The problem now was that Abra only had one more fast lap to do before he needed to rein it back in and cool down, which was surely impossible after getting his adrenaline levels up but okay SURE he would TRY fine fine FIIIINE. After lap number three, obviously.

Over the sound of the rushing wind, Abra juuuuust made out Zoryn shouting something at them. He was going so fast and the wind was so LOUD in his ears and so he couldn't really make out what she was saying properly, so he dared to glance over in her direction, subconsciously slowing down just a touch as he did so. She didn't seem to be yelling at anyone to stop or that tryouts were suddenly cancelled or that there was a monster on the pitch or really anything that seemed to call for him to stop and pay attention, so he turned his attention back to the route ahead.

Even just the half-second he looked away had been enough to reach the other end of the pitch again, but Abra was more or less ready to repeat the exact same drift-turn he favoured. It was true that maybe he didn't come out of the turn quite as smoothly as he had hoped or planned, but he also didn't fly off course either. A minor lean here, an adjustment of the broom tail there, and the oversteer was corrected.

Last opportunity to show off his speed now, and Abra went all out. True, he sort of had a moment where he wasn't ENTIRELY sure of exactly how many laps he had already done and was tempted to do another fast lap just in case, but in the end (and because he didn't know if that would constitute the cheating Zoryn had mentioned before they all started) he went with his first instinct - that instinct being that this was supposed to be his final high-speed turn around the hoops before his cool down lap.

He couldn't really get any more flat against his broom if he tried, and Abra knew this because he was, in fact, trying. Down the side of the pitch he went, willing his broom on faster, faster, faster, before dramatically SWERRRRRVING at the corner and bringing the broomstick around neatly. In all honesty, he could have seen himself in action, but seeing as he knew that that would have sounded big-headed, he fully planned to keep those thoughts to himself.

Abra sat up a little more on his broom, pulling up as he did so and effectively slowing himself down, reaching an easier pace just in time for his fourth lap to begin. Flying wasn't really a workout for the heart and lungs in the same way that running or swimming was, because the broom was obviously doing most of the work - that was why people could fly long distances to get places if they didn't want to apparate. But it still worked the muscles and the reflexes and the brain, especially in a competitive context, and also, the thrill of it was enough to take one's breath away. Not to mention, something about the whole thing made it exhausting if you flew for a full Quidditch game, especially if you had extra things to do like Chasing or Keeping or Beating, but this early on in the Gryffindor tryouts Abra still had plenty of energy at his disposal.

As he circled (ovaled?) the Quidditch pitch one final time for his cool down lap, his attention turned to the obstacle course that had been set up for the Seekers. No he was going at a slower pace, Abra had the opportunity to divide his attention, to think ahead and to start to plan how to go about the course. Better than diving straight in without the first clue of how he was going to navigate it; that would only slow him down.

Was Zoryn saying anything because Théo had just started his second lap and with the wind wiping by his ears he could not hear a thing. Plus he wanted to go as fast as he could to prove something and he was still building speed. He didnt know what she was saying since he really really could not hear anything. This was one of the greatest feelings flying as fast as you can and nobody stopping you are hitting a bludger at you. Before he knew it he was done with his second lap and onto his third. No worries no nothing.

He was getting psyched to start the drills but he still had this lap and the fourth.

More Speed. Moooore.

Ok

He was going as fast as he can and after think for a few seconds realized he was going to have to slow down as he was reaching his fourth lap and was disappointed. Maybe one more lap and he would have gotten bored. But oh well onto the cooling lap. Théo slowed down and leisurely made his way around the pitch one more time.

He started looking around at who else would be doing Chaser drills with him.

He thought he heard a couple people during stretches.

This was going to be fun.

The very absolute actual second that his fourth lap was completed to completion, Abra pulled his broom up and out of the pitch-circuiting route. Having already been giving the obstacle course the once over during his final lap, he knew exactly which direction he needed to fly in order to reach the start -- or, at least, what he assumed to be the start -- and he headed that way at once.

Doubling back and crossing the pitch, Abra allowed himself just a moment to glance around at the others trying out, particularly those he knew were also going for the same position and so would be doing the obstacle course as well, but his attention was soon back on the obstacle course. As he reached the start of it, he brought his broomstick to a stop in the air, and paused to get the measure of things a little better.

Obstacle course, catch the snitch. Obstacle course, catch the snitch.

Abra hadn't seen Zoryn release any snitches yet, but then he'd also actually not really seen much of anything because of how hard he'd been going in the laps. So far he'd seen no glints of gold even just out of the corner of his eye, and had heard no tell-tale fluttering of tiny mechanical wings, but it occurred to him that it was more likely she would release the snitches after the laps had already been finished. No part of him doubted that they would make their entrance when the time was right.

His brief rest over, Abra lined his broom up a little better - though this wasn't really necessary - and suddenly sped forwards, his eyes on the first hoop, and his mind and body already preparing for the obstacles that were soon to come.

An obstacle course was obviously less about going at top speed, considering it was pretty much impossible to go all out and avoid every obstacle, and more about manoeuvring and broom control, but Abra still took a risk and went as fast as he dared all the same; what was more impressive than showing great broom handling skills whilst going MEGA fast. He cleared the first ring easily, almost perfectly (though that was to be expected after having had the time to prepare) and continued following the hoop-trail, passing through each with an exhilerating whoosh.

Left and right and up and down; following the route of the hoops started off relatively simple, and led him on quite the journey around the pitch. Then, just before it started to get boring, Abra saw that his next hoop required a sudden tight turn to the left, and he did the same drift-turn he'd done in his laps to fly around and reach it, just scraping through. A moment or two later, the course took him up a fair distance, and Abra dutifully followed, realising in the ensuing seconds that next up was his favourite thing in the world: a dive.

A smile on his face, Abra tugged the handle of his broom up and then pushed it downwards - like he was getting just a little bit of extra momentum before the event - and accelerated as much as he could. Dives were dangerous and they were thrilling in all the ways that Abra was okay with, so he didn't hold back even a little bit as he shot towards the ground as fast as he dared, zooming through hoop after hoop as the floor seemed to fly up to meet him and a rush of cold air blasted him in the fast. At the last second, Abra pulled up out of his dive, certain his knees and toes had skimmed the grass in the process, and followed the hoops back up into the sky and towards the remaining half of the obstacle course.

Zoryn took her notes very seriously, thank you very much. She wanted to be flying more than anything, but for the moment... This would have to work. But for the record she was INCREDIBLY jealous watching her friends and housemates zoom around the pitch.

Once it looked like everyone had started wrapping up on laps, Zoryn went to the chest and passed up some of the Quidditch balls. GO OFF INTO THE DISTANCE, be freeeeeeee!!!

Aka they were really up in here doing this tryout now. Good luck, friendos!!!

Also, this was the point at which Zoryn decided to abandon her notes and trade for her broom. She'd have to fly around the pitch to get a sense of how everyone was doing right? Right. Definitely right. It had nothing to do with the fact that she was itching to be in the air. Nothing at all.

Doing laps was easy. Rylee was used to flying all around the open area of her older sisters property whenever she had the chance to. Flying around and above trees and over the lake was always super fun... even if her parents had made Rian place several protective charms around the area just as precaution since she was young. It was okay though, it just meant she could really fly how she wanted and work on more speed without to much fear.

The moment the second lap came about, Rylee leaned down on her broom picking up speed right away. The wind whistled around her whipping strands of her long ginger hair from from the braid she had tied it up in. There was nothing like flying high and free and the look of pure happiness on her face showed it. She wasn't afraid to fly gradually picking up the speed, only trouble was these school brooms... they didn't go nearly as fast as she'd liked. Surely that couldn't be counted against her, could it? It wasn't her fault she didn't have her broom here.

Coming into the third lap she kept on the speed. This was it for high speed flying... Captain Zoryn had been very specific about what she wanted from them. Slow, fast, fast, slow. This was where she had to give it her all. Gah! Blah, blech! Eeww! Hair in her mouth! Rylee made a few faces while trying to keep her position on broom and the speed quick but hair in her mouth wasn't great and nor was it nice in her eyes either. She tried to ignore it but she did need to see! Lifting her hand up to brush the hair from her eyes she momentarily wobbled just a teensy tiny bit for the briefest of moments due to how fast she was quickly. With a quick adjustment of her weight on the broom and her hand positioning it was all better and she was flying as should be once more.

With her speed significantly slowing down for the final lap she let herself enjoy it. A simple relaxed final cooling down lap before taking on the obstacle course next. That's where she was going to really have to prove herself.

And with not much further ado Théodore finished his last lap and was ready for the drills. They couldn't be much harder than any drills he had done before especially since there were people here that were I guess less experienced. Tho Callum could just use his height to his advantage.

Right

Théo looked for the floating hoops and made his way over to them to start the obstacle course to pass and flying through the hoops before shooting at the Keeper and trying to score. Simple and see Théo remembered. Now if he could only remember to ask Zoryn for the prefect bathroom code. Not the type of thing he should be thinking about right now but here he was flying through flying hoops and passing like it was nothing.

Practice makes perfect.

Beau had been READY to take off from the moment he got here, but he was following rules and all that sort of stuff. And he had to show Captain Zoryn that he could take instruction in case she didn't think he was good enough or that he would make his own decisions. But she did owe him after the incident last year and if Beau had to...he would resort to using that. Or crying. Or just being sad. ONE OF THE BIG FEELINGS, OKAY?! Unless it was Emmmmmmmma who made keeper, then it was whatever right? Friends were happy for friends.

Taking to the air, Beau mayYYYYYYY have forgotten for just a few seconds that lap one was supposed to be chill and easy and had taken off in spectacular speeding fashion with a SQUEAAaAaAaAAAAALLL.

"OH. Blighty! Fiddlesticks! Fudgewinkles!" A simple tug on his broom handle and he came to a pretty sudden stop, throwing an apologetic smile (and wave, because people didn't always see smiles) at Captain Zoryn. "NERVES, SORRY!"

WHAT.

A.

LIAR.

Maybe he was nervous though.. Because this was going to be the only time he got to play quidditch outside of camps. Because unlike Liliane he didn't want to spend every second of his life trying to make a kids team when there were a gAZILLION other kids trying to make the team and they might have lost a parent or a leg or something and NEEDED the spot more than he did. Y'know?! Beau Francis Montague was actually nervous and it was showing.. which was why he considered going back to the ground and then to the castle with his broom between his legs and eat a big old bowl of ice cream with extra sprinkles.

INSTEAD...... (YEAH INSTEAD!!!) Beau tore out the fifty hair grips keeping his hair out of his face and lobbed them to the floor. They were probably digging in on the part of his brain that was in charge of the confidence he had in himself. Emmmmmma was going to have to braid his hair now. That was it. He was done with grippy slides. He was nOT a girl.

Taking a deep breath, Beau leaned into the wood he was perched atop and let himself FLYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY. FLYING WITH EASE. FLYING BECAUSE IT WAS FUN. Not too fast, but seriously not too slow because he was actually good on a broom and CHILL FLYING WAS ACTUALLY BEING TOO FAST. SO. THERE. Around the bend he went and back on the straight once more, fingers gripping the handle exactly where they needed to be, how he knew he could hold himself without worry.

AND THEN HE CLOSED HIS EYES AS HE ENTERED LAP TWO AND THE SPEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEED.

"HUEEEEERRRREEEEEE WEEEEE GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!" ByYYEEEEEE ground, bYEEEEEE WIND, bYyEeEeeeee bug that almost ended up in his nostril and was now actually in his hair or -- oh wait, nope, the wind had whipped it out and away already -- bYeEeEeeeee nerves that had been with him a whole lap previously.

HELLO BEAU MONTAGUE.

HELLO CONFIDENCE.

HELLO LAP THREE, WHEN DID YOU JOIN US?!!!!

They....were doing five laps, right??? Three fast and two chill?

WELL THAT WAS WHAT BEAU WAS DOING.

"AHHHHHHHH AHAHAHAHHAHA THIS IS SOOOOOOOOOOOO FUNNNNNN"

DID ABEY HERE THAT?? SHE WOULD SEE WHAT SHE WOULD DO.That was PRACTICALLY a yes in her very bright eyes. Emma bounced from one foot to the next, listening to the instructions that Zoryn was giving out, she tried her BEST to make sure she would remember every single one. She was giving out so many instructions! Luckily Em only had to remember the ones for seekers, which was EASY.

As soon as they were allowed to launch into the air Emma DID, albeit a step behind all the older kids (which she blamed on their fancy customized brooms). Her and the school broom had a TALKING to before she came to the tryouts because they were NOT gonna mess this up, right? RIGHT. She had practically mastered the art of getting her broom to fly beside her, so it only took her grabbing on with one hand, and swinging her leg over like she was mounting a horse. Emma flew almost straight into the sky above the pitch. Up, up, and UP -- but not so high as Abey because they had once talked about SPACE in the air and that sometimes flyers needed it. Plus if she was all the way up there, how was she gonna get to fly with Callum??? Still she looked up to him with some longing -- because they were ONE -- and watched as he started off before she did the same.

Anyway, Emma's first warm up lap was basically her being a shadow under Abey. He was going a little faster than what she thought a warm up consisted of, but THAT was basically the broom's fault right? It was custom made for speed not slowness. Still she was focusing hard on getting to the other side so she could go FAST. And maybe she zig zag'd a little. Just a little. And maybe she swung her feet around too because this was the lazy lap and didn't really count. She was still basically a shadow and was going a good speed.

.... Right up until Abey turned around at the end of the pitch, and then he was going TOO fast. Emma looked a mixture of shock and awe as her eyes followed him. Her broom took a step longer to go fast at all and Emma blamed it on being a SCHOOL broom. But she wasn't gonna let that stop her! She bent down close to her broom and wrapped her small legs around the broom, the tips of her feet coming to rest on hilt of the twigs. She wasn't going anywhere near as fast as Abey was going on his BEST BROOM EVER, but she was still going fast! YEAH! Emma almost missed the next turn because she was going SO SUPER FAST, so she had to make a HUGE turn to get to the other side of the field and finish her fast lap. And then it was slooooow again.

BUT SHE COULDN'T CATCH UP WITH ABEY. It was just SO hard, and almost had Emma feeling defeated, but she was a RAWR GRYFFINDOR and Gryffindors NEVER gave up. The tiny twelve year old speed up faster, trying to do less spins and focus on going straight and catching up.

Olivia had still been working through her yoga poses when Captain Zoryn called for them to start the actual tryout portion. Well, what she supposed was the actual tryout portion. Stretching was important, but it would be what they could accomplish on brooms that would make or break each person's Hogwarts quidditch dreams. In a rare display of nerves, the blonde almost forgot where she'd set her broom... She'd brought it along, right? Of course, she had.... Liv remembered shouldering it's weight...and moving down the stairs with it accidentally bumping into people. Rubbing her forehead, she quickly glanced about the ground until she spotted the broom several feet away. How in the world had it gotten there? Merlin, she really was losing it.

Anyway.... TO THE SKIES!

Tucking the polished oak handle between her legs, Olivia forcibly kicked off from the ground; relishing in the breezing lifting and shifting her braid about. For the first time in ages, she felt as through she could FINALLY breathe again. There was a few moments of reacquainting herself, some light goofing off..... but she understood it was to be warm-up laps first! Liv was more than familiar with this given she'd sat in on her father's practices loads of times. As she eventually took off full tilt... she could only hope to be as graceful as Carter Phillips had been on a broom. And Alice Fischer. Both had been her inspirations as a young girl.

During the first lap, Olivia focused on taking herself through the motions. It could be disorienting getting whipped in the face with wind, so she was basically preparing herself for how fast she knew she could go. That was the true meaning of warming up, right? Preparation for the crazy conditions in the sky.... But, okay...to be honest, it wasn't really that much of a warm-up as Liv was eager to take off. The power was between her legs and she just wanted to GO FOR IT. Had she mentioned it'd been entirely too long? Because....it had. It REALLY had. Coming out of the bend in the furthermost part of the pitch, Olivia used that long stretch to lay herself flat against her broom handle and fully press her foot on the gas (metaphorically). Brooms didn't have gas, obviously....but...you know. Metaphors.

Even as the wind beat her relentlessly in the face, she remained all smiles. There may have also been some fierce determination properly displayed among her features, but this was Olivia Phillips and that shouldn't have been at all surprising. Allowing her momentum to push her into the oncoming curve, she moved easily with the broom.....sorta riding the wind a bit as it coasted her into the adjacent stretch. Once she was free of the bend, Liv took off again, feeling a laugh (the air, anyway) expelling itself from her lungs out into the crisp September air. Up here in the sky, this was what it meant to be alive. Not to mention, it was a great confidence boost, as well. This girl knew what she was doing on a broom. Let's just say...

Slowing it down for the fourth and final lap, Liv took a moment to watch everyone from her skyward position. Oh, there were people in the stands, watching this tryout.... Well, of course there would've been. Scouts from other teams, perhaps? That happened a lot in the professional league, too, though they had more security and what have you. As for her, she found she didn't mind the audience as much. It felt great being able to do something she loved in a public setting. And to have people even cheering for her, maybe. MAYBE... if she made the team. It was really had to say at this point, since there was so much talent out here today. Ugh, but how cool would that be?!?! Her dad could come watch her play!!!! #goals

Pulling herself out of the last bend, she rushed to join the Montmorency boy and others that were also trying out for the Chaser position. She was grinning like a proper maniac, she knew, but nothing could deny her pure excitement!!!!

EEEP!!!!! EEEEEEP!!!!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEPPPPPP!!!!!!!

Whew. Sorry. Had to get that out....

Waiting for her turn (and the quaffle), the blonde all but BEAMED when it was thrown her.....in which she caught the ball easily! YAS!!! In her blood. Yep, the sport WAS in her blood and she was about to prove it to everyone (including her mother, who was so misguided in her attempt to keep Olivia safe). Tucking the ball into the crook of her elbow, she flew off towards the hoops, threading herself through them just as she'd seen her father do countless times. She'd perhaps gotten too enthusiastic about one hoop and had nearly missed it all together, but she'd saved herself at the last possible moment. After several moments of repeating the threading action, Liv shot back out of the rings, tossing the quaffle to the next person waiting.

This was terribly fun, gosh!

After his last lap (and actually flying properly chill for once) Beau waited a little bit to watch the others doing what they were doing. You know JUST to see what he was up against -- especially those chasers. Because if THEY were getting balls through his hoops then he wasn't doing his job. BUT they also wouldn't be doing THEIR job and someone had to at LEAST make the team. "This is annoying.." he muttered, brushing his hair back out of his eyes as he watched an older girl (her face was new this year... hm...) weave her way through the other hoops effortlessly. "YeSsssss. I LIKE HER, CAPTAIN ZORYN. LET'S HAVE HER ON OUR TEAAAAAAAAM!!!" Their team. Yes. Theirs.

Right?

Pls pls pls pls pls.

OKAY. This was going to be fine. If he sucked at keeping the balls out of the hoops then he'd just go join those trying out for chaser and pretend that was what he had wanted all day long.

Positioned adequately in front of the middle hoop, Beau flexed his fingers and wiggled them to make sure they were in TIP TOP SHAPE for keeping balls outta his court. "COME AT ME BROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO."

Faith was, to say the least, nervous. She didn't know how well she had to do for it not to look like she made the team due to nepotism - or if she would ever manage that. Zor being her best friend was not very nice on the pitch when it was her best friend who would decide if she was going to make it or break it, and she didn't imagine it was easy on the other girl either. What if she sucked? What if Aunt Alexis was lying all this time and she never inherited any of the Chosen Family Talent in the sport? Or worse, what if she did inherit the talent and it just wasn't good enough?

Stretching and flexing her fingers, she held her hand over the broom. Did it matter which hand? Not really. But for those who were concerned, it was her right hand. Because she was right-handed. The feeling of the wooden shaft of her broom was familiar, but somehow, it felt foreign too as her blood pounded in her ears. Her vision blurred and it took a few seconds for her to realise that the solution was to blink. BLINK, FAITH, DANG IT.

She'd be fine once she was in the air. She knew it because it was true. She was always okay once she was in the air, it's why she sometimes snuck out after curfew to fly and take her mind off things. Not too different from how Zoryn would crawl under her covers when she couldn't be alone at night. She just had to get into the air. Which she was gonna do now.

Once the blonde was on the broom, she took her ascent slowly. One straight diagonal line into the height range where the game was played. The trembling of her fingers slowly turning to a focused grip, the eyes that were glistening with tears slowly glazing over with determination. But it was a slow process, and she only managed to get properly on form close to the end of her first lap.

The second lap was faster, which was logical since she'd been instructed to gain speed, but she would have only started picking up speed then anyway. It was two hundred metres of turns that were slightly messy, accelerating turns, but each corner she rounded got gradually cleaner until she entered her third lap. She was going fast enough, no acceleration necessary, but she accelerated anyway, her body finally calibrated to the turns of the pitch. She'd never had to navigate this pitch with anyone else on it before, which made it so different from the pitch she knew. But she could do this. She was a Chosen.

And that's how she almost forgot to decelerate. Almost. She was a quarter lap in when she remembered, but it was fine. Probably. Despite the fact that literally nobody else had issues with their warm-up laps. Maybe this was a bad omen.

NO NEGATIVE THOUGHTS, TEACUP. We're decelerating. We're going to slow to a stop, and our stop is gonna be right in front of the hoops. Focus.

"Focus is key," she mumbled to herself, timing her halt perfectly by pulling the broom up just as she reached the hoops. Was her heart still pounding? Absolutely.

Throwing Slytherin a curve ball? Hah. It made him chuckle, her retort, and all he could think of was his cousin, Katy Toussaint, and the other Slytherins he had only recently sat with at the feast - Julie Bellaire, in particular. He wasn't certain that he loved the idea of beating them at Quidditch, if he was given the opportunity, considering it might make them feel bad. Hashtag Callum problems.


"Emma!" Hearing his name had made him light up like a Christmas tree, and he had opened his arms anticipating hugs from the first year before she even reached him. There was also the instinct to pick her up or crouch down to help her onto his back for a piggy back ride, but he had enough self-awareness of where they were that Emma might not think that was the coolest thing. Instead, he gave her hair a gentle ruffle after their hug and beamed at her excitement.

...But it faltered, when he considered the thought of Emma possibly not making the team. If he made it and she didn't, he would feel awful. Absolutely rotten. Emma would probably spring back to life without missing a beat, just excited to cheer on her house and housemates, but the thought that Emma and others at this tryout were not going to have a spot on the team was deflating.

And then, he thought, why couldn't there be more than four reserves? If people wanted to play, they should get the chance to, right? Even if it split them into junior varsity and varsity Quidditch teams, that would be better for those wanting to play than just not being able to play at all, wouldn't it? How were the ones who didn't make the team supposed to improve their skills enough to have a chance at it the next year, if they didn't get some real experience?


He was only torn from his worried thoughts by Zoryn, and it was only then that he acknowledged the rest of the tryout squad had arrived. A few people he made eye contact with and smiled in greeting, but his attention was quickly back to the captain.

Her opening monologue was... humorous, although he wasn't sure if it was intended that way; he chuckled lightly, assuming it was safe to just laugh a little, and he followed her first instructions: right elbow behind his head. The stretch felt good, the tightness that stretched down the back of his arm was familiar and welcomed, and he shook his arm out a little as they switched to stretching out the other arm.

It was already Callum's turn to share which position he favored, as he was standing up front close to Zoryn, and he cleared his throat, offering her a shrug when she came to him. "Wherever you need me, Cap." It was true: he didn't have a top choice. He felt comfortable when he had considered playing each of the four positions, and none of them scared him. He assumed someone much tinier would have made for a better Seeker, but if Zoryn thought his flying skills were on par for him to embark on that adventure, he would do it.

If she had a suggestion of a position for him, though, he was open and receptive to hearing her piece. Where did she want to see him first?

Huh?

He wanted her to choose for him??

The Gryffindor took a good look at Callum Kettleburn... a full up and down sorta look. This was a loaded question. Obviously they'd need his talent on the team, but there were others that she wanted too who were already trying out for very specific positions. There was an advantage to having someone who could mold to whichever position they were asked to take on. With that in mind... "How 'bout you spend half the time with the Chasers and the other half with the Beaters?" She'd need a good partner to help balance out some of her rashness on the pitch, so it'd be nice if a Kettleburn could be her dynamic duo. Buuuuuuuut they needed a real strong offensive team too. So, really, she was curious to see him play both.

Did that sound okay?


*****

The good news is that there’s LOADS of talent. The bad news is that HOW THE HECK WAS SHE SUPPOSED TO MAKE A ROSTER??? Maybe Hawthorne and Professor B would let Gryffindor make an exception. If they could have everyone on the team, it would truly be unstoppable. Zoryn would be sure to ask, what’s the worst they could say?! They had some real impressive talent here. Even the first years, like Rylee, were doing incredibly. Sure she had wobbled a little here ’n there, but they’d need some young talent since training ‘em young would really help build a foundation for the team. Just saying.

And if mentioning the young, it was almost impossible to ignore whatever Beau was doing. Kid made loads of noise, even when he was flying laps on his own…. Was she just imagining things or did the he do more than he was supposed to? Not that it mattered to Zor all that much. Plus he was funny and it was making Zoryn laugh so, she hoped he kept doing whatever it was that he was doing. In the mean time, Zoryn turned her attention to Emma Dakest who was practically wearing a layer of determination on her face. She had SPUNK, y’know???

There were others who didn’t necessarily surprise her with their talent. Olivia Phillips had Quidditch in her BLOOD!!! Zoryn had SEEN her dad last year during a flying lesson and the dude was AWESOME !!! Olivia probably practiced with Quidditch celebrities ALL THE TIME. There were others like that too, like Faith. Zor wasn’t even the least worried about her best friend of ALL time. Zor had seen Faith fly before and she had loads of talent. Would Zor get in trouble for having some bias?

It was true that Zoryn wanted to crush EVERYONE ((((especially Slytherin)))), BUT wouldn’t it be so much fun if they ALL were on the team together? ‘Cause lisseeeeen, if everyone was on the team it would be LOADS stronger. AND she wouldn’t have to worry about saying no to any of her friends ‘cause though she typically didn’t care about people’s feelings as much as she should… This was different. These were some of her BESTEST friends.

Fortunately hearing Beau shouting across the pitch was enough to bring her full attention back to the try outs. She had to be taking notes (ew)!!!

Callum was unfazed by Zoryn scrutinizing him from top to bottom - in fact, he made a thing of it and stood tall, puffed out his chest, flexed a bicep while standing in a power-pose with his broomstick over his shoulder, and laughed all the while. When she came to her conclusion, he relaxed, grinning puppy-like and shrugged his shoulders again. "You got it."

He wasn't worried about where she wanted him to go; he was already mentally preparing for what was to come. As they continued to stretch it out, glances were exchanged with others who said they were trying out for Chaser to see who he would be working with for passing reasons, and he sized up those who said they wanted to play Beater to see how psyched they seemed about it. It seemed that the general consensus was that this was going to be fun from his housemates, and he wholeheartedly shared that same enthusiasm. If nothing else, they were all getting a good workout in today, eh?


It was peculiar how protective Callum felt toward the captain. It was hard not to look at her and see his similarly excitable, spunky sister, Chloe, and when they finished their stretches and Zoryn was calling everyone to attention to listen to her give instructions, Callum gave anyone who didn't hush quickly a pair of RESPECT YOUR CAPTAIN eyes. Not that he was particularly intimidating personality-wise, but his height and build worked in his favor when he needed to be authoritative. That's what seventh years were for, right?

Four laps. One warm-up, two that counted, and a cool-down lap - that's how he had interpreted that, and he nodded coolly. This would be a good opportunity to show off his decade-long experience with flying, and he didn't wait for anyone else to take the initiative to mount his broomstick, kick off, and take to the sky to start his first lap around the pitch.

His speed was steady; he was cool and cruising, level with the stands. He found his gaze scanning the entirety of their audience for the day, searching for familiar faces, for family, for friends... mostly for Jae, as he'd asked her not to come because he was CERTAIN that he would keep looking at her and winking at her and trying to show off for her when he did not need the added pressure of being, well, impressive. Being flashy and fancy and goofy was fun when it was just them on the pitch, enjoying the autumn day, but this was sure to require some focus. If she was really desperate to be there, Callum assumed she was hiding inside one of the columns, peeking out through the fabric. He didn't mind that - as long as he didn't see with his own two eyes that she was there, he was good. No distractions by beautiful girls today. Not allowed.

He didn't mind if his housemates passed him while they were on this first lap. If nothing else, they gave him something to catch up to once it was time to crank it up a notch, and he silently thanked every flyer who passed him on this easy lap around the pitch. Thank you, thank you, thank you... Even Emma passed him by, close behind the Botros boy, and Callum smiled. It was nice that she was getting out here and really going for it, especially as a first year. That kid was fearless, and Callum admired her for that.

Meanwhile, he combed his fingers through his hair and basked in the wind pummeling him in the face. When he made himself plenty comfortable with the wind up here, Callum chose to hone in on some other senses: the crisp scent of autumn in the air, the distant-growing chatter and laughter of many of his housemates flying ahead of him, the texture of the worn but well-polished surface of his broomstick handle - none of this ever got old. Even outside of the incredible view of the grounds and these energizing sensory aspects, flying was incredibly therapeutic - he appreciated the alone time, how it was him and his thoughts and his broomstick when he wanted it to be, and he could still interact with others if he decided to. But, at least for right now, the solitude was calming, and it wasn't until he was reaching his start point for the first lap that he allowed himself to switch gears.

He had smoothly taken each turn on that first lap, almost giving off the air that he wasn't taking this seriously and it was just second nature, but as soon as he neared the area he had started from, he pulled his shoulders back, his core tightened, he leeeaned forward toward the handle, his boots tucking tighter against the finely-trimmed twigs of his broomstick, and the smallest smirk twitched the corner of his mouth upward as he shot forward like a rocket. The first turn was coming up all too soon, and he anticipated it - he braced himself and leaned into the turn, handling the rounded end of the pitch with plenty of room to spare between himself and the wall - which, as he took the corner, he realized was probably not super impressive, and as he straightened back out to head back to the other side of the pitch, he was mentally preparing himself to push the limits and fly as close to the wall as he could to really show how well he could control his broomstick.

He almost felt bad - on the straightaway, he caught up to a few housemates easily and passed them, but on his way, he noticed that many of them actually had superb form, and he found himself blaming the school brooms on their behalf. It was a shame, really, that they were disadvantaged like that, and Callum hoped Zoryn would take that into account. He actually found himself wishing he could let a first year - Emma, of course - borrow his broomstick, then he could show off how well he could make one of those school ones work, but he knew it was probably against the rules in some way or another. At least this way, all the first years were sharing the same disadvantage, so Zoryn would at least be able to see who had some raw talent on that level playing field, right? Buuuut... maybe he and Emma could hang out on the pitch after tryouts, he could let her fly his broomstick, and they could make it happen really quickly before Zoryn had the chance to leave the pitch. Heh.

Still dwelling on what felt like an unfair advantage for him on his high-end broomstick, the half-oval turn at the end of the pitch was just seconds away, and Callum took in a sharp breath before hugging the wall as tightly as he could - it was an arm's width away as he guided his broom around the curve, and he slowed his speed slightly to nudge himself a liiiittle bit closer to the wall. If he were to stick out his elbow, he would have hit his funny bone against the fabric walls and the wooden posts concealed underneath, but he consciously squeezed his elbows in tighter, making himself as slim as he could, as he straightened out and accelerated, looking to use the straightaway as another opportunity to pass, or at least catch up with, any of the housemates who were ahead of him.

Threading the needle, that's all this was, and, actually, it was mega fun. As he neared the end of the course, Abra all but forgot he was actually in the middle of a tryout and just relished the thrill of it all. As a result, he didn't really try so much to take on all the obstacles at a ferocious speed, because his main priority had changed into simply enjoying the experience. This, it turned out, was a good thing. In the second half of the course, the obstacles got trickier to manage and probably would have sent him into a very literal tailspin had he been flying all out.

First, Abra noticed, the hoops stopped being so consistent in size. One hoop he flew through was so incredibly large that he almost wondered if he could have made it through whilst drifting with his broom perfectly parallel to it. Seconds later, he saw that the next hoop was not way out ahead, as he had believed at first, but fairly close and much, much smaller than the last. The bigger one had lulled him into a false sense of security, and Abra had only a second to adjust his course in order to sail through the next one, and still felt the sleeve of his robes make contact as he whipped through.

Not long after, things got trickier when the hoops started moving. This was a lot harder to judge, as it was naturally much more difficult to hit a moving target than a stationary one. But at least Abra was not launching a projectile at a target, and instead was the projectile actually, and had control of himself in the air all the way to the wandering hoop. There was likely a proper technique to this, but he just decided to just go with his gut, trust his instinct, and rely on his reflexes to get him out of a sticky situation if necessary.

Abra's eyes followed the hoop as it moved steadily left and right. He slowed down slightly, subconsciously, in order to try to judge where the hoop would be when he reached it. In the end he decided to wait until the hoop had almost reached the extreme left of its course, then put on a burst of speed and fly in that direction.

All of this was decided in the space of about two seconds, considering he was still moving forward at speed, and executing the plan took less time still. Abra directed his broom to the left and flew forwards, wondering if he'd judged this correctly and what the penalty might be for missing a hoop but deciding he was not going to find out. Doubting his judgement, he suddenly sped forwards, earlier than he had planned. The only real price he paid for his moment of eagerness was a slight nudge on his left arm as he flew threw the hoop a fraction of a second before it was in the optimal position.

Tugging his broom quickly to the right and then back to the left, Abra ensured that the rest of his body got through just fine, but a second later he heard a concerning and all too familiar whooshing sound coming from somewhere near his head. Immediately suspecting a bludger, either as a part of the course or loose from the Beater section of tryouts, Abra rolled to the side and underneath his broom, employing the Sloth Grip Roll in a far less controlled way than he would have liked, being that he'd not had much opportunity to really practice and perfect it that much. He came back up on the other side of the broom, using the momentum from the start of the move, and righted himself on his broom again. What seemed to be a wall where there had been none before suddenly sprung up out of nowhere. Caught by surprise, Abra's heart leapt into his throat and he reflexively pulled his broom back and flew straight up to avoid it.

When he saw the hoops directly overhead, he realised it had all just been another planned obstacle, which was pretty obvious now that he had a moment to think about it. Once more, he followed the hoops and finally reached the end of the course.

Pulling up his broom - this time to a halt - Abra looked back out over the course to see if 1. the wall was still there and, 2. what the whooshing things had been, while he took the time to let his heart rate settle back down. Both were gone - invisible, perhaps - so he came to the conclusion that they must have been charmed obstacles (duh) which only appeared when someone got close to them. As he looked out over the rest of the course, he saw that it was not necessarily exactly as he had remembered; did it change with every flyer? Perhaps going in slightly different directions took them to different obstacles? That was brilliant, if so, and Abra had half a mind to go back and have another go, to see if he'd get a different experience.

No. Catch the snitch.

Right. Yes. The snitch. Obviously. Aka the whole reason for the position he was trying out for. Because that's what he was doing, of course. Tryouts. It was all coming back to him now.

Abra nodded firmly to himself, and flew off away from the end of the obstacle course. Now that he had stopped to process things, he was really feeling the cold. REALLY feeling it. His hair was probably a mess too, and his eyes were streaming from their exposure to all that rushing air.

Allowing himself a moment to collect himself, Abra took both hands off of his broom and rubbed at his eyes and tried to warm his face in his now very sweaty palms and ruffled his hair which absolutely didn't need any more ruffling. When his hands were back on his broom, he looked back out over the pitch to seek out both Emma and the first year who was also trying out for Seeker. Both were easily to locate thanks to their hair, and Abra smiled to himself when he caught sight of each of them. It was nice, seeing other kids, especially younger ones, trying out and enjoying Quidditch and flying and having fun with it. He'd never really thought about it before, not properly, but it was a good thing to see.

Anyway. Yes. Tryouts. Seek the snitch, not the other players.

Turning away from the obstacle course, Abra directed his broom up into the air and flew up high, above the pitch, higher than the tall towers that made up parts of the stands. When he'd reached an altitude that was perfect for snitch-seeking (but actually not at all ideal for those who preferred the warmth, just by the way) he began flying around the perimeter of the pitch once more. He kept his speed steady, and circled like a vulture but watched like a hawk, squinting out over the pitch for that tell-tale gold glint.

As he accelerated back up to his maximum speed on the straightaway toward the start of his third lap, Callum realized the group ahead of him was likely going to stay ahead of him for this "fast" last lap, unless one of them made a critical error and sent their little group crashing. Someone making an error was certainly not out of the question, since many of them were very close together in flight, clearly racing to finish "first." All he wanted to do now was decrease the gap, if he could - any seconds he could shave off his "time" around the pitch would help his case for making the team - and he focused on the person at the back of the "front" pack. He just needed to show Zoryn that he could make attempts at catching up with people who had a greater head start for the second and third laps than he had.

He felt like a shooting star, speeding down the length of the pitch as quickly as he make his broomstick to carry him, squeezing his broad frame into as thin of a line to match the broom as he could manage, his head down, his elbows in, the smirk of satisfaction never leaving his face, not even as he squinted and focused on navigating the half-oval turn. He decreased only slightly in speed to give himself maximum control of handling the broomstick, then sped up before he finished the turn, gaining the early opportunity to increase his momentum and rocket down the straightaway of the pitch once again, never losing control.

He had made a valiant effort of closing the gap; he was nearing a straggler who hadn't taken the curve as cleanly as he had, and took the inside of the curve to successfully pass them as he rounded back to the start line where he would finish his third lap. Plenty of people "finished" before him, as they had started their laps before him, but as he crossed over the starting point and leaned back to a sitting position, slowing his broom down, he felt pretty good. He hadn't been sabotaged by anyone, he hadn't bumped into any of the other flyers (he didn't want to hurt THEIR chances either), and he hadn't crashed into the stands. He hadn't expected to do that, to crash, but sometimes he liked to overestimate his abilities. Sometimes people crashed. It was life.

Running his fingers through his dark blond hair again as if to smooth it down to dampen the wind-blown hair look, Callum spent this last lap looking to make eye contact with Zoryn, first, to see if she seemed pleased with him, and Emma, to make sure she was holding up okay. The seventh year wasn't so much concerned for her abilities as he was with her school broom acting up, and he was relieved she was still in one piece.

He'd rounded the first curve, now it was back on the straightaway toward the last curve before he was finished. He felt kind of silly; he wanted to take the opportunity (with eyes watching him) to pull some kind of trick, to show that he could do more than just fly in straight lines and ride alongside the curving stands of the stadium, but in the few seconds he had to weigh whether or not deviating from Zoryn's instructions would be worth it, he concluded that it was probably best to just do as he was told. There was a time and place to try fun broom tricks, and this wasn't it.

He hugged the last curve of the pitch and smoothly glided across his original starting area, at which point he seamlessly headed toward the end of the pitch where the Chasers and Keepers were to be working. It was go time.

Obstacle course time!

Rylee was ready. Super ready. So ready in fact that she gave an excitedly little wiggle before flying off in the direction of the obstacle course. Or at least that's where she had seen on of the other seekers headed not to long ago. Not to mention that no one was coming flying at her so that had to be the correct way to go.

Alright so all that had to be done was to fly the course. Fly the course and catch the snitch. Easy enough. Hovering in place for several seconds, Rylee looked around letting her blue eyes take in all that was in front of her and around her as best she could. There was a hoop straight ahead which she could easily sail through without much effort once she began. It was time to give it her all.

This wasn't all about speed, no. This was about precision, focus, timing. It was about getting through each of the hoops no matter the height or distance apart they were from one another. Heading straight for the first hoop, Ry, sailed right through it with ease. The next hoop was up higher making her pull up slightly on her broom before evening out again in order to fly through it. So far so good.

Whoa! There was a steep drop downwards that had to be made fast to get through that hoop. Without any thought to it she leaned down on the broom handle shooting downwards, the wind once again pulling strands free from the braid in her hair and whipping it around her face. A twist of her body to the left and tucking herself in close to the broom was the only way to make it through safely without hitting the edges of the hoop... thank Merlin she was small for her age! How were the bigger kids supposed to get through that?!

Zig-zagging to the right through another hoop and then fast to the left again as she flew upwards to fly perfectly through the following one. Her speed slowed to a more relaxed one with the upcoming hoop still a little bit away from what she could see ahead of her.

Getting as high as possible in order to obtain a good vantage point was the tactic Abra preferred when playing in Quidditch games, though not necessarily because he thought it was the best way to find the snitch. Actually, being so far up sometimes made it more difficult, depending on the weather. It was best to use the tactic on sunny days, when the sun beating down on him sort of made up for the cooler temperatures that came with a higher altitude, but also because a bright sun meant the snitch stood out more, having more light to reflect and therefore drawing the eye. But Abra supposed that bright, sunny weather on Quidditch days here in Scotland were not exactly a matter of course.

Actually, the reason he liked this method of Seeking was because it appealed to his personality. Abra liked to be included while at the same time staying removed from things and having the opportunity to keep to himself. It was also difficult (and a bad idea, given rule number one in the Beaters' Bible) to try and blend in among the other players during play, so way way up was where Abra tended to stay.

After checking that the pitch-equivalent area above his head was free of any snitches, Abra kept his eyes down and on the pitch as he circled it, keeping a look out for that glint of gold. Before long, he started to second-guess himself and flew a little lower than he had originally planned to, when he found that he was squinting more than usual during his search.

With multiple snitches flying around the pitch, it was really only natural that Abra spotted one sooner rather than later. It happened as he rounded the end of the pitch where there was a fair amount of activity from those trying out for Chaser and Keeper, and had just turned his head to peer over at the hoops over on the opposite end. There, at the base of the posts, a flash of gold caught his eye, something reflecting the bright September sun. But he was still moving and in the next instant it seemed to have shifted and and the glint was gone, but he decided to hedge his bets on it. What else down there could have caught his attention like that?

Abruptly pulling his broom to the left, Abra shot as though from a canon in the direction of the possible snitch, heading towards the ground but in such a gradual dive it didn't really merit being called one at all. Just as he had done in his laps, he leaned flat against his broom and moved his hands out a little further forward on his broom handle to become as streamlined as he could, and tucked his elbows and knees in. He gripped the broom tightly and willed it on, faster, faster. Squinting hard in the direction he was flying, Abra was pleased to discover in no time at all that he had, in fact, found a golden snitch.

Annoyingly, however, it seemed to sense him too. As Abra rapidly closed in on the tiny metal ball, it suddenly nipped off to the right and up into the air, and so, obviously, he gave chase. He kept his eyes on it not bothering to pay much attention to his surroundings, and again chose to trust his instincts to help him avoid any obstacles in pursuit of the snitch, which would decide its own route. All Abra had to do was keep his eyes on it and follow it and catch it, as quickly as he possibly could.

Nearing the hoops they were meant to navigate through, Callum watched the others already at the station, Theo and Olivia, taking their turns with the obstacles and shooting to score. He hadn't done anything this structured since his attendance at Quidditch camp during his pre-Hogwarts years, but he wasn't worried. He was good on a broom, he was strong, he was athletic, he was agile, he had muscles in all the right places... there wasn't a self-conscious bone in his body right now. All confidence, all the time.

His turn. The quaffle came sailing his way and he braced himself for it - he had to move slightly to the right and back just a little to settle himself where the quaffle was going to reach him, movements that were second nature, and he sat up and extended both hands above his head to catch it-- he did, but became a little unsteady, having to lean forward and regain complete balance and control. His attention immediately turned to Zoryn, who he griiiiiiiinned a little too broadly at. It was just a little wobble, Cap, nothing to worry about, surely...?

Now that he had control of the quaffle, he tucked it under his arm. He felt he had a bit of an advantage here, playing Chaser: his long arms were advantageous for stealing the ball and stretching out further to make catches (though he probably needed to work on being able to do so without compromising his balance on the broomstick) - and he could use his other freakishly long arm to push away anyone trying to intercept the quaffle or make him fumble. Hah.

It took him a moment to settle the sudden nerves that had arisen. The hoops weren't a concern for him, but as soon as he emerged, he wanted to quickly assess the situation with the Keeper and chuck it. The more he would hesitate upon facing the Keeper, the more the Keeper would be able to study him and see where he was going to try to make a move. There had to be some mind games going on, right? It was probably best to be impulsive about it and make a last-second decision, so...

Before he could let himself overthink it too much longer, he shot forward, weaving himself through the first hoop with great speed - that is, until he felt the twigs on the back end of his broomstick brush against the hoop he had just ventured through. He slowed his speed slightly, making sure to finish out the remaining hoops cleanly, and as he emerged from the last obstacle, he took the quaffle in his hand, faked a throw to the left hoop - then quickly snapped his arm back and chucked the quaffle toward the right hoop instead.

PLEASE, MERLIN, LET IT GO IN.

What Liv liked most about these tryouts was that everyone was being given the honest chance to exhibit their individual strengths. Continually impressed with all this younger talent....especially Beau!!!! (who'd been shouting something, but she'd been so focused on controlling her broom that she'd missed it), the blonde felt completely comfortable throwing herself right into the middle of it all. And it didn't feel like showing off, which was the important thing! Everyone was so naturally skilled that she was FORCED to give it everything she had, and....to be honest...that felt really good.

Merlin, why hadn't they brought back quidditch sooner?! She was having a blast up here!

Watching intently as Callum went head to head with one of their Keeper hopefuls, Olivia was practically beaming at the visual display. He was fairly gifted, she had to admit, but Liv remembered vividly what a fantastic flyer Char was, as well. Ugh, it was so strange being at Hogwarts without Charlotte. And Chloe. If she survived these tryouts, perhaps she'd drop them both a line or two. Catch up, though they were both probably neck-deep in their own lives at the moment. Quite honestly, she couldn't wait to join them, but....this final year first and what have you.

Waiting for the quaffle to be pitched out to her, Olivia hovered in place, grasping the handle of her broom one-handed. This adrenaline was crazy... The anticipation of what was going to happen. When would it be thrown? How high or low? Butterflies had long since erupted in her lower abdomen, as she tried to anticipate the ball. What Would Alice Fischer Do?.....Beat someone within an inch of their life with her bat, but....Liv wasn't going out for Beater, so... Erm, that wasn't going to work. What Would Carter Phillips Do.... was probably more appropriate. Hmmmmm. Without any warning, the quaffle was suddenly soaring in her direction! With an excited squeal, the blonde barreled forward in a mad dash to put herself directly beneath it. CAUGHT! BOOYAH! Tucking it safely between her body and arm, she took off directly towards the hoops, resolved to play chicken with the Keeper contender if need be. If only she'd been kidding...

Eyes fiercely narrowed, she flattened herself against the oak wood; showing absolutely no signs of slowing or pulling out of the death-defying pace....... Well, until she got close enough to score, anyway. Braid whipping behind her helplessly, Olivia waited until the last possibly moment to pull upward on her broom handle; effectively stopping the momentum in its tracks. With a brilliantly wind-blown smile, she took aim and hurtled the quaffle towards the the leftmost hoop, trying not to take too much pleasure in the panicked expression of the Keeper. Perhaps it was a ploy? Maybe they had it all under control and were only playing at being shook™.... but either way....

That had been a good one, right?

...It didn't.

Although the Keeper also hadn't gotten there in time to block his shot, the quaffle resounded a DING! against the rightmost side of the hoop and descended toward the ground. Oof. Callum sighed. The ricochet off the goal post was both disheartening and embarrassing, but he went to retrieve it before the Keeper could.

"I'm GOING AGAIN," he announced, determined to rectify his error sooner rather than later. Who was going to argue with him, really? With his brows furrowed and fortitude settling into the crevices of his face, he carried the quaffle back to the start of the obstacle of hoops.

He didn't pause to collect his thoughts once he got there; he summoned all his pent-up frustration and surged through the first hoop, weaving into the next, tucking his body in and ensuring each movement was precise, with full awareness of his body and broomstick working together--

The moment he emerged from the final hoop, the seventh year sent the quaffle rocketing toward the same hoop he had aimed for last time. Unlike last time, he hadn't hesitated. Unlike last time, he didn't fake a throw. Unlike last time, he scored.

"THANK you," he threw both his hands up in exasperation, relieved more than anything that he had successfully made a goal, and he turned, looking for his sister and cousins in the stands to give them over-the-top, comical gestures. Thank you, thank you, I'll be here all year. He bowed his upper half, the goofy smile on his face when he arose indicating that it was all in good humor.

Okay. Exhausting. Not so much physically, but mentally and emotionally exhausting. He wasn't sure he had loved that so much, so he left the other Chasers to their drills and went to follow Zoryn's advice of spending some time with the Beaters, too.

Whoa Olivia and Callum were really good. He was just ready to go again when Callum more yelled than announced he was going to again and really Thé for one was not going to stop him. So yeah he will just wait til he was done and begin. Théo just began visualizing ways to get past the keeper since at the end of the day their job was to score goals. It was the fun part besides passing it back and forth and confusing defenders and Bludgers.

Alright, he was up. He zipped through the first hoop just fine and blasted through the second one going a little fast and well just normally got through the last one before facing the Keeper. Awww yes, now the fun part he started to look to the right hoop and at the last second psyched him out and threw as hard as he could to the left getting it right by the fingertips and scored.

YES.

Would Selina Skylar think he did awesome there?

Time for another try, he had to do better next time

Oddly enough, Callum was much more excited for this portion of his tryout. After he swooped down to the ground to pick up a bat, he turned his eyes to the skies. It seemed that the only other Gryffindor trying out for the position of Beater was Melbourne, his yearmate, and although he felt like she could kick some butt, he wasn't particularly threatened by her vying for the spot against him. Their captain needed an equal to work with, someone who wouldn't drag her down, and as he honed in on his first bludger to bash, he felt like that person was him.

Taking off to intercept a bludger that was about to soar by, Callum adjusted his grip on the bat in his left hand, his right hand steadying himself on the broomstick as he pulled the bat back and-- SWING! KNOCK! "OI LOOK OUT."

The bludger he pummeled crossed the trajectory of one of the Seekers mere seconds after they had passed, and Callum breathed a sigh of relief that they had gotten out of the way in time. They shouldn't have been so close to the moving targets; this was the beaters' side of the pitch! Not that he had aimed correctly and hit a target - the bludger ended up sailing a couple feet above the targets entirely - and it wasn't that the Seekers were confined to a certain part of the pitch either, but hey, they needed to be ready for anything, even if this was just a tryout. "Just a tryout" didn't mean anything to the bludgers that were zipping throughout the pitch, and even though he would have beat himself up for hurting one of his housemates, logic would have eased his guilt just a little. Bludgers never showed mercy. Not entirely his fault.

For a millisecond, he wondered if his mum would approve of him becoming a Beater.

Just as quickly as the thought grew, the thought subsided-- another bludger was testing its luck by flying his way, and Callum sped to get in front of where it was going to go, his bat swinging back, taking aim to send it soaring toward the bottommost moving targets (since he had gone too high last time) and-- SWING! KNOCK!

Rocketing toward the moving targets, Callum raised the bat above his head in anticipation and excitement for a direct hit-- aaaand then he lowered it, his shoulders slumping with it. The bludger had been CRUSHED right at a target off the bat, and that sucker got there MIGHTY FAST, but the moving target changed speed and direction on him at the last second before impact could occur.

Progress, though.

Looking for the snitch was one thing, speeding towards the spot you'd seen it was another, but chasing it in an attempt to close your hand around it was a whole separate thing entirely. Up until now, Abra could pretty much stay out of everyone's way, keep to himself, nice and removed, but now the little golden ball was well and truly leading him on a merry dance around the pitch. Not only that, but through the other players.

At first, he thought it was just going to take him back through the obstacle course, and it definitely seemed that way for a while (perhaps it could sense a vague sort of shelter, or it 'knew' that also navigating obstacles would impede its pursuer?), but of course it wasn't going to be that easy. As Abra sped after the snitch, zigging and zagging and diving and swerving all over the place to follow the route it had determined, he found it was leading him back through all the other stations, where Gryffindors were trying out for Beater, Chaser, or Keeper. This was risky, dangerous, even - had that been a bludger that just crossed behind him? Abra had definitely heard a shout of warning and had instinctively employed another Sloth Grip Roll, which had in turn slowed him down just a touch, but enough to put more distance between himself and the snitch (and it was sort of a good job he'd been going fast enough to avoid the bludger in the first place, as he had clearly avoided the bludger thanks to going flat out, not because he had rolled, but you know... reflexes) - but it was necessary. He NEEDED to catch that thing.

The snitch, naturally, didn't care where it took him, and proceeded to start darting in and out of everyone. Abra was determined not to let his eyes leave his golden prey, and later it would occur to him that actually this was excellent stuff to display in tryouts; navigating other players while not colliding with or distracting anyone too much, in case (in a game) the snitch remained uncaught and play was uninterrupted. He sped after it, nipping through the others as quickly and efficiently as he could.

In, out, up, down, around, ROLL, left, riGHT, LEFT AGAIN, UP. As he weaved his way through the Gryffindors who were busy shooting at or guarding the hoops, Abra thought, but did not waste any energy on saying, his apologies to them - 'scuse me, sorry, coming through, don't mind me, my apologies, thank you - before finally his pursuit brought him up and mercifully out of everyone's way, up, up, directly up into the air.

Abra didn't waste the opportunity; the snitch was finally moving in one straight direction, but it could dart away at any second. He urged his broom onwards, clinging tightly to it with one hand and both knees - it was more difficult (but SO much more exciting) when flying in a gravity-defying ninety degree angle from the ground - and stretched his right hand out towards the snitch. With a final burst of desperate speed, it came to just within his reach -- he quickly closed his fingers around it and snatched it out of the air.

Grinning to himself as the snitch beat its silver wings frantically for a moment around his clenched fist, Abra levelled his broom off and hovered in place. The wings calmed down, and the snitch seemed to resign itself to its fate, and Abra couldn't stop beaming. Such a fantastic feeling, catching one of these, though he had to admit that the feeling was much more thrilling, not to mention rewarding, when it was in the middle of a game and he was directly facing off with someone else, flying knee-to-knee with them, both their hands outstretched as they desperately tried to beat the other to the snitch grab.

At that thought, Abra suddenly remembered the others - not just the Seekers, but every other person trying out for he team - and looked down. What he saw gave him a bit of a shock.

He had flown a lot higher than he had realised. In his head, the pursuit hadn't taken long at all, and it was true that it had hardly gone on for ages, but a few seconds were enough to cover a surprising distance when going all out. The pitch and the other Gryffindors were far below, and Abra - who had never had a problem with heights - felt his head spin. But it passed, thankfully, and relatively quickly too, giving him a chance to fully appreciate the literal heights he had gone. It was really very peaceful up here. Not TOO cold, either, perhaps because he was finally not speeding around, and the sun was shining directly on him.

But he couldn't stay up there forever, and Abra knew that. He aimed his broom back towards the ground, and gave into the temptation to take on the distance in a daring dive. One-handed, too. The other was still clutching his prize, after all.

As it turns OUT, staying focused her portion of tryouts was actually a LOT harder than it looked. And mind you, Emma made it look ALMOST TOO EASY. So easy in fact, that she had purposely almost missed two of her turns when she was going SUPER FAST on her faaaaaast laps (she had to not make the others look TOO bad, right?), taking larger turns instead of sharp tight ones like the other seekers (read: Abey on his super awesome custom broom) had been doing.

BUT LOOK SHE WAS DONE WITH THAT PART NOW.

And she could join Rylee on the obstacle course! The second year zooooooooomed over to the hoops with a looud 'WHOOP WHOOP!' as she went through the first one upside down. That was EASY. Emma was NAILING this tryout. She was gonna be--OOF!

... She ran into a loop. Oops?

Maybe she should pay attention a little more on this bit.

OR MAYBE....

"Hey, firstie! Wanna race through them???" Emma shouted out her challenge, all grins and hair, WILDLY WAVING her down with one free hand (no handed riding in these conditions had not yet been mastered) while she went through another hoop, no running into it this time!!