Sebastian walked out onto the field, his eyes wandering over the stand and the goals. It had been over thirty years since he had played Quidditch. He could remember the school days when his house would be cheering for him to catch the snitch as a Seeker, and then roaring when he scored as a Chaser. It was exciting, the dives, rolling, hard banks to throw off Bludgers. The moments were some of his favorites as a child. No one judging, no one dying. Just fun.

He remembered the end of school when the scout from the Irish National Quidditch team approached him to be a Chaser for them. It was an amazing year, He had pulled off some now famous tricks, like the Chaser shuffle  where they all jumped and switched brooms all the while covering the fact that they had  passed the Quaffle. Or the one named after him, The Darkfall flip. Where he had flown with the Quaffle and then feinted a throw for the goal only to backflip and toss it to another chaser o take a shot. He could hear the crowds roar when he closed his eyes.

Those days were gone now, but yet here he was back at school barley a week as Head of Slytherin and a professor. And he was standing on the Pitch with a smile across is face

The initial lure of food had worn off and, with it, any excitement about being back at school had faded.  Lessons were, once again, insufferably difficult and Mairead had already earned one detention for helping Peeves hide a leaky dung bomb somewhere along the fourth corridor.  As they'd plotted, Peeves had moved the dung bomb to a new location while the various adults were scolding Mairead and, given the pungent aroma wafting from the dungeons, no one had managed to locate it, yet.  All in all, school had fallen into its usual difficult, repetitious patterns of struggles and routine missteps. 

Luckily, the school had its highlights: reliably consistent meals, an incredibly comfortable warm bed and quidditch.  And, Saturdays could be filled with nothing but those three things (as long as one ignored homework).  After an almost criminally long lay in, Mairead had gorged herself on sweets from the lunchtime tables and had darted out to the quidditch pitch. 

There were games to practice for and matches to win!

The quidditch pitch had been empty when Mairead had slipped into the Gryffindor locker room to change but it wasn't still that way when she stepped back out.  The exciting, blood-pounding, nose-bashing fun that was quidditch had been infiltrated.  By a Professor.  And, a Head of House.  Slytherin Head of House.  Could it get any worse?

"Ag fein truaillaithe tuilli!"[1] Mairead swore loudly, making no attempts to hide her annoyance.  Few of the professors seemed to understand Irish, anyway.  Even if he did, she could just switch to Cant.  What?  Professors couldn't get enough torturing of students during class?  They had to come after them in one of the few fun places at the school?  Clutching the broom Grace Eddy had given her during Mairead's first year at Hogwarts.  The broom had been outdated four years ago; by now, it was probably considered ancient.  But, it was Mairead's and she loved it.

"What?  Are ye holdin' the pitch for yer house team or some'at?"  Mairead asked, peering across at Darkfall.  That would totally ruin her day. 

1.	Irish slang translating to wanking bastard

It would be her luck that the new Slytherin Head of House spoke Irish.  She tucked that important information into the back of her mind for future use; she'd have to pick another language to offer 'constructive criticism' during class.  She was half-tempted to test the waters to further expand her knowledge, again, for future use.  Did he know Shelta?  What about talking to snakes? 

"Me mum's been telling me that for years," Mairead offered with a smirk.  "Hasn't worked for her."  It was, Mairead assumed, slightly more 'speaking-to-authority-figure-appropriate' then a simple, no. 

"We haven't had tryouts, yet," Mairead confessed.  "I don't think any team practices have been scheduled.  I was coming out to practice.  I don't think I've ever seen a professor out here just to fly."  If he wasn't holding the pitch for his team, that was the only other possible explanation.  As strange and farfetched as it might be. 

Unless... "Did you play?" 

Mairead adjusted the grip on her broom.  "ó Fearghail.  Mairead," she offered in response.  "I'm a fourth year Gryffindor.  I'm their Seeker.  Assuming I get back on the team."

Sebastian chuckled at her asking if he played. "You could say that. I was A Seeker for Slytherin, Then I became a Chaser. I even went pro for Ireland for a year after school." He walked over to her and offered his hand. "Professor of Potions, Sebastian Darkfall. It is a pleasure to meet you Mairead." He smiled at her waiting to see if she would take his hand, being sure to keep his Veela charm in check.

A flicker of interest showed in Mairead's face as the new professor admitted to being a former seeker and professional player.  For Ireland, nonetheless.  On one hand, it was cool to have a former quidditch professor.  On the other hand, Slytherin's Head of House had gone professional.  As if last year's champions needed another advantage. 

"Only for a year?"  She could be optimistic and think that that sole year was an indication that the professor wouldn't be as big of an advantage as their house might be hoping. 

An eyebrow cocked up as the professor extended a hand.  What had been intended as a friendly gesture was full of political ennui.  Mairead had a reputation to uphold.  Imagine if some Hufflepuff or the Ant Palace of Ravenclaw spotted her schmoozing up to a Head of House?  Her reputation would be tarnished.  But, she'd never actually started a school year on a professor's good side.  After a quick glance around to ensure the pitch was otherwise vacant, Mairead reached out to give the professors hand one single shake. 

"If anyone asked, that didn't happen," Mairead said, gripping her broom with both hands. 

Sebastian laughed. "Oh don't want people to know you shook hands with the wicked Syltherin Head do you? Well, I won't mention it. But so you know I don't hold anything against Gryffiondor save for a friendly competitive spirit. And yes I was only a Chaser for a year With Ireland, they wanted me for longer but I had other passions I wanted to peruse. I still enjoy the game and yes even miss the roar of the crowd. And I do get a thrill when I see my move being used by others. Have you ever seen the Darkfall flip?" He asked as he looked around the pitch eyes moving over the benched and goals

There were many reasons Mairead didn't want it to become common knowledge that she'd exchanged a handshake with the wizard; him being the wicked Slytherin Head of House was just one of them.  She would have elaborated on the reasons but the professor had wisely progressed to Quidditch-themed conversation. 

Slowly Mairead shook her head.  "I never seen a real ... professional Quidditch game," she admitted, quickly correcting her choice of terminology.  "Only house games."  And, for obvious reasons, she hadn't actually seen a good chunk of the Hogwarts games.  For many of them, she was in the midst of the action.  For a handful of others, she had been in detention.  "I ha'nt seen any of the advanced tricks, unless another house player used it."

The Gryffindor pursed her lips and shifted uncomfortably on her feet.  He wasn't going to make her ask, was she? 

Sebastian chuckled at her, He could tell something was eating at her but she hadn't asked it yet. He looked at her broom and studied it for a moment. "Looks like you treat your gear right then. How long you been on the Gryffindor team?" He asked and checked to make sure no one was watching, he wasn't sure why she was trying to keep it from being known she was talking to a professor but he would try and respect it.

Mairead's eyes narrowed and she glanced sideways at the broom in her hand.  She knew the broom was outdated by several years and probably had never been a top-of-the-line model to begin with.  But, it was hers.  And, likely, the only thing of any value she owned.  "'Course I do," she countered, with a shrug.  "I'm not likely t'get another one, after all.  I mean..."  Her voice trailed off and she shrugged. 

She was lucky to even have it in the first place. 

She was lucky to have food to eat and a bed to sleep in. 

"How long you been on the Gryffindor team?"

"Since me second year," Mairead offered.  It was the earliest they'd officially let her on the team.  Officially.  She offered a slight smirk.  "But, I borrowed some Hufflepuff uniforms and played on their team during my first year.  It was grand!"  Loyalty to quidditch had clearly come before loyalty to house. 

Sebastian nodded and looked at her broom, it was a few years old, he had noticed but she seemed somewhat embarrassed by this. "I may have heard a rumor about a Gryffindor breaking a few rules to play on another team, but I am sure That who ever that was would know as well that the broom doesn't win the game, the mind of the player does." He said and  pulled his wand. With a quick flick his broom came flying to him from where he kept it. He smiled looking over it. He had several brooms now. But he truly loved his father's silver arrow, and seeing on the field made him smile. "Take my broom for example, they don't even make them anymore, but it turns better than almost anything out there." He looked it over and then back to her. "I bet you haven't even heard of the old Silver Arrows have you?"

Mairead smirked, slightly, pleased he'd heard of her escapades but she shook her head when he asked if she had heard of a style of broom. 

"No," she admitted.  "I don't know a lot about different types of brooms; I just see the ones other students fly."  She knew the names of the fancy, expensive ones only because those were the ones classmates were more likely to identify by name.  "I'm not even sure what this one is.  I don't-"  She cut herself off, not wanting to voice that admission. 

"So.  This Darkfall lip.  It's a chaser move?"

Sebastian smiled.  "Yes it is a chaser move, it was really a luck that created it. I was heading straight for the goal. The Quaffle under my arm, I got in a good range and was about to toss it when I saw a Bludger coming up from below at a angle, it was to close to avoid so I yanked up on my broom, but I yanked to hard and ended up flipping over, Jess the other Chaser had  been tailing me and When I saw her I yelled and  tossed her the Quaffle, she pitched it through another goal since the Keep was already in position to block my throw." He could remember to roar the crowd had let out when they had done it, it had looked to all like a planned move. "We spent the next few practices making a lucky break into a skilled move."

Mairead grinned, slightly, at the professor's story.  It felt like both an intriguingly unique story and like the general plot of most Quidditch games.  Quidditch games were unpredictable, exciting and filled with split-second decision making.  There was a fine, almost imperceptible, line between planned strategy and unexpected happenstance.  She hadn't heard or seen a similar move but it sounded brilliantly fun.  She'd never properly played Chaser, but she could see where there'd be applications for a similar move for both Beaters and Seekers. 

This common interest made it easier for Mairead to disregard the man's station as a Head of House and Slytherin.  "Will ye show me?" She asked.  She could picture it in her head, but nothing really substituted for seeing it in person.  That was the easiest way to determine how it could modified for a Seeker. 

Sebastian smiled. "If you don't mind joining a professor in the sky, it is a two person move." He said and mounted his broom and with and quick launch he sails down the pitch and grabbed a box of the Quidditch balls, quickly he opened it and took out the Quaffle. He flew up into the air, tossing it from hand to hand getting the weight and feel of the ball. after a few moments of this he looked down to the ground. "You coming?"