Makenzie was not Captain, nor was she Assistant Captain, for the Crotalus Quidditch team. However, Arne was the latter, but his current impaired condition - he had broken his arm recently and was working on mending - had impeded his ability to do his job. For whatever reason, Alistair Johnson had yet to do the sign up, which made it Arne’s job, but since he had asked Makenzie, she told him that she would do it for him.
“Our Quidditch team needs you! Help us repeat last year’s championship performance! Tryouts will be held this Saturday at 10am on the school’s Quidditch Pitch. Please sign up below with your name, year, and preferred position. However, walk ons will be welcome as well.”
Like most things about her life before the last couple years, Makenzie’s handwriting was very neat. Her curvy but legible print read quite nicely on the page, but for good measure, she charmed the ink to a softly glowing red, with a silver trim encircling the edges of the paper.
Makenzie Newell, seventh year, Keeper.
With her own name attached, she posted the signup list to the bulletin board. Then she set off to find Alistair, just to make sure he knew Arne had asked her, and to inform him that it was done.
Winston was happy to be back at Sonora. His summer had been kind of lonely. Sure, Caitlin wasn't quite as much a baby as she had been last year, having turned nine now, which was a respectable age, if not as grown up as Winston's twelve, but it wouldn't be until next year, when she hit double digits, that she'd actually be his peer again. They'd played and spent time together, but it wasn't the same.
His room was too quiet at night. There was nobody to talk to about the lessons his summer tutor set him (Father was a big believer in not letting skills fallow over the summer break). The dining room seemed tiny and sorely underpopulated with only four people eating there.
Worst of all, there was nobody to play Quidditch with.
As soon as he saw the list posted, he hurried to add his name, doing his part to rectify that missing part of his life now that he was back at Sonora. That Crotalus was the reigning school Quidditch Champions this year was bonus.
Winston Pierce, Year 2, Chaser and/or Back-up Seeker
After Alistair caught the snitch in all of their games last year, clinching the Championship, Winston didn't have enough hubris to try to sign-up for starting string seeker, but he hoped maybe Alistair would let him get in some practice to take over the position in two years time.
For a few days, it had been strange to find himself at home again, answering questions from his sister and little cousins and looking to his parents for permission to do everything and attending social functions where he was the only person his age as he had before he had gone to Sonora, but Simon had enjoyed his summer. He had missed his mother and father and Sylvia, his own room, his familiar tutors, and all the other things it had taken him so long to adjust to doing without while he was at school for his first year.
After a few more days, though, it had become obvious to Simon that coming home for the summer was not just like getting back to life as had been normal. His parents had both been surprised the first few times Simon had offered an opinion freely, without being asked or hearing what opinions they held first so he could echo them, and Simon had been mortified and afraid he had said something wrong when he’d realized he’d done that, but they had all seemed to silently agree it was for the best. He was the family heir, and that meant that one day, he would have to do the things he had gotten more or less used to doing at Sonora (speaking first, making a handful of decisions for himself, etc.) at home, too.
Now he was back at Sonora, but still had not been back long enough to know how he felt about it. The response which seemed natural was to ignore that and just focus on getting back to routine as quickly as possible, so when he saw the sign-up sheet (posted, for some reason, by Miss Newell; why was the sheet being posted by Miss Newell?), he made a beeline for it and wrote his name beneath his roommate’s (curse Winston, he thought almost fondly) at once: Simon Mordue, Second Year, Chaser.
Once more, Sébastien had debated quitting the Crotalus Quidditch team, and once more he had decided to stay. Despite his reluctance to continue something when he knew he wasn’t the best, he was finding that age and experience did actually count for something. At the age of 13, he was starting to grow up, and he was no longer such a scrawny little boy as he had initially been. On top of that, working with Johnson and Reinhardt had improved his technique. Johnson especially was good at coaching, and Sébastien found himself playing better than he thought he’d would be able to.
But all these were insignificant beside the main reason Sébastien wanted to continue Quidditch: they’d won the cup last year! The taste of glory had been so great. He’d loved the recognition of being part of the best team in the school. Normally, Sébastien, didn’t like to share glory, but it was kind of tricky to have that level of glory without sharing it with a team.
So, yes, for the third year running Sébastien found the balance tipping in favour of signing up for the Crotalus Quidditch team. He didn’t sign up immediately – no need to look like a try-hard – but, upon seeing the sign-up sheet the day after the feast, he strolled over and added his name.
Sébastien Évreux, 3rd Year, Beater
9Sébastien ÉvreuxOnly if you promise me glory350Sébastien Évreux05