The mission had been a simple one: try to get the old Cleansweep out of the back of the closet and flight ready again. Sissel had been in a nostalgic mood during some summer cleaning and another apparent dry spell of activity at the office had him pinning for the days on the Gryffindor team. In his mind, the task would be simple, tweaking the charms, clipping the twigs, maybe sanding down the shaft. What he did not expect was...

"Say that again."

The attendant behind the desk repeated "Sir, you couldn't even sweep the floors with this. A mop would be more aerodynamic. When was the last time you rode this?"

Sissel scratched his head. "Late 90s? Wait, also at the millennium." The big switch to a new Century was madness in the Time Travel Investigation and Regulation Bureau. With a sequence of events Sissel liked to call 'Aging the Broom at 5 times the Normal Rate.'

"I mean, I've rode other brooms, just not that one."

"Early model Cleansweeps had a notoriously low shelf life," the clerk explained, "if  you didn't ride them frequently enough. You wouldn't notice it if you were on a professional team, but even in the off season if players didn't train with them teams usually had to buy the newest model Cleansweep come season open."

"Well, you learn new stuff all the time," Sissel said. It had been his first and only Quidditch broom those short years on the team, all of his insane moves were made with it. Should add a slight despondency to the circumstances.

Surprisingly short-lived. "Out with the old, in with the new! Don't mind me I'm going to browse a few minutes."

The new question was what could he afford. The pay from TTI was decent enough but he had a definite budget. Still, having a new broom would jazz him up for getting other people in the ministry interested in an office amateur team. Provided they still weren't burning his memos to that regard on sight. A visit to Scribbulus for different stationary afterwards might slip it past them.

"Right, then," Kingside responded with a bit of a frown; how in the world could it possibly take that long to perform some routine maintenance on a broomstick? Why, it couldn't even need more than a compulsory check-up -- the blasted thing was a top-of-the-line Firebolt, for crying out loud. A gift from his uncle the previous season, and without a doubt the greatest broom that the burly sixth year had ever ridden on. Granted, he had only made use of just under half a dozen brooms -- but the Firebolt was surely one of the best!

Well, the boy saw no reason to let a wait keep his spirits down; he'd probably tour the alley a bit, eye a few storefronts, and perhaps do a bit of window shopping before the day was out. For now, though, he'd take a wee look around the store -- it was a rather nice shop, home to all sorts of lovely trinkets, flourishes, and accessories for one's broom; bipods to rest your feet on here, a bit of polish to shine up your wood hee hee and "cut through the air" with -- as if a hundred and fifty miles per hour wasn't quite fast enough!

Kingside mulled over the purchasing options within the store -- spending the majority of his summer with the same uncle who had bought him the comely broomstick, the young Gryffindor boy had a rather sizable sum of money to play about with. Though, of course, his mind was elsewhere; he'd been a Chaser on the house team for four years now -- since his second year at Hogwarts, naturally -- and he'd been angling for the position of Captain for as long as memory served... which, admittedly, wasn't entirely long -- he'd taken quite a few nasty blows to the head throughout his years.

Of course, seeing as last year's Captain was a seventh year, nobody knew who the Captain would be until the start of term. Talk about building suspense.

Sissel was comparing a Comet and Nimbus side by side when a tilt of his head caught sight of a student in his peripherals. Upperclassman, built big, and since he was shopping here he must be a Quidditch player at Hogwarts.

"Team player huh?" Sissel said conversationally. "Let me guess, Beater, no, Chaser?"

After a moment, the young athlete glanced up from the array of flying supplies; he eyed Sissel for a moment, somewhat unsure of him, but eventually met him with a warm smile and extended hand.

"Oh, aye," he replied, exchanging a firm handshake should Sissel care to, "Chaser for Gryffindor. Beater was my first choice, but, ah -- life has a way of puttin' us right where we're most useful, 'eh? Wound up playin' Chaser, had a real knack for it."

After returning his hands to his sides -- and then crossing them over his chest, still smiling amiably -- he introduced himself; "Kingside, by th'way. John Kingside. Pleasure!"

What a friendly young man.

"Shut the Owlery door!" Sissel exclaimed. "Gryffindor and Chaser, my old position! Well, for just a few years when Charlie Weasley was captain. Oliver Wood made it apparent he didn't want to put up with me even as he struggled to build a team, though he got Potter and all the better for it."

"Sissel Jowd," he introduced himself, returning the firm handshake. "Big shoes to fill being on that team, all the legendary names. Though Charlie and I are the sad truth that not everyone makes Quidditch into a career." That of Dragon Handling and Time Travel Investigation, one of which you could actually print on a business card.

"But your young eyes might be able to help me. I'll admit I'm behind on the times on the latest brooms. Any ideas on a fast, durable model for flights and Quidditch on the side?"

Kingside placed a hand to his chin, massaging it thoughtfully.

"Well, depends on your price range, I s'pose. Me uncle bought me a Firebolt as a gift -- flies faster than any other broom I've used. Smoother, too. Holds up well." The boy nodded, jerking his head towards a nearby, very up-to-date Firebolt model. He indicated the rather hefty price.

"They'll run ye a good bit, but hold up like champions, and keep ye a cut above the rest -- you still play any, then? A few of the folks I played with in my second and third years have gone on to play league level, but all th'famous 'uns were nice and long gone before I was even eleven. A bit sad, I suppose -- born in the nick o' time for the second war to be in me history book."

Sissel whistled at the Firebolt price. "I'll have to save up several months wages for that and figure out how to leave by magically stretching a packet of saltines for food." Though the thought was tempting. Stories had drifted down from the real Department of Transportation, back up by MLE, that if someone on the Ministry Watchlist got their hands on a Firebolt it was tough luck catching them in the air on the standard ministry brooms that fit the budget.

"Not often enough. Trying to see if a 'for fun and stress relief' office team could be set up but everyone says they're so busy these days. But it's good for how the Ministry and Hogwarts have been able to bounce back since the war."

"Y'should definitely start playin' again," Kingside mused, smiling, "wonderful game, Quidditch. Best there is, really. Ye work for the ministry, 'eh? Well, I'm sure ye folks are busy, but there's always time to play a friendly game. 'sides, little competition 'tween coworkers never hurts anything, right?" Kingside crossed his arms over his chest, eyeing the Firebolt. It was a model above his own broomstick, though as far as he could tell, bore few noticeable differences. Ah, economics.

"If ye'd like, though, I'd be game te help play a friendly match with some of yer colleagues. I might just be a sixth year, but I've been told I can play a mean game -- and I've not got a lot te do while the summer winds down, y'know? Maybe some ministry folk tha' were in Slytherin or Ravenclaw would like te test their mettle against a young athlete like m'self, hmm?" Kingside chuckled at the thought.

"Might have to take out a loan," Sissel mused. "Or there are other ways of getting a cash influx." It went without a doubt that it would be suicidal for your coin purse to try betting against anyone from TTI. They all knew the potential for that accurate divination, the right set of circumstances, the delivery of tomorrow's Daily Prophet could win you big when gambling. But then it wouldn't be gambling anymore and if one did it the whole department would do it and break the pot. Plus, it was kinda taboo, like Cursebreakers doing insider trading at Gringotts or botching expeditions so they could double dip their commissions and sell the artifacts again on the side. At least, that stuff could happen according to his ol' buddy Terrence the Arithmancer.

"If there's one thing ministry Quidditch would do, it wouldn't sour interdepartmental relations any more then they already are!" It was a gyroscopic political sphere, your allies a floor above on one day hated your guts on the next. For what little was known about the Department of Mysteries, most Unspeakables weren't trusted on sight unless you had worked with them before.

Sissel had a good chuckle out of Kingside's offer, he'd never heard of a kid so gung ho for Quidditch he would assist an amateur team at the Wizarding UK Seat of Government should such a venture get underway. The boy definitely belonged in Gryffindor, he had that assertion others may call cockiness but a drive Sissel admired. He was always mindful of the traits of the upcoming younger generation. After all, if he gauged interested it would help TTI because the department didn't advertise by way of your typical career fair.

"You'd be the first, I think," Sissel said. "Though if you've got the skill, I know a few types round the Ministry that could take a serving of humble pie and chips. Speaking of, have you ever thought of what you might do if Quidditch never took off for you? Not to jinx the chance at a prime career, I'm sure, but you've uncovered quite the networking opportunity if you did dip your toe into the ministry."

"Well, t'be honest with ye," Kingside replied, pausing a beat. "I've never actually wanted to play Quidditch professionally -- I've always thought it would suck all the fun out of it, y'know?" He turned his eyes towards the Firebolt display, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. What did he want to do with his life? Well, he only had a couple more years to figure it out.

"I suppose what I can do depends largely on me N.E.W.T. scores, 'eh? Truth be told I've always been kinda interested in Auror work, or Hitwizards, the like. Always was a decent duelist, get good marks in me class, et cetera. I'm sure I'll qualify; I just don't know if I'll be able to do it."

"Mmm, sometimes there's work that's pleasurable, then pleasurable work that becomes a chore." Sissel had thought transferring to the Bureau would be lively exiting work, not the preventive action paperwork he had to deal with most days. And they didn't let you flip the Time Turner willy-nilly.

"Well, Aurors require five strong NEWTs at the very least. But a man who is quick on his feet, adaptable to a wide variety of magic and resilient in his convictions would easily find work in the Ministry," he encouraged. "And if it's adventure you seek, Magical Law Enforcement isn't the only department where names can become legendary. What classes are you taking?"

Sissel contemplated the display of brooms. "I just may give in and buy a Firebolt though I hope I can get one at a lower price. Still that would be a year's wages pilled on what I've saved up, then it's the crackers and hot sauce for dinner."

Kingside chuckled; "Advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts, as far as I know; dropped Astronomy, because really; jus' barely scraped an Exceeds Expectations in Potions, as it's me weakest subject, so I'm not sure if I'll take Advance Potions; hopefully Advanced Transfiguration. There're some other cores an' a couple a' electives, but those're me favorites. Plus Quidditch practice three days a week -- usually, anyway."

The boy smiled, nodding towards the Firebolt, "If ye' got the galleons to get 'er she'll never let ye' down, tha's fer sure."

"Defense will get you far, also Transfiguration although many tend to overlook it," Sissel said. "In a pinch you'll find simple transformations and conjurations or vanishments to be invaluable. I can't remember if the MLE still excepts an exceptional Potions score, your OWL may do. Mostly it's to recognize poisons and other hazardous potions, although a liberal Defense class may mention those too."

It sounded like Kingside was narrowing his options for NEWT classes. Each their own, some went for a well rounded education or others focused on a definite career. A bit too narrow than Sissel would have done for at one point he had been in Johnny's position too, unsure of what exactly to do for a career. But he seemed intent on physical adventurous service in the field, and his class choices reflected that nicely.

Sissel bit his lip then smiled. "Well, you can't take it with you and if you can buy it tomorrow, why not buy it today." He selected the Firebolt with the cheapest price tag, a model labeled as used, still worth a mint. Though not an account level arithmancer like his buddy Terrence, Sissel had a head for numbers and knew he could get the price to work in his budget without getting too far into debt.

"Getting your Quidditch broom ready for a new season then?" Sissel asked, inspecting the used Firebolt. A few scratches along the shaft and some snapped twigs but it wasn't like that broke the Braking Charms or other safety features.

"Oh, aye," Kingside replied to the inquiry about his broom; "Know I'll make the team again. 'tween you 'n' me, I'm hopin' for team captain. It'd certainly be an honor, 'eh?"

The boy watched Sissel pick out his brow, smiling. "Certainly a keeper," he judged, "I'm sure she'll do ye well, so long as ye ain't flyin' in a sponsored tournament any time soon." The clerk called Kingside to the front; the boy went and retrieved his own Firebolt, freshly groomed and lovely looking, serviced fully. He paid the man his due, as well as a bit on top as a tip.