Drabble: Quidditch
Summery: Harry's Quidditch team gets a new chaser. Possible WIP
Disclaimer: All characters (unless otherwise stated) are property of their original creator, and I make no money from using them in the creation or posting of my drabble/fiction.
Characters: Harry Potter, Jake (oc), Oscar (oc)
“You know how we’ve been needing a new chaser to replace Emma since she’s goes on maternity?”
“Yes. Why?” Harry drawled, as he slowly finished taping up his wrists.
“Well I think I’ve found someone. He’s supposed to be good. Really good actually. God knows we’ll be needing someone against ‘the Wall’ next week.”
Harry chuckled softly. The nicknames the Cannons gave Ron always seemed to crack him up. His first year with them, they’d carried over the ‘Weasley is our King’ campaign. The year after that, when for some reason Ron thought it would be a grand idea to grow a beard, he’d been ‘The Bear’. Harry had teased him about that one so mercilessly, Ron finally sheered the ghastly thing in anger.
This year it was ‘the Wall’, and it seemed to describe the Cannons’ defense perfectly. No one had scored on the Cannons this year. Not yet at least.
“He’s stopping by this afternoon to sign some paperwork and take a look at the pitch.”
“Who is it?”
“Some International player. Been with the Quafflepunchers for the past while. Played for the Kites, the Goblins, and even had a stint across the pond for the Finches. The boys been all over.” Jake paused and gave Harry a rather pointed look. “Makes me wonder. Usually players only jump teams if they have bad attitudes. Bloke was mighty nice when I met him.”
“Maybe you caught him on a good day,” Harry replied rather sarcastically.
“Always the optimist, Harry. That’s why I like you.”
They chuckled together as the locker room door was flung open and Oscar, one of the Magpies twin Beaters and current team captain, stormed in holding a bag of ice to his swollen face. “Harry get your arse on the pitch, before I drag you out there myself.” He gestured rudely to the door, and Harry bowed to him and strode out the door, with a lofty ‘Oh yes, fair leader’.
~0~
Harry had been flying aimlessly around the pitch for the last half hour. He’d practiced his dives, feints and even threw in a few somersaults, but couldn’t seem to get his mind in the game.
It had been a while since they’d have anyone new on the team, and the novelty was driving everyone a bit spare, which in turn was sending Oscar into a bit of a tizzy as he practically screamed bloody murder in an attempt to keep their heads in the game.
Jake sauntered onto the pitch sometime shortly after half past two, followed by a bald gentleman, with a rather large pooch. Seeing as how the team was currently paying more attention to the two men below then the scrimmage currently taking place, Oscar, with a huff and a roll of his eyes, dismissed them for a break.
(yeah i know I'm cutting this off at an odd moment, so poo)
Disclaimer: All characters (unless otherwise stated) are property of their original creator, and I make no money from using them in the creation or posting of my drabble/fiction.
Characters: Harry Potter, Jake (oc), Oscar (oc)
“You know how we’ve been needing a new chaser to replace Emma since she’s goes on maternity?”
“Yes. Why?” Harry drawled, as he slowly finished taping up his wrists.
“Well I think I’ve found someone. He’s supposed to be good. Really good actually. God knows we’ll be needing someone against ‘the Wall’ next week.”
Harry chuckled softly. The nicknames the Cannons gave Ron always seemed to crack him up. His first year with them, they’d carried over the ‘Weasley is our King’ campaign. The year after that, when for some reason Ron thought it would be a grand idea to grow a beard, he’d been ‘The Bear’. Harry had teased him about that one so mercilessly, Ron finally sheered the ghastly thing in anger.
This year it was ‘the Wall’, and it seemed to describe the Cannons’ defense perfectly. No one had scored on the Cannons this year. Not yet at least.
“He’s stopping by this afternoon to sign some paperwork and take a look at the pitch.”
“Who is it?”
“Some International player. Been with the Quafflepunchers for the past while. Played for the Kites, the Goblins, and even had a stint across the pond for the Finches. The boys been all over.” Jake paused and gave Harry a rather pointed look. “Makes me wonder. Usually players only jump teams if they have bad attitudes. Bloke was mighty nice when I met him.”
“Maybe you caught him on a good day,” Harry replied rather sarcastically.
“Always the optimist, Harry. That’s why I like you.”
They chuckled together as the locker room door was flung open and Oscar, one of the Magpies twin Beaters and current team captain, stormed in holding a bag of ice to his swollen face. “Harry get your arse on the pitch, before I drag you out there myself.” He gestured rudely to the door, and Harry bowed to him and strode out the door, with a lofty ‘Oh yes, fair leader’.
~0~
Harry had been flying aimlessly around the pitch for the last half hour. He’d practiced his dives, feints and even threw in a few somersaults, but couldn’t seem to get his mind in the game.
It had been a while since they’d have anyone new on the team, and the novelty was driving everyone a bit spare, which in turn was sending Oscar into a bit of a tizzy as he practically screamed bloody murder in an attempt to keep their heads in the game.
Jake sauntered onto the pitch sometime shortly after half past two, followed by a bald gentleman, with a rather large pooch. Seeing as how the team was currently paying more attention to the two men below then the scrimmage currently taking place, Oscar, with a huff and a roll of his eyes, dismissed them for a break.
(yeah i know I'm cutting this off at an odd moment, so poo)