---

Weather: Rainy and cold; 5°C / 41°F

The announcer's voice blared cut through the wind, setting the stage for the very important game that was about to begin.

"Gryffindor and Slytherin head into one of the final matches of the season before the cup neck and neck!  Slytherin is at the top of the league with 570 and Gryffindor only 60 points behind with 510.  This is Slytherin's last match - they need to take home the snitch tonight or risk losing their spot in the finals.  Gryffindor will have one more game before this is over, and Ravenclaw will have two.  It's all on the line!

At their last match up, things went so madly wrong that the match was eventually called zero zero!  So will we finally find out which team is better?  Game on!"

Madam Hooch stood at center pitch with the two captains and had a few stern words.  "Play it clean," she told Almasy and Slant.  "Show us what you can do."

Then, in short order, all was made ready.  Both teams were in the air, the balls were released and the game had begun!

---

The match has begun!  Captains, please post your roster on your first post.  Remember, posting order isn't so important as keeping the thread moving along.  Clearly post your actions and highlight the balls when you interact with them.

Have fun!

Figaro was in the stands and at the microphone!  As editor of the Howler, he'd elbowed his way into the box and in front of the microphone.  Just as a silencing charm was his bane, a loudspeaker was his spirit animal.  He'd listened to so many quidditch matches in his young life, he felt he knew just how to do it justice.

"And the balls are loose! Last chance to find Deus Deres and place your bets.  Erm, not that he's doing that! Because that would be wrong, ladies and gentlemen, totally against school policy!

But this is going to be anybody's game.  The Slytherin Beaters have a reputation on and off the pitch of wrecking havok, but Gryffindor's scrappy little Seeker is 3 and 0 this season.  Also, can't help but remind everyone that Raine Almays is a creature of amazing destruction, so look out for that.

And oh! that's a hard hit to start things off...!"

Mairead stalked out onto the field, a dark look of determination in her eyes.  She was here to fly and she was here to win.  Anyone who stood in her way risked getting bowled over by a pint-sized second year. 

The Gryffindor Seeker mounted her broom, kicked off the ground and fixed her attention on the crate of balls.  The bludgers rocked off on their way but Mairead only had eyes for the snitch.  The latch on the snitch was released and Mairead watched as fluttery gold ball took off and darted through the air.  The second year tried to follow the snitch as long as she could but the low, drab grey clouds worked against her.  Within seconds the ball was lost in the gloom. 

Hooch tossed the quaffle into the fray and Mairead took off into the rain, streaking off in the direction the snitch had darted.  The rain beat against her as she flew a high circuit.  As of yet, there was no sign of the snitch.

[Beater]

Xavier was up on his broom the moment the whistle sounded and took off into the air. He had a tight grip on his Beater's Bat, having been tempted to charm it to stick to his glove, the last thing he needed in this weather was to lose grip on it. He circled the pitch squinting through the rain to catch sight of the deadly little blighters. It wasn't long before one started zipping straight for him. He pulled back and gave it a whack shooting the Bludger towards the nearest streak of Red. If the din of Figaro's voice in the distance was any indication he had hit his target.

---

Any chasers feel like taking the hit, go for it, or it could always hit an NPC, or considering the rain Fig may have thought it hit and it didn't

Keeper

Sometimes, Erin loved playing quidditch.  It gave her something to talk about with her elder sister if nothing else.  Other times, she wondered if she failed a wisdom check.  It was cold and rainy, and eventhough there was enough equipment on her that she did not get anything wet, she knew that the houselves were going to be busy preventing this equipment from mildewing after this match.  The match had not yet started yet so Erin gave a thumbs up to the rest of her team and lazily circled around the hoops a few times.

The she heard the man say that the balls were live and that it was the last chance to place bets.  While she wasn't  sure about the former, the latter meant that the time had come to get their act together.  Then again, it was difficult to see in this weather.  She just hoped she sort of saw quaffle before they shot it.  Otherwise this would be one long match.  It was eerily quiet for a quidditch pitch.  For a second, she thought she was on a library not an outdoor arena.

"GUYS- ITS A PITCH NOT A LIBRARY.  TALK" she yelled, wondering how else they would coordinate in this weather.

Keeper, Captain

There was one benefit to playing Slytherin in a Quidditch game - nobody required a pep talk.

Raine Almasy, hovering restlessly along the row of hoops at her end of the pitch, briefly eyed their Seeker through the shower. The weather had made it necessary to bundle up but she'd been careful about it; too many layers would slow her down. Better sick with a cold later than to lose now.

The fact that she and Slant were good friends made the Keeper feel especially competitive today. Moreso than usual, she thought with a grim smile just moments before glancing away from Mairead. That's when she saw it: the Bludger, a smudge of colour in the wan downpour, struck hard against a Gryffie Chaser[1]

Quick as a cat, Raine dropped her smile and made a noise of infuriation as the Quaffle fell from her teammate, hurtling downwards . Ripe for the taking.

---

Team Roster

+ Raine Almasy (Keeper)
+ Joshua Harcroft (Beater)
+ Ambrose Pepper (Beater)
+ Walton Dodd (Chaser)
+ Aaron Doyle (Chaser)
+ NPC (Chaser)
+ Mairead ó Fearghail (Seeker)

1.	Either of the Chasers can pick this up, or assume it's the NPC.

[ Beater, Captain ]


With a faint, shark-like grin, Gracie kicked off the ground, a streak of Slytherin green as the teams took to the air. Playing against Gryffindor was always fun– thrilling, even– but ever since becoming captain the Slytherin found herself even more restless, more excited than usual. Nerves thrummed under her skin, making breaths come shallow, her tongue darting along dry lips –but rather than instill a sense of panic it energized; there was more at stake now than before (though realistically she knew that any loss today would have less than a sting than one would have to, say, Hufflepuff).

And so she flew, eyes sharp behind sturdy goggles, braid trailing behind her like a comet’s tail. Fiercely she grinned at Tawse’s hit, and crowed when it made its target. “SHUT UP, DARK,” she laughed, when she was near enough to be heard, but there was little to suggest a bite in her tone. Drawing close to Xavier and keeping up with him, she hollered, “I’ll stick to defense!” and zipped away—heading for a Slytherin chaser[1] to do just that.

Keeping an eye on one, Gracie spotted a Bludger racing towards them and rushed to intercept it. Lifting her bat, she waited—waited—waited–

–and smashed it with a CRACK, sending it hurtling in Mairead’s direction.

1.	Feel free to fill in, or leave as an NPC!

Seeker

Mairead was generally not one to be bothered by the weather.  She'd spent her share of cold, blustery nights out on the road and was more than accustomed to being cold and wet.  Certainly, some small amount of discomfort wasn't about to come between her and an opportunity to crush those Slytherins. 

So, the seeker crouched low against the topline of her broom as she weaved through the rain, balls and other players.  All she wanted was to catch a glimpse of that sparkling gold. 

After all, there were only two ways this game would end: with the Gryffindors trudging up to the tower like a bunch of defeated, half-drowned alley cats or they'd invade the common room in all their drenched, muddy, victorious glory.  That there could be any other option hadn't occurred to the second year until she heard the distinctive whistle of an oncoming bludger. 

The bludger's approach had been muffled by the weather so by the time she'd heard the ball, it was nearly upon her.  There wasn't enough time to consider the bludger's path, the Gryffindor only had time to react.  She pulled the nose of the broomstick up, shooting skyward just as forced her broom to slow.  The maneuver had saved her from a game-ending collision but the bludger still managed to connect squarely with her inside foot. 

"Damnú ort![1]" she shouted at the closest Slytherin, without any idea whether they'd sent the bludger her way.  With a growl, she pushed the pain in her foot to the back of her mind and pushed forward. 

1.	Irish for 'damnation on you.'

The play was already heavy on the bludgers with no chance for the Quaffle to stay actively in play.  Hooch ran her pattern, following the ebb and flow of the student players - keeping out of the way but a close on on the action.

At this point, the quaffle is loose, and the bludgers are free.

"Oh! And Slant is merciless against the teenie weenie Gryffindor Seeker! What a monster!"  Figaro scolded gleefully.  "But she's still mounted, that Mairead ó Fearghail! Good on her.  And it looks like there's a petition going around Hufflepuff to have Slant kicked off the pitch! Shame on you, Gracie!"

It was all senseless talk, because despite the heated play everyone was playing fair.  Probably only because Tawse had just gotten started...!

Erin still couldn't see much of the pitch.  She had heard that the beaters were unleashing a smackdown on the other team, but with the visibility like it was, she actually couldn't do much back here.  So she was flying in front of the hoops, searching for the quaffle.  Unfortunately, the quaffle was not easily seen amidst the mass of swirling red and green.  She idly wondered if they should play this match at christmas, since it might give her an opportunity to wear a green santa outfit or something.  She wondered if Slant would be up for a photoshoot before the match.  Speaking of which they were still in one.  And it seemed like their chasers were extremely lazy. 

"Chasers, grab that quaffle please.  It's almost polite how long its waited for you to pick it up," Erin yelled.

beater

Josh had been flying to intercept the bludger heading for Mairead, but failed to get there in time. chuckling at what Mairead had shouted, he called to Mairead "Sorry about that! couldn't catch up to the thing quick enough!" hitting the bludger at the nearest figure in green.

Our chasers seem to be delayed, so in the interest of keeping the quaffle from hitting the grass, I shall move some things along.  I've flipped a coin to give Slytherin control to start.

As the bludger play continued, and the seekers furiously sought, the chasers had begun their work.

Slytherin was the first to take true control of the Quaffle since Gryffindor had lost it to a beater at the start.  But Slytherin's chasers had to be spry because Gryffindor's defense wouldn't allow them to clear a charge to the hoops. Slytherin passed the ball tightly and finally found a hole.

The announcer's voice rang out calling the action.  "And a shot on goal! Wake up, Gryffindor! Game on!"

But with the attention on the shot, only an attentive Seeker would have caught it.  A glitter of gold near the sand at the base of Slytherin's hoops...

[ Beater, Captain ]



Disappointed her hit hadn’t quite made its mark, Gracie nevertheless flipped the Hufflepuff off cheerfully– and smoothly fell into a roll, when a bludger seemed to come out of nowhere, slow enough to see but at an angle too awkward for her to catch. Rolling upright again, the Beater zipped away, Figaro and Mairead already forgotten. If Figaro thought she’d go easy on the second year, then he was announcing for the wrong sport.

Maybe she’d see if he’d be willing to repeat that to her face.

Drawing her broom up sharply, Gracie raced toward Joshua’s bludger, determined to get it before it made an impact. Below her– around her– the stadium blurred into a stretch of sand and sky and red and green, and then–

There.

CRACK.

Headed off by her swing, the bludger soared away. Lips curling in vicious satisfaction, Gracie looked up just in time to see the Chaser make his throw–

"Goal!" 

Figaro's voice rang through the stands, barely audible above the roar of Slytherins' supporters. 


"Oh, that's rough...!"  Despite supposing to be impartial, it was clear that Figaro had something riding on Gryffindor coming out strong.  Or it could just be his strange admiration for Raine Almasy...

"And Gryffindor recovers and the Chasers are forming up.  Going to take some bludgers to bust up a phalanx like that."

EDIT: I accidentally recorded the score for the wrong team - Slytherin had possession, so Slytheirn scored.  My bad! Thanks, Sly