Round II: Montagnard vs. Feu

Professor Bowen had been counting on clear skies for the second Quidditch match of the term. She got her wish granted, though mere days before the scheduled match they experienced a snow storm. The pitch looked like a winter wonderland with all the beauty of being covered in snow drifts but all the unpleasantness of slippery slopes and icicles dangling over the goals. Though not ideal, Bowen found it be to nothing worth cancelling the match over and decided to go on with the game anyways.

She remained perched on her broom as both teams filed out of the locker rooms and the crowd went wild. The wind picked up, blotting out most noise and causing a white out for a brief moment before settling down again. "Not to worry," Professor Bowen uttered, mostly to herself. She had confidence in each team player to be able to play despite the come and go whiteouts.

"Captains shake hands and good luck," She said, releasing the quaffle and beginning the match.

Announcers for this match will be Guenevere Ainsworth and Charlotte Antonin

How had Lucie gone from knowing nothing about Quidditch to becoming keeper and team captain in such a short period of time? She wasn't at all sure how that happened and she was nervous. Beyond nervous. "So I guess we'll do our best right?" she said to the team. Very uncertain times where ahead and Lucie wondered if perhaps Professor Bowen hadn't really thought things through when making one very inexperienced first year captain.

She let her feet carry her out of the changerooms to a Quidditch pitch which looked very different to how it looked any other time. The stands were filled with spectators and on the pitch were teams in uniforms. House colour uniforms. Lucie swallowed and stepped forward to shake the hand of the much older Montagnard captain. She must look so small and young in his eyes.

There was no more time to think any further. She was off the ground and up in front of the goal hoops. This was no longer a trial or practice. This would be the real thing.

Feu: 0
Montagnard: 0

Philip grinned at his team. He was so excited over being captain and really hoped that he wouldn’t mess up. “Alright, we’ve worked really hard and practiced for this match and I know we’re going to do just fine. It’s the first match and I’m not expecting perfect playing, but let’s put a hundred percent into this game.” He nodded. Mabel’s speeches generally entailed telling them not to fuck up. So, hopefully his pre-game speech was more up lifting.

He led his team out to the pitch and waved up to Charlie in the announcer’s box. Philip stepped forward when Bowen called the captains to shake hands. He gently shook her hand and smiled. “Good luck.” She was so small and frightened, so he was kind of hoping that would work in favor of his team. The whistle was blown and Philip hopped on his broom, kicking off the ground.

Feu: 0
Montagnard: 0

Halfway through Philip's encouraging speech, Harley sneezed quietly. She was suffering from a cold, a gift from her sick roommate. Unlike her roommate, though, she was on the quidditch team and couldn't stay in bed. Plus, she had to make classes. The chilling weather wasn't exactly helping her feel any better either. She shook her head and waited for the whistle to be blown while mounting her broom. With her bat gripped tight in her hand, she carefully watched the small Feu captain shake hands with Philip. Soon after they exchanged greeting and wishing of good luck, the whistle was blown and they kicked off.

The game was off to a slow start, but Harley made sure to knock and bludgers towards any of their opponents. A small sneeze shook her for a second and made her close her eyes, so when she opened them, a bludger zoomed past her straight for Heather. She quickly shot towards it and batted it away before it could throw her teammate to the ground.

Feu: 0
Montagnard: 0

Beauregard's nerves left him thoroughly nervous for the upcoming game. He knew he would be the inexperienced seeker and had used his free time practicing catching various tossed objects while on his broomstick. No amount of practice could've settled the twist in his stomach.

He wasn't able to eat breakfast and left on his way towards the pitch after downing a hot coffee. His hands felt clammy on his broomstick. It was no big deal really if he messed up. The snitch was only worth 150 points, which was incredibly unlikely to outscore, he thought to himself. He heaved a sigh and then looked towards his captain; Lucie Banken. She was about his age and yet the pressure on her was greater than his. He wondered how she felt at that moment, but could wonder no longer for the whistle was blown and suddenly he was reminded of his task.

Wind blew carrying the light snow on the ground back into the sky, making for awful seeking conditions. He desperately sought out a glint of gold in the storm, gliding carefully through the air and mess of players focused on different tasks. He didn't have to worry about them, just himself and the little winged ball.

Feu: 0
Montagnard: 0

Lucie was nervous. Far too nervous as she waited in front of the goals for the red ball to come down her end. In her nerves she'd already forgotten the correct terminology for it. It started with a 'Q'. That was all she could remember then she had no time to try and remember it as the red ball was headed toward the right hand goal. Lucie flew the short distance from where she hovered to the hoop and missed. The first goal of the match and it didn't go to her team.

She shook her head as a way to clear her mind and waited fro the next time it was to come down her end. If her team lost this match she was going to do even more doubting over her fitness to be team captain than she already was doing now. The next goal, however, was for her own team but from what she'd read up on Quidditch and the practices her team had she knew it wasn't over until that snitch was caught.

Feu: 10
Montagnard: 10

Being sick was so... ugh. Every time she moved too suddenly (which was every time she hit a bludger) she would be plagued by horrible coughs. After a while she wondered if her playing was worse for the team than her not participating at all, but she came to the conclusion that the game had started and if she left suddenly it would be a huge mistake. All in all, their team was struggling with this game, and it would mean a longer, more challenging practice if the team lost to the first years.

Hopefully, Cori would catch the snitch soon so they could get out of the cold weather. Even though she had layered properly, she was beginning to feel the tingling feeling of hypothermia in her toes, which was really never good. All she could do for now, though, was continue to block the bludgers from smashing into her teammates.

Montagnard: 30
Feu: 20

Cori had been so proud of herself and her team when they'd beaten Cerisier last year, but this year was proving to be much more difficult already. Last year, Cori was on top of the world. She'd played a big role in sealing a victory for her house team winning the cup, but today it felt like none of her senses worked. She was flying in circles frustrated and trying to pick up where the snitch was, but it wasn't coming. She exhaled angrily (which was 90% at herself, 10% at the golden ball), and flew lower to the ground. She was hopeful she'd hear or see something, but right now there was nothing.

Montagnard: 30
Feu: 20

Charlie was incredibly bored by this game. It was so low scoring and menial. Couldn't someone do something unique. Ugh. At least her boyfriend was cute. She said as much, but it definitely was not the same as last year. "Where's the intensity?" She found herself asking into the microphone. "I want excitement. Not patty cake out there. Kill somebody!" She giggled softly into the microphone. "Both keepers have done exceptionally well and keeping the score as low and uninteresting as possible. So there's that. I suppose." Charlie twirled a strand of her hair. She really was trying to figure out what to say, but it just wasn't happening.

Montagnard: 30
Feu: 20

Guen hadn't said anything yet at all this game. She was a little upset not being able to announce for Trent, but oh well. Maybe the next match she'd be able too. And she was getting bored. She could tell that Charlie was too. She sighed softly into the microphone. "Dang Montagnards! What happened to the scoring fiends you were last year!" Bad Guenevere attempting to egg on the chasers. She rested her chin in the palm of her hand. "Let's go people!" She squinted to see what the seekers were up to. Nothing. There was nothing good to say at all about this game. How horribly annoying. If Trent was playing she'd be announcing goal after goal.

Monatgnard: 30
Feu: 20

Lucie shivered as her body seemed to finally register the coldness of the day. She really wanted to game to end now, preferably with Bo catching the snitch. Instead she was failing to block goals and was getting progressively colder. Should she yell at him or just focus on her job as keeper? It was so hard to know when she didn't really know either Quidditch or captaining that well. Not at all. Lucie just never played sport at her old school unless she was made to.

Another goal got past her. "Come on Bo. Please?" she pleaded and thus making the decision she'd had trouble making earlier without thinking about it. She was cold and frustrated and right now was feeling like a failure. When would this game end? Well she knew it was the catching of the snitch but when was a seeker going to catch it?

Feu: 40
Montagnard: 50

The game was lasting for what seemed like an eternity. He had watched the fall's Quidditch game when Cerisier played Nuage and recalled the whole thing to go by in a breeze. Maybe that was because he was watching that game rather than playing it. However, judging by the voices coming from the commentary box, this game wasn't even pleasurable to watch.

His gloves were soaked through with snow and his fingers felt numb. Grasping his broomstick was one task but Bo knew actually managing to capture the snitch was another. He had spent the whole game flying the pitch aimlessly. He had practiced the catching of the snitch but apparently not spotting it, for it was taking so long to do so. He wondered if the snitch was even still around the pitch. "Maybe a gust of wind blew it off course," Bo entertained the thought. It certainly was windy enough. However, as if on cue, he spotted a glint of gold and wasted no time in speeding after it.

He was alarmingly closer to the snitch than he had thought and it took no time to catch up. The snitch swayed off course, but Bo was quick to follow. He wanted to get the game done and over with and incited by the spectacle of Montagard's seeker catching up to him, Bo quickly lunged for the snitch. He leaned to far and his numb hand slide off of the broom hilt, sending the young seeker free falling from his broom. He landed in one of the snow drifts collected in the pitch, cushioning his fall some. Slowly he recovered to his feet and opened his hand. He had thought he had grabbed at plain air, but a small golden ball with wings rested in his icy hand. He had caught the snitch.

Feu: 190
Montagnard: 60

"A rough lost for Montagnard and it would appear to be the end of their winning streak.” Guen literally just let the words slip out. Hopefully she wouldn’t get punched by the clearly angry captain and his girlfriend that was currently sitting next to her. “Best of luck to the team next year!  You guys will be back on your feet in no time, I’m sure.” She said encouragingly. Guen hoped that made up for the insult she basically told them. “And congratulations to Feu for their win, good luck in your next round!” She ended cheerfully and quickly stood to go find Trent.

Feu: 190
Montagnard: 60

Philip will admit that he played like utter shit in this game. (And Guen was not helping at all). The first and last game his team would see for the year. Ugh. He was so disappointed in himself. He felt bad for his team because he’s clearly the reason they didn’t do well. Philip was no drill sergeant like Mabel, but he had a firm hand and thought he had prepared them. Maybe the other seeker just got lucky, who knows.

Philip hopped off his broom and went over to congratulate the other captain. He sighed softly  then gathered his team into the changing rooms. Philip put on a smile for his team, saying some more encouraging things about how they’ll make a come back next year. With that he hurried to change so that he could mope around in his dorm in peace.

Feu: 190
Montagnard: 60

Charlie felt awful when Montagnard lost. "It's okay, Montagnard, we'll win next year. I promise." Charlie said into the microphone. She felt so bad for Philip. She loved him so much. She'd have to spend whole day making him feel better for sure. She knew he was determined to win, and that a loss would totally crush him. "Congrats, Feu." Charlie said before hurrying to Philip's dorm to meet him there. She bit her lip gently. Her poor baby worked his bum off for this season, and he lost. It was horrible. She bit her lip gently. She just felt so bad in general.

Feu: 190
Montagnard: 60