---

1100 hours, Quidditch Pitch

It was an hour to noon and the skies had been clear all morning. Now, however, it looked as though a stormy cloud was nearing their end of Hogwarts castle as a grey shadow cast itself across the quidditch pitch. Raine Almasy was dressed in complete playing garb today. Even with their team sweater worn underneath her robes, she could feel the slight chill coming in from the north. Russian winds that carried into Scotland. They would not be flying under ideal conditions but certainly not bad enough to call off the practice.

No, nothing short of a full-blown storm would cause her to cancel today. Raine sat outside on the ground with her gangly legs folded underneath her, a broomstick sleeping still on one side and their accessories on the other-- all the balls were still, quiet, besides the obvious exception of the Bludger. It squirmed and shifted and shook the holding box like a child kicking to get away from its mother's arms.

Maurice was sitting on top of the closed box, swaying his tail and seemingly unperturbed by its movement. The cat, like his owner, was staring up at the grey clouds. Hopefully the other players were out of their beds and on their way over. Raine had arrived early to set up for the day, of course, but she was still ahead of schedule. The others were only due in the next half-an-hour, though it was likely they would arrive earlier... even on a Sunday.

Raine looked back down, cracking her neck slightly. It was amazing how quickly they had tidied up the area of the first task of the Tournament. Some sounds erupted in the distance and she glanced over in the direction of the locker rooms.

"Here we go," the Gryffindor Captain murmured. She took her broom into her left hand as she stood, and waved at the first few players who had emerged. "Good morning!" Raine called out as they crossed the grassy earth. Another gust of wind blew into the pitch and a faint smile curled at her lips. Well. This was going to be interesting.

Josh walked out onto the Quidditch Pitch in his Quidditch Robes. Today was the day of the Quidditch Tryouts, when he would see who would be the other beater. From what he knew, there were quite a few people trying out. "Good Morning Raine" he called over at the Captain. "Looking forward to testing the mettle of the people trying out?"

At just over four and a half feet and eighty pounds, Mairead was certainly going to be amongst the proud ranks of the most-pint-sized candidates that trucked out onto the field.  But, what she lacked in stature, she made up for in determination. 

She'd been waiting a bloody year for this moment and she'd have to be unconscious and maimed in the hospital hut to miss it.  Despite Raine's assurance that Mairead wouldn't have to resort to dirty tactics to eliminate any competition, Mairead was ready to put more determination into her tryout than she'd ever put into any of her academic endeavors. 

Broom in hand and a heavy dose of adrenaline coursing through her blood stream, Mairead broke into a jog as she made her way onto the pitch.  As such, she reached their Captain (and conveniently, her official-school-designated-taskmaster tutor) just as one of the other prefects did.  Though she didn't know most of the prefects by name (aside from Raine, they were pretty much all the same), it was a safe bet they knew her.  She'd been scolded, chased out of the forest or diverted from tormenting some poor bookwormy Ravenclaw by all of them on at least a dozen accounts over the course of the last year. 

"I'm here for the tryout.  She invited me," Mairead declared, pointing at Raine as she gave Josh a look that dared him to give her grief.  She couldn't remember if it had been him or one of the new fifth year prefects that had chased her out off from lurking outside the Slytherin dorms with pockets full of frog entrails pilfered from the potions store cupboard. 

"Good to see you, then. What position are you trying out for?" Josh said to the second-year that had walked up. He did in fact recognize Mairead, having had to stop her antics a fair few times over the past year, however, he had generally ignored most of her antics, primarily concerning himself with keeping the second-year out of the forest, and away from the bookworms where possible. He had heard from one of the fifth-year prefects that she had been hanging around near the Slytherin dorms with pockets full of frog entrails.

Harcroft had been the first to emerge from the locker rooms. He appeared to be in an amiable disposition, perhaps more intent than she was on seeing how their new team players would work together towards the end of today's tryouts. Teamwork was not Raine's forte, so to speak, but she knew that most of the Gryffindors got along rather well enough as it was. Quidditch simply applied... a particular soft of strain to relationships already in equilibrium.

"No," the witch responded in a deadpan tone when her housemate had reached her spot in the center of the pitch. "Though I don't doubt that it will be amusing." She was was just about to ask whether Harcroft himself was prepared to reclaim his position as Beater when they were joined by who she suspected to be the tiniest of their players this term.

Mairead jumped into the conversation in full defensive mode and Raine smirked as she was pointed at. Somehow she doubted that anyone would have questioned the second year's presence today. Tutoring sessions had shown that she wasn't the most studious of students but surely she was one of the more spirited. And from what they had discussed before, possibly quite good on the broom.

At least that was what they hoped. "Good to see you, then. What position are you trying out for?" Josh began to ask but Raine cut into the question with another small smirk, giving the younger girl an assessing stare.

"Don't worry Harcroft, she isn't out for Beater. Mairead here wants to be our Seeker, " she cast a fleeting glance towards the holding box on the ground. "She thinks she can catch the Golden Snitch." Raine thought so as well though she wouldn't ever say so out loud.

That was what tryouts were for. Skill spoke in place of testament. She shifted her gaze back to Mairead and addressed her properly. "You don't have to justify your being here to anyone but me, alright? This is Quidditch and the only titles we hold here are the positions we play."

"You don't have to justify your being here to anyone but me, alright? This is Quidditch and the only titles we hold here are the positions we play."

Yeah, right, Tynan thought, as he loomed up behind Mairead. He had a school broom over his shoulder, much to his annoyance; his escapades over the summer with Luthas Blair's prime racing broom had not ended with him being allowed to keep the broom. He'd have been a better owner, he felt. The broom was just sitting out in the barn and no one was using it! What would have been the harm in letting him keep it?

He, of course, would have to worry about detentions in addition to Quidditch practice. In theory, anyway. In reality, he  fully planned to skip detentions in exchange for practice. Blair'd understand. And if she didn't, well, too bad for her...

Actually, that was just stupid. But he'd figure something out.

Much like Mairead, his manner suggested he was expecting to get thrown off the pitch at any moment. Raine being a Prefect wasn't a fact he was going to forget just because she said it didn't matter. She was a Prefect and the captain, and that just doubled her power over the pitch. Plus there was Harcroft, another Prefect.

He just hoped Quidditch didn't turn into a goody-two-shoes parade. He'd walk the hell out if it did that.

"'ello," he said, politely, despite his apprehension. He inclined his head in a curt and matter of fact nod.

With a pair of Quidditch goggles clenched around his head and brown tufts of hair, a froppy Gryffindor sweater tucked into a pair of loose belt-buckled pants, and with those pants tucked into his boots, and with gloves and arm and shin guards protecting the appropriate body parts, Erik Collins was prepared to not only put to use a well-practiced disillusionment charm, but to maybe--possibly--(or not really)--go and try out at Quidditch tryouts today. Sort of.

The boy cast the disillusionment charm on himself and his broom before he took off towards the Quidditch pitch, only appearing like a clear screen rippling against the sky. From a distance, he could easily be mistaken for a cloud, and probably was fairly unnoticeable to the tiny gaggle of Gryffindors below him.

But Erik slowly descended upon the group, as he grew closer and closer to the crowd, and then slowly lowered himself into a hover above Almasy's head. The shadows in his face began to paint against the wind just as Almasy explained that no one had to justify anything today-or something or another. But as the charm rippled away and revealed Erik in all his gleeful and energetic pride, he swung below his broom, hung upside down, and then lowered himself down another inch--just enough to bop his porcupine  nogging against the red mane of Almasy's head.

"What about this position?" He exclaimed with a huge smile and a stifled laugh.

There was a vaguely belligerent nature to the way Mairead's friend had approached the team on the pitch; or at least that was as much as Raine could tell from MacFusty's general mannerisms. His greeting was civil enough and she was on the verge of responding in kind to the one-eyed boy when something came into contact with her head.

"Merli--!" The witch stepped aside instinctively, quicker than she could exclaim her surprise, and her gaze shot to the lopsided grin of another (much less contentious) second year. Collins. Already on his broom, as well.

"What about this position?" the spiky-haired boy was asking... naturally rather amused by himself. Raine suppressed the urge to roll her eyes and instead brought herself onto tiptoes, wrapping a surprisingly capable arm around her housemate's neck before swiftly wrenching him down[1]. Plucked from his broom, Collins went tumbling to the grassy ground and she let go of him. Couldn't afford to injure his neck.

At least not while there was a chance he could be a player, anyway. "That position is inefficient," Raine muttered at him with a faint smile before glancing up at the rest of the students. "I suppose we can begin now. There's some rain coming in but you ought to be able to fly in it." Latecomers would be evaluated as they arrive. The redhead reached out to yank Erik's broom before it fell from floating position and tossed it to him.

"We do this by position," she announced in a slightly louder voice while moving closer to the holding box, bludger still shaking it to death. Raine stomped her foot on the top of the box to keep it still for a moment. Bloody thing was a nuisance on the eyes and ears. Her gaze shifted back to the rest, pausing for a moment on Harcroft and then settling on the second years. "I'm Keeper, unless anyone cares to contend. Otherwise, we can have a go at whatever position you're interested in. Do we have any volunteers?"

1.	God-modding allowed by Zayzie

The pint-sized second year dipped her head in a single nod, confirming her bid for Seeker.  She could play beater, if that was necessary to get on the team - she'd played beater for hufflepuff during the previous term.  But, she was fully prepared to fight for Seeker if there were other contenders.  And, she had no qualms about fighting prefects or anyone else if it came to that. 

But, Raine confirmed Mairead's right to be here and the second year glanced up when she heard the familiar lilt behind her.  She grinned at Tynan and nodded, crossing her arms over her chest, turning back to the group.  Playing Seeker with Tynan at her back?  No one could contest that that wouldn't work in the team's favor. 

Mairead waited, as patiently as she could, as Collins entered the scene with his usual antics. Once those were out of the way, Raine turned her attentions to tryouts and position claiming.  At the request for volunteers, Mairead's hand shot straight into the air.  Broom in hand, she approached the sixth year.  "What do I need to do?" Mairead asked, with just enough of a desperate and determined air to make it clear Raine could ask for anything.  Anything.  She could ask Mairead to dismantle and rebuild the castle stone by stone and Mairead would have done so.  Gladly.  Twice over. 

She should have suspected just as much.

Raine watched Mairead come forward almost immediately; oh if but only the second year would raise her hand so eagerly in her lessons, perhaps tutoring would be less of a chore for the both of them.  "What do I need to do?" the girl asked and her intent was clear. Seeker was the position she sought and she would get it, one way or another.

"Alright..." Raine gave her housemate an appraising look as she paused to consider the task. A small light of respect glimmered in her eyes, smothered by more analytical qualities. Not giving Mairead a challenging enough venture... well, that woud seem nothing short of insulting.

"We can muti-task," the Keeper finally answered and lifted her foot off the holding box; it began to shake again. "I will release a Snitch for you to catch. And, the bludger." At its mention, the ball inside the box thumped against its restraints and it shook again.

Just as eager to play as the rest of them, no doubt. Raine indicated towards Josh and Tynan with her own broom. "You two keep it off of her," she gestured at the assemblage of supplementary brooms and bats she had dragged out of the locker rooms earlier. "The rest of us will attempt to distract Mairead, so aim it towards Collins or myself." A smile interrupted her businesslike air. "Preferably Collins," she added: "On your brooms when you're ready and I'll let the chest loose."

---

This was it!  A year of practicing with Grace had led up to this and Mairead couldn't have felt more ready.  She was up in the air, on her broom, her eyes scanning the air around her for any flicker of gold and her ears straining for the faintest sound of a whistling bludger.  Their Captain and Collins were going to do their best to thwart her with distractions.  But, while she didn't really know Harcroft very well (and, he still was a prefect), she trusted Tynan enough to watch her back. 

It ... this was brilliant.  From her broom, Mairead could feel the wind increasing from the brewing weather and it's breath was amplified by her forward motion.  Already, she could feel cold, fat raindrops pelting against the back of her neck as she bent over her broom but it would take far more than a little rain to discourage her. 

But, rain had one distinct disadvantage.  It did have the annoying habit of muffling sounds, making it easier for bludgers to sneak up on her.  Mairead glanced around, caught sight of Harcroft and Tynan then leaned further over her broom as she circled the pitch. 

Apparently Almasy didn't like his half-baked and poorly cast concealment charm and amazing entrance, because she decided he was better suited to be dragged off his broom and thrown face first into the Quidditch Pitch.

"Oof!" Erik rolled himself over has he pulled himself upright, maybe this sport should have helmets. His wide goggled eyes focused on Raine as she listed out instructions for them to follow and as he got his broom thrown back into his lap.

The short ragamuffin Gryffindor stood up to look at his prefect, and then turned his head to each of his housemates, then back to Almasy, a fidgeting routine he repeated until Raine finally finished speaking and they all mounted their brooms, "Why am I always the one who gets beat up?" Erik grumbled loudly has he rose with Raine and others.

Then, a surprising question erupted forth from Erik Collins, "How am I suppose to distract her?" Yes. Erik Collins was at a loss for causing mayhem and confusion. Sometimes the boy was just a bit thickheaded.