Eek! What?!

Truth be told, Treyen had missed that whistle, but he was only glad Vindictus didn't bring the vuvuzela to class.

The boy stopped in mid-air and then zoomed down, slightly disappointed at his failure as Catcher, but very glad at the thought of taking off this heavy protective gear. Once on the ground he returned everything that needed to be returned, and smiled at Vindtictus.

"Thanks for letting us have some Quidditch, Professor!" he said, as he took his bag, "I'll see you around!" and please be vuvuzela-free.

With that, the boy left (because they were excused, no?). Bye-bye Quidditch, for now.

James dismounted, not as smoothly as he'd have liked but he'd blame that on all the ancient equipment and the fact that his shoulders were both currently aching. In a good way though. He was pretty pleased really. He shot a glance over at Oliver, not quite apologetic for that last hit but still hoping he'd not... you know, done too much damage or whatever. Not that he'd go flail over the dude. Pshh. After all, Cam could do that.

He returned all his equipment and glanced around at the rocks that were now peppering the ground.

Were they gonna... stay there?

Not that, you know, he was gonna offer to pick 'em up or anything. Jimmy stretched, his shoulders popping.

"Cheers professor. Wicked lesson." He mumbled in the direction of the man he knew was his head of house, even if Jim'd been trying to escape notice.Yep. Off to inspect the damage then.

On his way to the basket goals, his head turns at the sound of the whistle. "Ohwwrr werr duhrn?" the lad asked, the quaffle straps still between his teeth. He spit the straps out and let the quaffle fall, focusing all his concentration on getting down-- because he is such a talent on brooms uh-huh.

Miraculously he landed on his feet, feeling weary and kinda chaff-y, but he has to thank the protective gear that has done their job when he collided with Headboy Curly. Speaking of which, he made a mental note of getting that guy's name. Forget the curls, the guy seemed to have been made of concrete.

He returned the equipment to the bin and gave them one last look. So thats what its like to play Quidditch. Old Skool anyway. Hefting his things onto his aching shoulders, he raised his arm as he took his leave, "Great lesson Professor! Thanks!" And with that, he turned for the castle.