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CHAPTER FIVE UNDERDOGS? MORE LIKE UNDER-BADGERS
THE WIND ROARED LOUDLY THAT SATURDAY WHEN QUIDDITCH TRYOUTS FINALLY ROLLED AROUND. Originally, Mare hadn't planned to do her hair up (for a dramatic flare) but with the weather, she had to choose practicality. Her hair was pulled into a magically enhanced tight bun — she resembled her mother a bit too much for her liking.
She hoped this weather would discourage people from trying out — weed out the weak before she had to do it. Like, if you're not confident enough to fly in crap weather then don't even bother wasting her time. This is Scotland for Christ's sake, good weather was more of a myth then Santa Claus.
Mare and Robbie had woken up extra early, going over the training drills and setting up the pitch exactly how they preferred. Normally, Mare didn't take anything this seriously — especially if it was school-related. But she had a point to prove to everyone; her mother, Milo. . . even Bea. Maybe show that she wasn't completely undeserving of the favouritism she was born with.
She also felt the need to prove herself to Lester. To show him that he didn't need to be like the rest of them to be great. She might not be the brightest nor the most of motivated person but she'll be six-feet under before that makes her inferior to everyone else. Shes sick of being the black sheep, the daughter to marry off, the stupid one. . . The fucking Nightmare from Hufflepuff. The Mare who did whatever the fuck she felt like was a nightmare? Wait 'til they meet determined Mare.
As people started piling in, Mare stood at the centre of the pitch observing. Her eyes were narrowed and her shoulders were tense. She scanned the stadium, analysing the Quidditch hopefuls. Team combinations and potential strategies bounced around her brain but she quickly pushed them aside. She was not going to be like Milo and predetermine her team before tryouts even start.
"Pretty good turnout," said Robbie, coming up behind her. Mare nodded half-heartedly. Robbie looked kind of adorable in his quidditch kit. He was quite a skinny and lanky boy but he was tall, meaning he needed to wear larger sizes. However, those larger sizes were made with bulkier guys in mind so the jersey hung off his frame awkwardly. It made his friend smile a little.
