Throw it in a Puddle

Lucie stared at the life-sized poster of English quidditch team, Puddlemere United. Her brow wrinkled at the sight of an out of place poster here in France. "It's not right," she muttered. Her voice rose sharply as she added, "they don't even play here," her hand waving at the offensive poster. She wouldn't be anywhere near as offended if the poster had been one of the rival French teams to the one she played on (sat on the bench for).

The Quiberon Quafflepunchers would have made much more sense considering how well they were doing in the latest season of the French league. They always did well. Even the years when they don't make the finals you can guaranteed their performance was good. It was only because those years there had been other teams which outperformed them which kept them out of the finals. Not so much her own team. Bottom of the ladder again last season. "Why do you think that's been put up?" she asked one a passer-by and pointed at the poster. "Are they coming over here to play?" If so why hadn't she heard? Surely if that'd been the case every player in the French league would have been informed.