It had been a little over a month since he’d signed the contract, and so much had happened. Practices had started, however, and it was time to get in top form. With the newly reformed team and new players signed on, it meant there were a lot of hiccups.

The excitement of seeing an old classmate and teammate hadn’t gone away completely. It had been over a year since he’d seen Elizabeth graduate from Hogwarts and head on her own way. If he’d been smarter, or stayed on track, he would’ve been in the same class. Still, he’d gotten it on straight eventually--and the broom he was riding with Waker wouldn’t have come along if he had. For better or worse.

After putting the broom away after practice, a sweaty, dirty George jogged over to Beth and clapped her shoulder, giving her a friendly grin. He’d let more balls through than he’d meant to during practice... “That double-twist flip back was impressive. Bloody brilliant, mate.” The beaters on the team could go and do their name sake, Klint included. George focused on the Chasers, and the other Keeper, attempting to take his Hogwarts game and up it to a level that was adequate for the bigger leagues.

From his spot at Hogwarts, he’d expected the transition to the Cannons to be a lot smoother. The bumps just made it more intense, a better learning environment. He was focused and ran himself hard during practice: it felt good to be so sore at the end of the day that climbing into bed was a chore.

Considering it was August, every time practice ended Beth always seemed to be cold. It was probably a number of things: sweat, the breeze or even just the fact that she’d stopped moving, either way; Beth didn’t really like the end of practice purely because of that reason. Granted, she’d already been through one winter’s worth of freezing practices, but that didn’t mean that she was dreading it any less than she was last year. Beth was always thankful for the end of practice, when she could grab her sweatshirt[1] and put all of her kit away, instead of freezing for any longer than was necessary.

It had been a good practice and Beth pulled the sweatshirt up over her head when someone gave her a clap on the shoulder. Turning round, she rubbed her shoulder in mock pain “Ow,” she mouthed before shrugging it off “All in a day’s work my friend.” she laughed “You let in a few quaffles today... I realise that we chasers need to learn to aim at the hoops but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try.” she was only teasing of course, brandishing the handle of her broom at him. It was slightly battered and scuffed from all the years of use, maybe it was time for a new one? “You’ve definitely upped your game since Hogwarts though...” it took a few moments for her to realise how that sounded “Not saying you weren’t a good player of course Georgie.” She gave him an awkward grin.

To Beth, it seemed like George had settled into life at the Cannons a lot easier than she had, but maybe that was because she felt like she had gone in cold, without really knowing anyone beforehand. At least, that was her excuse for why she thought George had settled in quicker than she had. It was nice to see a familiar face, she liked to throw a few curveballs his way, try and throw difficult quaffles that from her previous practices with him, she had learnt he found difficult. Just because they were teammates at Hogwarts and again now, didn’t mean she was going to go easy on him after all.

1.	Beth's practice clothes can be found here

George’s heartfelt grin slipped only slightly at the constructive criticism. Well, maybe not super constructive, but well meant enough. It reminded him of when she was the older, bossy Gryffindor quidditch player. Hands clasped behind his head and he stretched his upper torso one way and then the other, wanting to feel a pop and being disappointed when it didn’t happen. “I have to let you make a few.”

Hands flew up at the pointed broomstick, laughing a little. Not that he was defensive or anything. His step only slowed down enough to not get whacked with the broom, quickly stepping forward once again. He took the compliment with a smirk as hands found their way into his trouser pockets, shoulders shrugging in an attempt at being bashful. “Thanks.”

Laughing and shrugging the possible meaning behind her words, George raised an eyebrow. “I’ve always been a player, Beth.” Somehow he’d landed this spot with the Cannons. It meant he had the potential, and now he just had to work himself hard to bring it out. “You’ve done well yourself. New tricks compared to Hogwarts.” It helped to know someone, coming to the team, but he was also confident (bordering on too-cocky, sometimes). Maybe it also had to do with testosterone and an over-eager desire to compete.

“How old is that broom anyway?” His quidditch goggles hung around his neck and he held on to them with one hand, tugging lightly. Near the sidelines, he grabbed some water and took a big gulp, dumping a little over his head and shaking it out before raking his fingers through his messy mop. It wasn’t as chilly on the ground.