Owen Oliver's Story

The hum of the crowd seeped through the wooden walls of their locker room as the Gryffindor Qudditch team tightened the straps of their kneepads and gathered their brooms for the first match of the season. Thomas adjusted the straps of his gloves as he gathered the team together in a huddle before the game. "Alright everyone, I know... This has been hard on a lot us" His breath hitched as he stared at the faces of his teammates scarred from the battle, "but we can't let it keep us from what we love, whether that be being here or kicking some Slytherin ass" He smirked and chuckled slightly to lighten the mood. "Cord, Hana do what you do best, Finn keep you eye Halliwell, and Calli bring it home" He added a slight wink in her direction before the horn sounded signaling the start of the match. "Let's make Gryffindor proud", the statement went a little deeper than just Quidditch to him.

His red and gold Quidditch robes swept behind him as the wind roared throughout the pitch. He made his way to the center of the field, eye-to-eye with the Slytherin Captain, Kenneth Lyndon. Madame Hooch patted both the boys on the shoulders, giving them the side eye, "Alright boys, let's keep this match fair and square, no tricks or foul play. Now shake on it.". Thomas extended his hand first and Lyndon gripped his hand pulling him harshly towards his chest. "Let's see if a two year break has made you soft Rohdlig" He sneered before shoving him away and stalking back towards the far side of the Quidditch pitch with the other Slytherins.

Thomas's body tensed, and he watched the hair on his forearm raise. He squeezed his broom rather tightly and took a deep breath, he got rather anxious and moody the closer it got to a full moon. It was something he didn't want to have to think about during the match, his lycanthropy was something he hand't told anyone. Out of embarrassment or fear, he wasn't too sure but he knew people would look at him differently if they found out and that he occasionally turned into a bloodthirsty wolf once each month.

Madame Hooch's whistle pulled him out of his own head and back to the field as he jogged back to his team and secured his helmet, tightening the chin strap to where it fit snuggly on his head. "Alright, take your positions!" Thomas immediately shot into the air, a smile forming on his rather stoic face. It was exhilarating to come back to the sport he had loved after the war. In that moment things felt normal again, good. He held a single fist in the air to his teammates as they readied themselves, and watched as they followed in suit. After a few moments of silence, Madame Hooch's whistle blared and in a second brooms where flying throughout the air. The first Quidditch match of the season had begun.



"Do we HAVE to be your little house elves today?!" "Yeah, come on sis, can't we just watch the Quidditch match!" Beatrix shot her two younger brothers a swift glare as she shoved note pads in their hands. "This is one of the biggest matches of the season, the first time Gryffindor and Slytherin get to battle it out since, the War. I need you to to gather all the bloody details for me, I'm already understaffed as it is". They both gave her the exact same disappointed look at the same time. Twins. "Can't you get Callista to do it?" The sound of the trumpet almost washed out Peter's voice. Bea hurriedly nudged her brothers down the steps, "She's in the match, now get out there and get my story". She watched the two admit defeat and finally trudge down the steps of the Hufflepuff section in the Pitch.

Beatrix tugged her coat closer to her body as the chilly winds of October began to settle in. She couldn't believe that it had already been a month since they all started. At first, it was weird and uncomfortable. Others were able to adjust back into the life of a student, but the lingering thoughts and feelings still held others back, she truly didn't know where she stood. Bea couldn't deny that every time she walked through the halls she couldn't help but hear the echoed screams of those who had lost their lives in the Battle. However, regardless of the pain she had promised herself to be a strong support to others and immediately threw herself back into the paper. It proved to be quite helpful, and rather calming not to mention she was working on a rather lengthy piece about the war itself.

She stood by the edge of the railing to the Hufflepuff seating section, pen at the ready as she watched the players (from her view they looked like little ants) march across the field and get into positions. She hadn't seen some of her friends yet, but the majority of them knew how preoccupied she became when she writing. Her face crinkled into a smile as she recognized some of her friends on the field and let of a little cheer, "Lets go Calli!".

Moments later her pen and pad went flying out of her hands and onto the ground of the already packed floor of the Hufflepuff section. A group of students (who she hadn't seen before) pushed past her rather aggressively. "Excuse me - ?" She said rather confused as they didn't even give her a second glance. How rude She thought to herself as she watched the group pave a path to the underside of the stand. Call it an inkling, or feeling, but something felt utterly wrong. Suddenly she lost sight of the group as the students around her shot up in cheers, waving their hats and scarves around as Madame Hooch signaled the start of the match.

She scrambled to pick up her pen and pad before pushing through the crowd to follow the students that had just past her. As she got closer to the exit she saw the tail end of the last student disappearing down the steps, and quickly ran after them being careful to keep her distance. She had no clue if anyone had picked up on her little curiosity, she hadn't seen her friends yet, but as she descended the steps the bad feeling in her gut only grew.



Gregory Halliwell wasn't having a particularly great day. He had managed to oversleep, lose his homework for transfiguration, and miss breakfast entirely. A great start to his first Quidditch match of the season. Gregory had already had a difficult time adjusting back into school after all the horrible crimes his father and sister committed, deep down it was humiliating for him. He'd never felt more alone in his life. He had a few friends here and there, Kade was one of the most understanding, but he didn't go one day without getting a rather harsh glare from a classmate. Being instantly defined by his family was wearing away on him, and he spent the majority of the year already keeping to himself. At least he still had Quidditch. Which he was late for.

He had to dash to get to the game in time, and he knew that Lydon wouldn't be too happy with him. Lyndon was a blood supremacists, a typical "evil" Slytherin, and the biggest asshat he knew. The only reason the boy got Captain was because his father handed over a large sum of money to the Quidditch team, Rory knew Viv or Esme would've been a much better match for their captain. He got a poignant glare as he dashed into the Slytherin locker room from Lyndon. "Sorry, I got caught up-" Lyndon cut him off rather abruptly, "Does it look like I care about your excuse? Get ready". Rory held his tongue and just nodded, hurriedly grabbing his pads from the locker and putting them on while Lyndon gave them a pre-game speech. "The Gryffindors already think they have this in the bag, which makes them careless. I will not lose this first game to them. Stupid mistakes today will cost you your position so I suggest everyone play like their life bloody well depended on it, do whatever you need to do to win. Now get out there". Everyone shuffled out of the locker room, but Lyndon blocked the exit with his hulking figure before Rory could follow his teammates. "I don't appreciate you being late Halliwell, do it again and your off the team" It was a curt threat but Rory was rather unfazed, Lyndon was all bark and no bite.

The wind whipped his curly hair around as he walked out on to the field following Esme and Viv out. He watched the Gryffindors do the same, his eyes on Hana and Cordelia, they were great, fierce chasers and would definitely be a strong match for him to face. Regardless, Gregory always enjoyed a challenge. At the sound of Madame Hooch's whistle he was up in the air, the Quaffle flying straight to the middle of the field. He made a beeline for the ball managing to snatch it first, tucking it underneath his right arm. He maneuvered through a sea of red and gold players furiously trying to protect the Quaffle, nearly getting knocked off his broom by a bludger. Just as they had practiced the day before, Karen Spinnet, one of the beaters had distracted Rohdlig with a bludger directly to his face, and Gregory launched the Quaffle through the 2nd ring. He grinned (for the first time in months) as he heard the satisfying ring of the bell along with