, flying in tight formation for a circle of the pitch before the players took their respective positions, waiting for their Captain to meet the referee and the Gryffindor one.

Muriel Watkins, tossed her beater, between her hands, while directing her broom, with her clenched kneecaps. Her morning stretch had done it's job. It was snowing. She scowled, as she realized that this would impact her aim, and she really wanted to nail this uppity first year, she had heard about, from the other Slytherin players. "Remember, everyone, the snow adds both resistance, and unpredictability, in all of the balls." She said, watching her team-mates getting ready. "This is especially important for the Keepers, Beaters, and Chasers. The snitch is always a witch to catch."

"Making up nursery rhymes now Watkins?" Dean smugly asked, adjusting his goggles. Though he was picking fun at his team mates, it was all in good jest in the typically arrogant way he was known for.

Before anyone could respond, the Referee called for their attention. The game was about to begin.


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