saige | t.lupin

Quidditch

Quidditch practice was one of Saige's favourite parts of the day, and one of Alex's least favourite. The two beaters, despite being placed in the same house,  had very different levels of work ethic. Saige put every morsel of her available effort that she could into every single thing she did. She didn't believe in sub-par, everything had to be done perfectly, anything less would just not do. Alex on the other hand lacked this outlook. He was a big advocate for not giving something the attention that it doesn't need, only giving what you can spare. The difference in personality made them butt heads more often than not, however much to the teams surprise, the two beaters worked seamlessly on the quidditch pitch together. 

The Ravenclaw quidditch captain, sixth year Jordan Stone, had been drilling the team into the ground ever since he stepped foot into the role. He insisted that team tryouts were to be conducted as soon as he could book the pitch, claiming that "they've had the whole summer to prepare, if they really want to get on the team they should be prepared by now," in response to complaints about his lack of notice. Still, the team he comprised was the best they had for a while, not that the team would ever admit that to Jordan. Alex insisted that the boy had some sort of winning complex, one of those people that would rather die than admit defeat. 

"I swear, I don't know who that boy is trying to impress but when I find out, I'm going to throttle them," Alex grumbled, out of breath from the laps Stone had forced them into.

"Hey! At least deal with the captain himself before going after his motivation," Saige responded, laughing at the boys disgruntled demeanour. 

"You're probably right," Alex replied. "How is it you're always right? It's actually rather annoying."

"You know you love me Nott," Saige grinned. 

"Yeah yeah of course I do, who else would I copy off in class?" 

"Git," she smacked him roughly on the arm. Despite the girls delicate manner, years of quidditch had driven unexpected strength into the girl, her lanky stature not giving away her true steadiness. 

"Oi! You two," their captain yelled at them. "Drills please. We're doing a mock game at the end of practice and I need you two to give the chasers hell!"

"Ok Stone," Alex's loud voice sounded across the field. The two beaters grinned at each other as they picked up their bats and brooms, making their way to let the bludgers out of their case. They began by remaining on the ground, waiting for the bludgers to rocket down towards them before they smacked them away with a harsh crack, giving each other notes on their form and aim. Saige trained her eyes on the bludger aggressively screaming towards her. As it neared she drew back her bat and adjusted her stance in anticipation for the hit. With a wide swing, her bat made contact with the bludger, a sickening smack sounding across the pitch, and the bludger sailed through the air, passing through the centre keeper's hoop. Watching the bludger wizz away, Alex whistled, impressed. 

"Nice shot," he complimented.

"Think it's time to jump on the brooms?" Saige suggested. Alex nodded in agreement and the two picked up their respective brooms before kicking off the grass and into the air. They practiced some basic drills, redirecting wild bludgers to the other so that they could be hit again with more precision. As much as quidditch was a sport centred incredibly on teamwork, beaters had the luxury of having a more isolated role. While the chasers worked together in a close unit to make and implement a plethora of intricate plays against the other team, the beaters had one job: make hell for the other team. Luckily, this was once of Alex and Saige's favourite things to do. There was no denying that Ravenclaw had a solid team, three well versed chasers, a quick keeper and seeker with a keen eye, but there was no denying that the pair of beaters were the best Hogwarts had seen since the Weasley twins. The unlikely pair seemed to just click, not to mention that they were not at all afraid of inflicting injury on the other team if provoked.