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It was Friday afternoon and classes were out for the day.  The stands were filled with colors of scarlet and blue and the air was abuzz with excitement.  Not only was this the first Quidditch match of this season's Hogwarts Quidditch Cup, but it was the first match that would be host to the visiting students and professors of Salem, Durmstrang and Beauxbatons.  It promised to be a celebration of Hogwarts tradition and an event that all could get behind - a reprieve from the stress and excitement of the Tournament so far, an afternoon of raw sport!

This year, Hooch had placed more power in the hands of the Quidditch captains than she had in a long time.  And from some reports, it had turned out well for both Gryffindor and Ravenclaw.  Historically both houses lended themselves well to teamwork and organization (respectively) so Hooch was confident they'd each make a good showing under captains Raine Almasy and Peyton Wentworth.

Hooch strode out to center pitch on foot, broom at her side.  She wore robes of white and black, and goggles resting on her head.  She was more than 90-years-old and commanded the entire field from turf to cloud with the ease of a witch who'd done just so for decades.

The trunk of the game balls was already in center pitch.   She approached it and then stood before it, hands on her hips, and waited for the appointed hour.

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OOC:  Captains, please post your starting rosters and notify your team!  The scene begins about ten minutes before the match so feel free to post your entrances in the locker rooms or coming out onto the pitch.  I will post the start of the match in due time.   Go Quidditch!

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Most of the team were preparing for the match in the locker rooms below but Raine, being her more-than-punctual self, had gone ahead and emerged on to the pitch after giving the players a quick word. Nothing inspirational or noteworthy... simply words of caution. Ravenclaw might have been known for its bookworms but there were no certainties in Quidditch. She once had a sister in that house; they weren't to be underestimated.

Clad from head to toe in house colours, the redhead strolled out on to the green field with her goggles pushed back against fiery curls and a broom in hand (the best that money could buy, naturally). It was a bright day: excellent visibility but not so clear that the sun would blind the flyers.

"Madam Hooch," Raine courteously greeted the witch when she had reached the center, unable to help the smile pulling at her lips. The smile that was nothing but a symptom of the exhilarated, competitive beat of her heart. They weren't perfect and Merlin knew if they were ready but it didn't matter because today, instead of reading or planning or practicing or studying, they were finally playing Quidditch.

Or at least they would be soon anyway. The Gryffindor allowed herself a glance upwards at the crowded stands-- gaze landing immediately on the red and gold banners of her housemates; shades that stood out in her eyes against all others. Win or lose, there was team spirit behind them.

---

Peyton moved forward through the Ravenclaw locker room. He shared a smile with Alex glad that she was on his team and that she was becoming more and more of a close friend to him as the days passed. He couldn't have gotten through his OWLs last term without her and he couldn't imagine getting through the first months of school without her either. Before he made his way to the front of the tent he patted Alvis on the shoulder and gave the younger man a reassuring smile. He knew he was nervous about the match but Peyton had been putting them through hell to get to this match and the young Raven had powered through with the rest of the team. Peyton had no doubt he'd do well today even if he didn't believe so himself.

He stopped just at the entrance to the pitch and nodded to his team, "I know I've been rough and a bit of a tosser the last few weeks but this is what we've trained for, this is what we were made for. It's our time now and no Lion is going to bring us down!" It wasn't long or poetic or even history making but it was the truth and it was all he had to say. He knew he had a good strong team behind him and he was ready to show the whole school just what Ravenclaws were made of.

Peyton pulled back the flap on the tent and marched out onto the pitch, Phoenix clutched tightly in his hand. He nodded to the matron of the Pitch, "Madam Hooch." Then turned to face Raine extending his padded hand, "Good luck then, Almasy."

Tynan gripped his broom, his hands covered in the thick leather of a Beater's armor and his eye focused on the box before Madame Hooch. They'd been practicing, yes, and as he'd found he had a pretty strong swing with the bat - though his aim was lacking, to no one's surprise. It frustrated him, of course, but what could he do?

He tossed the bat, catching it as he steadied his broom. His summer escapades had come in handy once again; while he'd ridden brooms before, his month of riding one non-stop in all sorts of weather had certainly improved his ability to stay on and be comfortable.

Not that the older school broom he was on was the equal of the expensive racing broom he'd had this summer. It shook violently when brought up to speed and its bristles tended to fall out a bit too readily than was reassuring. He silently hoped a Bludger got it, just so he had an excuse to knock someone out and take one of the nicer ones.

He glanced at Mairead, giving her a subtle nod and - rarely for him - a slight smile. Up in the air there wasn't much to say - not that Tynan was the talkative sort, really - but it'd have to do. And damn the rules, if one of the Ravenclaw's Beaters hurt Mairead, this was going to get ugly.

Mairead was beaming. 

She couldn't remember a time when she felt more excited or more elated.  This day was nearly fifteen months in the making - every class, every minute of homework was endured for no other reason than enabling this moment.  She had sneaked on the pitch last year with the Hufflepuff team but even that excitement paled in comparison to standing there, in full Gryffindor regalia, gripping her broom in her hand. 

And, they were playing Ravenclaw.  Ravenclaw!  The house that, in Mairead's mind, were their arch rivals.  Well, her arch rivals, at least - thanks to Rene and her brainy clan.  Mairead let her gaze flicker over the blue-clad, knowledge-y marinated faces. 

The second year was, easily, the smallest figure on the quidditch pitch - both in height and build.  But, she took a deep breath, inflated her chest and glanced towards Madam Hooch with a broad grin.  The energy in the crowd above them was contagious and Mairead rocked anxiously on the balls of her feet, adrenaline surging through her system as she waited for the go ahead. 

Mairead looked towards Tynan and returned the nod, still grinning broadly.  She trusted, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Tynan would watch her back.  As such, she was willing to focus more of her attention on finding the snitch and leave more of the worrying about bludgers to others. 

The captains of the team approached, regal Raine Almasy, and stand-up lad Peyton Wentworth.  "Captains," she said, nodding in return.  The teams from both sides were all a mix of players both experienced and new - Hooch hadn't seen the final rosters before this morning and looking over the teams now she could see that it was going to be a strange match.  Skills were a very important factor in the game, but so was the ability to eye the pitch that only came with experience.  To see the lay of the air above the feild, see patterns forming, and then understand where to be at the right time.

"Good clean season opener, understand?  I want solid Quidditch from everyone and let's try and do without the gore," she said.  Even though her voice was stern and raised to speak in the open air and stiff breeze, it was clear she was in a good mood and ready to begin.

From her pocket she withdrew a large gold galleon, and readied it in her hand.  "Almasy, call it in the air."

With that, she flicked the coin into the air.  It didn't just come back down to to Hooch's waiting hand; instead, it spun around a few times, streaked back and forth in an energetic zig-zag, and did a few loop-de-loops.  Raine would have plenty of time to pick heads or tails before it finally landed back in her hand.  Hooch snapped her fingers shut and then flipped the coin over to lay on the back of her hand.  She moved her hand away to reveal the call.

"Choose your side.  North or South."[1]

1.	Whoever wins the toss can pick.  Let's say the breeze is coming from the north, a sweet autumn zephyr!

"I think I'm going to be sick."

Standing in the door to the locker room, Alvis wavered, stumbled, and propped himself up with his broom. There were so many people here, holding banners and staring eagerly down at the field as the players congregated for the game. He'd never seen so many faces looking his way. Did the whole school come out for these things?

...That was a stupid question.

The real thing to ask was, how the hell did he get himself into this mess? If he thought about it, he could trace the answer -- first, Professor Trishna had hinted that the team needed new members, so Alvis had signed up for try-outs. Second, he'd actually shown up for try-outs to find that only he and one other person had signed on for Keeper, the position his dad'd played. And then third, he'd flown, and for whatever reason, Wentworth decided to place him.

At least, he assured himself, he wasn't going in completely blind. He'd gone to every practice and every planning session. He'd run over game-plans in the common room, especially during his long nights accompanying Sasha's studies. He'd spent a whole weekend working with Philo Falkin on trigonometric calculations he could use to predict the path of a thrown Quaffle. And he had his broom, the refurbished Comet 300 sent to him by his grandfather. He was prepared. That would be enough. He hoped.

Gulping, he followed the rest of the team out onto the pitch and gave the referee a very slight bow as he settled quietly in beside them, watching the coin toss.

The Ravenclaw Quidditch team's appearance dissatisfied Alex. Blue was a good colour, and they did look quite professional, with matching robes, shiny brooms, and vaguely similar heights. They just didn't look intimidating, which was somehow disappointing- although considering that Norling and Sasha were on the team, there had never really been much chance of that. But still, looking intimidating would have been nice.

"Peyton, your inspirational speech was rubbish," Alex muttered before she followed him onto the pitch. Looking up at the stands, she identified a number of students enthusiastically encouraging Ravenclaw to win, as though they wanted to lose. Which meant that- although the thought made her wince- she was relying on Sasha, because despite unbelievable amounts of training, she still didn't think that Ravenclaw would be a hundred and fifty points up from Gryffindor by the time the snitch was caught.

Coming to a halt next to Norling, Alex nodded to Hooch, who she had never quite stopped being intimidated by. She gave Raine a grin, vaguely reminded of fencing, but with 6 other people on her side, large crowds watching, and brooms. So it wasn't really like fencing at all.

A glance at Norling reminded her of earlier threats of illness, which was not acceptable. She elbowed him and smiled. "Norling, you'll do fine. Now stop looking green, you're making me feel ill." Much as she wanted to make violent threats about failure, it wouldn't help. Although if they did loose- well, she didn't want to think about loosing, nor did she have any intention of doing so.

Sasha stood shortly behind Alvis and offered the fourth year an encouraging, although slightly awkward, pat on the shoulder.  Like Alvis, he'd joined the team his fourth year and he'd been just as gangly and scrawny at the time.  But, he had had the benefit of years of competition experience behind him; there were enough similarities between polo matches and quidditch matches that Sasha didn't recall looking nearly as nauseous as Alvis was right now. 

"Just keep your eye on the quaffle.  Keep an ear out for bludgers.  You'll be fine." 

Like Raine, his broom was the best money could buy.  Purchasing an upgrade over the summer had been much easier now that he didn't have to create some story about broken saddle trees to trick his parents into unwillingly purchasing a new flying broom.  And, glancing over the Gryffindor team, they had to have been one of the scraggliest bunches of misfits Sasha had seen on the quidditch pitch.  It almost seemed like Hogwarts was starting to admit Lost Boys from Never Never Land.  Or, those lost, feral, pig-eating kids from Lord of the Flies. 

A slightly unnerving image. 

But, one thing was clear, looking at the two teams.  While Gryffindor seemed to have ... ferality on their side, Ravenclaw had experience.  Alvis aside.  If they kept to their drills, did their best to keep the pressure off Alvis - oh, and if Sasha caught the snitch - they had a pretty solid chance. 

Raine shook hands civilly with Peyton, offerring him a quick and sporting smile before she turned in time to catch Madam Hooch's warning in regards to... gore. It took some measure of restraint not to turn around and give Tynan or Mairead a dubious look. If there were to be any violence on the pitch today, she suspected the pair of them would be implicitly involved. And she would have to watch from the limits of the Keeper zone.

"Heads," Raine hardly hesitated as her blue gaze shot to the galleon tossed up into the air; it glimmered brightly at its zenith and dropped back into the older witch's hand, where it was finally flipped and uncovered with practical grace.

Lady luck was on their side. Perhaps they'd need her today.

Better to have the wind in favour of her Chasers... Collins' throw was still slightly weak. "North side," she was already swinging her broom about to mounting angle. Raine glanced behind at her ragtag team of players, most who were already out and prepped for the match. "In positions. We're on the North end," the redhead repeated to them before twisting around again to give the other Captain a quick nod. "We'll see you in the air, Wentworth."

The goggles came down over her eyes-- Raine flashed a friendly but competitive grin at both Alex and Sasha before she climbed lithely onto her broom and kicked off.

The sides were chosen and the teams were getting on their brooms.  But Hooch had one final word to say, this time to the littlest Gryffindor, as the other players were getting into the air.

"Miss o Fearghail," she said with a firm voice and a light smile.  "No Hufflepuff robes today?  Glad to see you in red."

Hooch was very fond of the firecracker of a Gryffindor, Mairead o Fearghail.  She was a talented young rider, and didn't do well inside the castle.  She'd had such a rough first year of it, many had wondered if she'd even want to return.  But thankfully, she did and Hooch was diligent to catch a few words with her from time to time, just to make sure she was doing well, and give her opportunities to fly if possible.  And young Mairead was often a help to her in the equipment rooms and in small tasks around the pitch.  And so when she wasn't impersonating Hufflepuffs and playing illegally in matches, Hooch was quite fond.


But it was time to begin the match! 

As the teams took their positions, Hooch took hers.  She kicked open the trunk.  Inside the Quaffle sat calmly, and the bludgers rattled in their restraints.  She removed the snitch from its cage and held it up for all to see.  It's little wings unfurled and buzzed in Hooch's grip.

"The snitch is loose!"  She let if fly and with a glint it was gone. 

Next came the bludgers.  Hooch released them from their chains, and they shot out so quickly, even Hooch had to duck.    But now that the bludgers were loose, she could waste no time getting the Quaffle in the air.  She scooped it up, mounted her custom-made broom, and was in the air.

Whistle in her teeth, she tossed directly upward exactly at center pitch. 

Fweeeeeet!

And the match was on!


Please consider stating your characters actions clearly, and coloring the names of the ball your handling, and any character you engage with, so we don't miss anything.  It might be helpful to include your position at the start of your post as well.  Game on!

Erik had been floating alongside the other chasers, clad in red robes, and for once, for the teeniest tiniest moment in his life, Erik Collins was nervous. Maybe because he hadn't really remembered how he got onto the Gryffindor quidditch team in the first place, or how he was in a starter position, or maybe because practicing and playing an actual match was totally different. Whatever the case was, Erik was completely unprepared for the havoc that was Quidditch that would unfold.

The whistle was blown. The bludgers were flying back around. Erik watched the beaters and his teammates. Something was lobbed at him from the corner of his view--and, instinctively, he caught the quaffle.

Erik's eyes went wide, but before the boy could even register what had just happened, the whistling of a bludger was approaching him. The Gryffindor cringed and leaned against his broom, a trained reaction after taking one too many bludgers from Tynan, and then looked towards the goals with the blue Keeper.

With his thoughts in a scramble, Erik's mind was trying to communicate some intelligent action for Erik's body to take, but the boy did what came naturally to him when he was caught in a bind, he launched himself away from danger and to where he needed to be (Ravenclaw goals) with a loud and awkward yell:

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

"Hufflepuff game's in two weeks," Mairead replied simply to the Gryffindor coach.  After the slightest pause, a small smirk broke across the smallest Gryffindor's face before she scrambled on her broom. 

She wasn't being serious, of course, even though her loyalty to playing quidditch probably did out pace her loyalty to Gryffindor by just a smidge.  Not completely.  Now that she properly and officially belonged to her house team, victory was the ultimate goal. 

But, once astride the broom, Mairead's thoughts turned to nothing but the end goal: catching the snitch.  Hooch released the snitch from it's binds and Mairead followed the golden glitter as far as she could.  The snitch's initial path led it towards the southern end of the pitch but Mairead lost sight of the miniscule ball two thirds of the way down the pitch. 

The whistle blew and Mairead leaned over her broom, shooting up high above the pitch.  She headed towards the west side of the pitch, first, determined to make a sweep of the southern end of the pitch despite the likelihood of the snitch lingering for long down there being slim.  She heard Erik's yell from somewhere behind her but ignored it.  Unless it was a bludger headed her way or the snitch, she didn't care.  And, his voice was moving away from her - towards the Ravenclaw end the field. 

The whistle blew, and Tynan's bat was already firmly in his grip when the bludgers sailed upwards and into their midst, their odd, garbled sound echoing in his ears even as the roar of the crowds seemingly sought to drown it out. He tilted his broom forward, and as the teams shot off after the various balls, he shot off after one of the bludgers as the reds ball found a target.

The bludger ignored him, even as he closed in, the ball apparently having focussed on one of the Gryffindor chasers - not Erik, to his surprise, despite the amount of noise the boy was making. Tynan closed in, struggling for half a moment to get his bearings and aim -

He smashed his bat into the side of the bludger, aiming it off down the pitch and after the Ravenclaw chasers.

GAME ON!

Peyton was up in the air soon after the coin toss, leaning forward and waiting for the whistle. As soon as it was blown he darted forward on his broom heading towards the quaffle. He was only a split second too late to grab the red sphere before the Collins' boy caught it. He narrowed his eyes and did a quick and skillfull tail spin, bringing him up behind the younger Chaser and heading towards his own Goalpost.

As the kid screamed out Peyton tried to keep his focus. He hadn't been paying much attention to the other teams but now he was thinking perhaps he should have. It looked like Almasy was fielding the Rookie squad. At least 40% of their team looked to be second years, green around the gills but if Raine was confident enough to put them in the air there must have been a reason. Raw talent most likely, just rough around the edges. After all Peyton had started his own Quidditch career in his second year and look where he was now.

He was gaining on the younger chaser and was ready to check him when the tell tale squeal of a zooming bludger came up behind him. Raw talent, check. If there was anything he could count on from second year Gryffindors it was their ability to fight, which meant they'd be damn good Beaters.

Peyton pushed the tip of his broom throwing himself into a nosedive in order to avoid getting hit only minutes into the match, "Knight, eyes on the Bludger! Gryffs got good arms! Carstairs, Quaffle! Collins is panicked!" He shouted out to his team mates, rallying them in mid air.