Welcome to the match! Players and spectators welcome! Anyone who wishes may take up the role of Quidditch announcer.  Players - no need to stick to posting order and perish any worries you might have about post length! Play fair and move the game along! Feel free to NPC any missing players on your team.  Good luck!

The stands were packed with what seemed to be every single person student or otherwise that walked Hogwarts's halls,  nearly everyone decked out in either red or green.  They waved banners and scarves, they sang cheers, they stomped their feet on the wooden bleachers threatening to topple the old, rickety observation towers.  The hoops were polished, the grass was a striking bright green. 

Everything was ready for the 2010 Hogwarts Quidditch cup!

All through the year the four house teams had been vying to come out on top, wracking up snitch catches and running up their quaffle scores - all for the change to bring glory and honor by beating out all others and claim the Quidditch Cup.  An ages-long rivalry had won out and the match would be between houses Gryffindor and Slytherin.  Gryffindor had become known for their daring and bravery on the pitch this season, while Slytherin their sharp attacks and busy bludgers.  What a match it would be!

Madam Hooch strode out to center pitch were the trunk was waiting.  Her white and black robes were as clean and vibrant as a magpie's plummage, her goggles and whistle polished to shining.  Her shock-white hair seemed even more pointy than usual. 

The teams were still in their locker rooms.  With a grin, she decided to give them a few more minutes to rile up, a few more minutes for the crowd's impatience to hit a frenzy.  What fun!

"We're gonna pounce Slytherin!" 

Mairead stood with her fellow teammates in the Gryffindor locker, broom in hand.  She'd suffered through two years of school for this very moment!  For her first, honest, Quidditch Cup game.  All the studying, all the hours wasted in class had been for this.  The fact they were playing Slytherin was icing on the cake. 

The young Gryffindor Seeker's uniform was clean, crisp and neater than her school robes had ever looked.  She twirled her goggles in one hand and bounced on the soles of her feet, eager for the action to start. 

"What's the plan, Captain?"  Mairead asked, grinning at her fellow teammates.  "Are we goin' for the head or the tail first?"

Ariadne had her broom slung over her shoulder, worrying for a brief moment about any bristles out of place before she caught wind of Mairead's question.

"We're going for the bit between the legs of course," she joked with a wink to the younger witch, "Slytherin think we're doing the drills we've been doing, remember, so it's all fake."

Ari was playing chaser[1] for the final and despite her jokes, her stomach felt like it was doing backflips and she wanted to burp, or be sick or something to get rid of the feeling, even though it was just her nerves.

"Either way, we're going to win this!"

1.	Roster showed that the chasers are a couple of long inactives, so I figured I'd step in[/wiki]

Erin was hyper.  Not that was unusual.  Dressed in (what had become) a standard quidditch outfit, she lazily carried her broom in one arm.  Looking like the model that she was, she decided to open with some encouragement for her team.

"Gryffindors waste ninety percent of their galleons on pranks and candy.  Lets make them waste the other ten percent betting on their team," Erin grinned.  She was in an exceptionally good mood.  Last time she had managed to hold Gryffindor to a shut out, even though they did wind up catching the snitch.  Whether that confidence was well placed or idiotic had yet to be seen. 

Raine, tying back her fiery locks, snorted at Ariadne's rejoinder to their Seeker's enthusiasm. It made her smile. Slant would like that: right between the legs. But now wasn't the time to rhapsodise about the intimate proclivities of her Slytherin playmate. They had a game to face and almost everyone in the locker room suffered the same, competitive exhilaration. They were flying to win.

"Listen up," she lowered her goggles and adjusted them snugly.  "Play well and stay on your brooms. If you can't dodge the Bludger then keep a bloody mile between yourselves and Whitman." Also sound advice about Theo off the Quidditch pitch. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do. Id est: show them no mercy because they''re giving you none."

A pause. The Gryffindor Captain hauled herself up from the benches and affected an air of seriousness. Underneath, she was smirking.

"Today. Today... At the edge of our hope, at the end of our time, we have chosen not only to believe in ourselves, but in each other." Raine picked up her broomstick, thumping its handle on the floor once for emphasis. "Today there is not a wizard nor witch in here that shall stand alone. Not today."

Several of the reserve players exchanged glances with one another, confused by the familiarity of these words.[1] Raine cleared her throat while lifting her chin theatrically. "Today we face the monsters that are at our door and bring the fight to them!" A grand gesture to the stairs that led up on to the pitch. "Today, we are cancelling the Quidditch game!"

Wait.

"No. Winning. Today we are winning the Quidditch game," she bit her lower lip in a lame attempt to stifle a smile. "Nevermind. Let's get out there and be Gryffindors."

1.	Super cheeky time defying reference to Pacific Rim

Her own nerves thrumming with excitement – the possibility of victory buoying her breath – Gracie was in just that good a mood to merely shoot the Keeper a grin, one sharp and amused but far from mean. “Shut up, Dark,” she huffed, shoving at the fourth year’s face gently. “Last words are my prerogative.”

But it was as good a start as any, as far as sentiment went, and so the sixth year turned towards the others, that grin of hers warming. “Right then,” she began, taking a step back to better view them. “Line up, lemme look at you guys.” They were a positively motley crew, compared to the near-uniform sleekness of the team back in fall, and had gone through more than a few changes since then—not all of them, perhaps, for the better. But in the end… They’d found a rhythm of sorts. Maybe it wasn’t what anyone would call smooth, by any stretch of the imagination, but it was theirs, and it worked.

It was at least enough for her to look at the lot of them with something close to fondness, given the faces that were here, rather than the ones she wanted.

“Here we are at the end of the road,” she began dramatically, pacing before them in slow, dramatic steps, “facing our traditional, time-honored rivals for one of the greatest honors of our school. In less than an hour, aircraft from here…” Her face twitched, just a little, “will join others from around the world. And you will be launching the largest aerial battle in the history of Slytherin.” Dramatically she paused. “‘Slytherin’. That word should have new meaning for all of us today. We can’t be consumed by our petty differences anymore. We will be united in our common interests–”

And then, just as it seemed she was about to lose all sense of composure—Gracie stopped, expression twitching suspiciously before smoothing out, returning to its passion. “Perhaps it’s fate that we’re here, for that last game of the season, and you will once again be fighting for our freedom… Not from tyranny, oppression, or persecution…” She flung out a hand towards the stairs. “But from annihilation. We are fighting for our right to win. To exist. And should we win the day, today will no longer be known as Slytherin’s redemption, but as the day the world declared in one voice: ‘We will not go quietly into the night!’ We will not vanish without a fight! We’re going to live on! We’re going to survive! Today we celebrate… our Independence Day!”


Silence. Complete, utter silence.


And then: a snort of poorly stifled laughter.


“Let’s just get out there and show ‘em what for, yeah?” she smirked, hefting her Beater’s bat onto a shoulder.

Slytherin | Chaser

Xavier stood in the locker room with his polish broom slung over his shoulder, the Wentworth Family crest at the end of the broom shimmered in the low light. Unlike his team mates he wasn't nervous or anxious about the upcoming game. He had managed to live through Slytherin winning the Quidditch Cup the previous year and he'd help them do it again this year. For the final match of the season he was to be a Chaser. The only position he hadn't played so far was Seeker, which had been occupied by Erin Harper for as long as he had been playing. His only regret was that he didn't have Strellie or Kitty backing him up, instead he'd have to make due with O'Doherty and Morrell. At least Slant and Whitman would be good enough to keep the bludgers off them, even if Casey or Esther didn't manage to make a single goal. He glanced over at the pair of fourth years, had they even held the quaffle before?

A wry smirk curled his lips as Gracie went off on her little tirade. He had no idea what the girl was babbling about but it seemed to be working for the rest of the team. She had enthusiasm, he'd give her that. That wasn't something you easily got from Harper or Knight, though neither were long winded pep talks that had nothing to do with Quidditch. He stifled a snigger when she was done and gave her a sloppy salute.

Xavier walked out of the pitch and mounted his broom waiting for Hooch's signal to take off.

Slytherin | Chaser

Somehow, not only had Slytherin made it to the final match, Casey was not immediately injured or under the weather in some extent that he could actually play. For however long. He'd made it to a Cup match, one goal of many started some time ago as he had pushed to strengthen himself with broom flying. And now...

That adage about wanting rather than having was proving true. Great to be here but Casey was not sharing the same atmosphere of competition driving his colleagues. Enough that his eye roll at these ridiculous speeches was not even hidden.

Still, being part of a winning term would earn some acclaim. For and with whom Casey could no longer answer, trapped under bulky protective gear.

And the time had come!  Madam Hooch summoned the teams to the pitch and they streamed into the air in streaks of emerald and crimson.  The crowds only roared louder!  Hooch met the captains mid-pitch and regarded both captains sternly.

"I want a clean game, witches.  Let's give them a show!"

She ended her statement with a rare smile and set a hand on their shoulders.  "Congratulations."

And with that, she sent them off to the sky.

First the bludgers, then the snitch (who checked in cheekily with both seekers, fluttering their noses), and finally the Quaffle tossed high in the air!

Fweeeeeeeeet!

Game on!

To discover that Casey was on the other team was Christmas come in May for Ambrose who never got on with the Slytherin. Even when he'd tried to show some compassion and pull Casey from the lake, O'Doherty's boyfriend, Norling had got in the way.

Swinging round his beater's bat he managed to hold his balance on the broom which bucked as his overenthusiastic kick off from the pitch had backfired. One of the bludgers came flying straight for him and he swung his bat at it with gusto, sending it straight at Casey, looking far too happy about it.

And they were off! Ariadne's heart was in her mouth as she raced towards the quaffle, fighting with the other chasers on the opposing team. The crowd roared as the two teams set off for the final, even the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were in on the act, rooting for one or the other house - being beaten by the eventual winners was less shame after all.

There was a scrum in midair - Ariadne swore, came plummeting out of the battle on her broom and swung round, ramming herself into the side of one of the Slytherin chasers in a fight to seize control, her elbows out. Slytherins played dirty and so would she!

Somehow the quaffle fell out of hands and she was upon it, racing towards the goal posts.

Gryffindor Seeker

The youngest Gryffindor on the team mounted her broom and kicked up off the ground.  The giddy, anticipatory excitement that had permeated the locker room moments ago had mellowed and settled into a quiet, calm, bulldog determination.  She had one task.  One goal in mind.  Get that bloody, mother-of-a-featherless-peacock snitch before those snakes snatched it up.  She'd leave the rest of the game in the very capable hands of Gamp, Almasy, Pepper and all the other Gryffindors. 

Goggles rammed firmly into place, Mairead gained altitude until she was a level above the keeper hoops.  She circled the lot of them, her eyes scanning for any flicker or reflection.  It was a perfect day for snitch catching; just enough sun to reflect off the flighty ball as it darted around the pitch.

NPCing 3rd Chaser: 5th Year Mario Pittwick - can be easily subbed out if a played character besides Gamp and Harcroft joins!
Somewhere far below her, Mario spotted Gamp making a beeline for the goal hoops.  He leaned down over his broom, following her, doing his best to intercept any Slytherins that were trying to impede his teammates' progress. 

[ Beater, Captain ]


Shooting Raine a wink – and their ever timeless coach a jaunty salute – Gracie mounted her broom and kicked off, spearheading her team into the sky.

And true to form, the action had begun as soon as they had all taken off; a race had begun for the quaffle, the bludgers swinging towards brooms and people with their usual malice. A grin arced across Gracie’s face, wide, free and uninhibited. As much as she admired Gryffindor’s team under Raine’s reignleadership, this was the Quidditch Cup—and Gracie wanted to win.

It was for that reason alone that she’d bothered with Whitman at all.

Catching his eye, she nodded; they split. Wheeling off into a sharp U-turn for the Slytherin goals, Gracie shot ahead, robes flapping behind her. As Morrell tailed her closely – only to split a short distance away – the captain readied her bat, annnnnnnnnd–


CRACK!  A bludger hurtled towards Gamp’s face!

[ Beater ]


After one last talk with Slant (–who, amusingly, had seen fit to remind him “don’t kill anyone, for the love of Merlin, please”), Theo, too, took to the sky.

With a cold, clinical cast to them, blue eyes scanned the air—the mind behind them whirring away, noting placement, speeds, and even mannerisms from a distance. It was a kind of thinking he was used to, even when he was only dealing with people. Up here, the only difference could be found in speed, and for the brilliant prefect it wasn’t even all that fast– particularly when relationships played a far more significant role in actions than people ever realized.

Letting the Gryffindor Chasers continue without chase, Theo instead headed for Ambrose instead. Seemingly appearing out of nowhere, the sixth year Beater intercepted—cracking the bludger back Ambrose’s way.

The one nice thing about quidditch was there was always something going on.  From her vantage point on the pitch, she had a generally good view of the action, which was good because she got bored easily.  Though there was a bright and shiny object somewhere on the pitch, she did not have to look for it.  She simply had to contend with blocking a giant red quaffle.  Fortunately for Erin's ADD mind, that red object was usually moving fast enough to keep her attention.  She could deal with that. 

"Chasers, look alive - we've got two coming in hot.  Put some pressure so they can't take clean shots.  Slant, Whitman - I'm loving those bludgers" Erin yelled.  It was nice having upperclassman on the team.  Partiuclarly reliable ones like their beaters.   After playing for a couple of years, Erin was also finally starting to acquire enough experience to give advice and start acting more like an upper classman herself.

"Come on chasers, don't let the beaters hog all the show.  Follow up on those bludgers," Erin strongly suggested.