CAT && mouse

[jessed:]

Eager to be in the hot breeze, feel the fresh air ruffling his hair, Scorpius tugged off his heavy robes. It felt good to throw them aside, ignoring the shrieks of mingled surprise and delight from the nearby girls. Classes had officially ended for the day, and Scorpius had no intention of going back and sitting in the dank, gloomy common room, when there was such warmth and fresh air outside.

He cursed his bloodlines. Time and time again, he had asked, why hadn't the Hat not been prejudiced to sort him into the house all his forefathers had been? It would have been interesting -refreshing - to sit up in that high Gryffindor tower, overlooking the scenic landscape of Hogwarts.

Scorpius bitterly held out his hand. His well trained Lightningbolt; a gift from his grandfather, something he treasured for once, shot into his grip. His fingers closed around the waxy wood, and he smiled down at the broomstick, immaculately kept, every twig neatly trimmed into a thin bundle, the glossy brown-gold handle a shimmering lustrous brilliance.

He glanced up; spied a spot of red amongst the crowd. Brilliant red locks, heading his way, flowing as a waterfall might. Scorpius never thought that description would ever fit anybody, but it seemed it did. And it seemed as if the person who possesed such red, red hair had a broomstick.

Scorpius grinned.

[Roxanne Annabelle Weasley]

[[Just a quick question. Is this an official hogwarts game, or just something friendly; as in no points would be added to the winning house or anything if roxy's team/scorpius' team won?]]

Roxanne loved being outside. Well, she loved being inside as well, since there was a lot more you could do inside, but outside was more fun. The fresh air, the outdoor sports, the fact that when it rains you can throw snowballs at people before legging it.. ahh, fun. Unfortunately for Roxanne, it wasn't snowing today. But at least classes were over. Urgh, it had been a very weird day. The young gryffindor had managed to get all her professor's frustrated, except one. Which made her frustrated. And that one professor she'd focused all her attention on to break her record for the number of professors which she pissed off in one day. But Roxy failed miserably, sad to say. Maybe he put a cheering charm on himself or something. Oh joy...

And now for some quidditch. Once her classes were over, she ran up to gryffindor common room, to her dorm, and grabbed her cleansweep, before coming back down. She loved her cleansweep almost as much as she loved her guitar. It was like her baby. She kept it in magnificent condition, especially since she could always 'borrow' the broomstick servicing kit from James, or ask her mother if she knew a charm which could clean the broom easily. Either way, it looked as though it was only born yesterday.

Eventually, once getting changed into her quidditch robes which she'd also taken from her common room, Roxanne stepped onto the pitch. She could hear squealing and giggles from girls a few yards away, but she couldn't tell what they were finding so remotely interesting. It wasn't much of her concern anyway, they were probably little first years, and they giggle at anything. Well, most of them do. Bella for example, was a decent first year, who actually acted a lot like Roxy. Wait, that didn't say much...

And that was when she spotted it. Among the dark colours which she noticed to be the slytherins, was a blond haired boy. Or something blond. She didn't really take it into account for long -- a lot of the boys in Hogwarts were blond haired, and so were the girls as a matter of fact. It wasn't exactly a rarity to find a blond haired person. Unlike her own hair colour - bright red, flaming locks. The first thing one would notice when they see her. It's why she sometimes dyed her hair blond; not just on occasions, but because she didn't feel like being noticed. Though that two was a rarity. Eventually, Roxanne stopped, a few meters in front of him, and laid her bright blue eyes upon him. Slytherin, blond, kinda posh looking. Dear lord. She already had an idea who's son it was, though she wasn't up to admitting that. And she didn't want to see whether he kept up the pureblood pride or not, either. Immediately, her eyes instead found a spot a few inches away from him, behind him, at one of the three goalposts on the pitch, her hand clasped more tightly around her broom than ever.

[jessed:]

[unofficial - it's just a friendly thing : D]

She was ignoring him.

That was Scorpius' first, semi-startled thought. Most girls wouldn't have been able to do that. So was this one worth the challenge? He swept his gaze up and down her. She looked like a regular riot-maker, her jaw clamped shut firmly as she gazed beyond his shoulder towards the goalposts. He even knew her name - Roxanne Weasley, well known for kicking up a bit of a trouble every now and then. She really lived up to her heritage, he thought, grinning.

Just to see her reaction, he mounted his broomstick, and kicked off. It was a glorious feeling, rushing through the air with nothing but a flimsy piece of wood beneath him, everyone else meaningless specks on the ground. He touched the side of the broomstick lightly, and it curved back around. He came to a halt on the ground beside her.

"You're the Weasley girl, aren't you?" he said, his gaze more on the air in front of him; it wouldn't do to actually face her, or tap her on the shoulder, as that simply was not his style.

Too late, he realized 'Weasley girl' might seem a little too arrogant. But then again, he'd been trying to appear offhand.

[Roxanne Annabelle Weasley]

After a few moments, her eyes occasionally drifting back and forth between the boy and the goal post behind him, Roxanne felt something kick against her leg, and she realized what was in her other hand. Not her broom, silly. The trunk. She'd have thought that by now, with the number of detentions she'd had in the past, she would be unable to play quidditch as a punishment. But no, the professors around here hadn't seemed to realize that their form of punishment didn't work on her, and they ought to try something new. Well, Roxanne wasn't complaining. She placed the trunk firmly on the ground, keeping a hand on it as she lifted up the top, in case a bludger banged so hard, its restrains would snap and it'd be off. And we didn't want that to happen in the company of so many unsuspecting students now, would we? Wait... there's an idea... A wicked smile crept upon her face, as she turned her head around to look at the kids, the girls who had been giggling earlier still there, staring from the boy to Roxy. It didn't take more than three guesses as to what they were thinking, and to be honest, Roxanne was more than repulsed. Eurgh, son of Draco malfoy, and... her? Unthinkable. Stupid. It would never happen, and she'd have to make sure they'd know that before they left the grounds.

After a moment, she heard a noise. As though something had whooshed past her, or nearby. She frowned, and looked up, noticing the boy. Bloody showoff. She simply rolled her eyes, and realized how hypocritical she was being. She showed off everyday, in front of hundreds of kids, whether it was with her guitar, or her style of clothing, or her pranks. But somehow, that was different. And when she figured out how, she'd let you know. Her eyes laid on the trunk again, each with the three different quidditch balls, and four bats inside, for the two beaters on each team playing. She didn't bother letting out a snitch, but instead, when she was sure it was safe enough, she let out a bludger, and picked up one of the bats, jumping onto her cleansweep so she was just hovering above the ground. Kids went running, trying to stay away from the flying ball as much as possible, but instead of going for any first years, it went for her, Roxanne. She hit it as hard as she could, and the sound was; as always; excruciatingly loud. And it flew out of sight. She smiled, and turned, just in time to see the boy beside her.

"You're the Weasley girl, aren't you?"

Roxanne didn't appreciate being called 'Weasley girl', but she didn't show it. She was quite used to it by now; being called any sort of name to do with her family. Even 'Weasel' if it came to it. Well, how nice that the name hadn't gone out of fashion..."That's right. You're the Malfoy kid, aren't you?" she asked him, with a smirk, playing his own game, or whatever he was trying to do. And she knew he knew he'd deserved it. Somehow...

[jessed:]

"That's right. You're the Malfoy kid, aren't you?"

Scorpius winced. Ouch, he thought silently, but he deserved it. Still, there was no denying it - the girl had style. Her blue eyes seemed to challenge him. Her face was pleasantly flushed, and he could almost catch a hint of mania, the one that he associated with adrenalin and flying, in her eyes. He cast a glance towards her broomstick - a well-loved Cleansweep Seven.

That was interesting. One eyebrow shot up slightly, but he pulled it down just in time. He wondered, for a moment, just how well one could play on such a broomstick. Quickly, Scorpius silenced the thought, irritated at the prejudice that lived in his blood from so many years confined to the Malfoy Manor. Still, here was the famed Roxanne Weasley, daughter of one of his father's enemies. He wondered briefly whether she'd be trained in Quidditch to match her family's expertise in the air. If so, he could almost imagine heading off against her in the next inter-House Quidditch match.

Still, why not now? he wondered. He slid backwards a bit on his broom, his fingers rubbing against the gold inlay of his broomstick's brand. He wasn't exactly proud of such a flashy model; in fact, a regular Cleansweep would've done him just fine. The number of Galleons spent on his clothing, on his books, on his broom irritated him. He was almost sure that every member of the Gryffindor Quidditch team were convinced he had an advantage. Still, maybe she'd be different. Just maybe she'd play against him. It was worth a shot.

"Scorpius." he said shortly, in regards to her previous question, "Say, are you any good in the air?"

He noticed the Bludger bat in her hand around the same time, and wondered whether it was worth provoking her to see whether she'd actually take a swing at him. The very thought made him smile a wide grin; one that other girls' would've killed to see.

[Roxanne Annabelle Weasley]

He was looking at her broomstick. Her beautiful cleansweep. Yeah, it was an old version, out before she was even born, but she loved it. You hear that world? She LOVED it. She looked at his face, observing him for a moment, and was about to look away, when she saw his eyebrow shoot up for a second, before being pulled down again. That was awkward. She frowned, a little annoyed at the thought of him perhaps thinking against her cleansweep. Jeez, the millions of thoughts which could be going around in his head right now...

"Scorpius. Say, are you any good on that thing?"

Roxanne could have burst out laughing, but she resisted the temptation, except for a tiny crooked smile which had appeared upon her face. Her blue eyes looked cold though, as though the blue stones inside had hardened, and she didn't know how to react. Calm, or angry, that he'd basically disrespected her 'baby'. She leaned forward on her broomstick, both hands underneath her chin, one still holding onto the bat dangerously -- perfect balance.

"Have you seen me in a quidditch match?" she asked him, smirking slightly. He was smiling too. It would have made her cold heart melt, had it not been for the fact that she wasn't too keen on his presence really. Maybe it was just that her parents knew his father in school; and if he turned out to be like his father was as a teen... we may just be looking at a death eater here, folks. "If not, would you care to find out?" she continued to ask. The bludger came down now, straight for Scorpius' head. She'd almost forgotten about that lethal weapon which she'd momentarily let loose. She swerved her broom around, her back facing the young slytherin, her bat out, ready. And she swung upwards. The bludger flew, unable to change direction, high into the air. The clouds almost masked its presence, and for a while it couldn't be seen. And then it shot back again. She jumped off her broom, leaving it to hover in midair, then grabbed hold of the bludger with both hands. It struggled against her grasp, and for a moment she almost toppled to the floor, but she held it to her stomach, and lifted one hand away for a second to open the top of the trunk. Finally, she placed it back in, sorting out its straps to keep it from flying out again, and shut the trunk. After doing this, she turned back to Scorpius, blowing a piece of hair from out of her face, and smiling.

[jessed:]

She leant forward, one hand gripping the Bludger bat firmly, her two blue eyes cold and fiercer than ever. Scorpius didn't lose his nerve though, despite the girl's threatening gaze. She was exactly how he'd percieved her – a prankster, but at the same time, sticking up for her pride and joy, her broomstick. Another slight grin flitted across his face; maybe she was more similar to him than he'd expected. He nudged his broomstick casually, letting it roll around so that it's nameplate was obscured from view; there was no need for anyone else to see that. Broomsticks would be broomsticks, no matter whether a sack or a handful of Galleons had been spent upon them.

Before he could answer her questions, though, the girl had suddenly swerved. It was beautiful – almost poetic, Scorpius thought in surprise, the way her body angled as she shifted the broom backwards, her frame tense. He had no idea what she was doing. And then he saw the Bludger, it's pitted and cracked charcoal surface spinning wildly through the air, aimed towards the top of his tender cranium. Frozen with surprise, Scorpius didn't move. He could dodge aside, but then his broomstick would break, and that would send him spinning into the hard turf – either way, he'd get injured. It was too late for him to do a thing now. Scorpius cursed his stupidity.

Something cracked through the air, and the Bludger, inches from his cranium, impacted heavily and shot off in the opposite direction. Scorpius turned; saw Roxanne, her firm erect, her face flushed with exertion and her red hair spilling about her shoulders, the bat thrust forward victoriously. She'd been the one to whack it away. He opened his mouth to speak, and then stopped; the Bludger was back again. He pulled at his broom, cartwheeling away, and in the thrill of the chase, turned back for a moment. And stared. Roxanne had leapt off her broomstick, the Cleansweep waiting there patiently, and was now wrestling the Bludger back into the case. He dismounted immediately, landing neatly with one hand outstretched, his leg tensed behind him, and then sprinted towards her. But in any case, there really had been no need – the Bludger thrashed a final time, but Roxanne had mastered the technique to force it back into the case.

She turned to face him, a piece of hair blown out of her eyes, and grinned. He grinned back – no doubt he had to see her in action to gain a new sense of respect for her.

“I take back my words. Still, seeing as you haven't seen me in a Quidditch match, and I haven't seen you, how about a game, right here, right now?”

They'd need more players for that, but that didn't matter. They could always find more. Finally, a head-off that would be talked of for weeks; Gryffindor against Slytherin, Weasley against Malfoy.

[Roxanne Annabelle Weasley]

It was nice that, despite the fact that Roxanne had been able to get the bludger back in the trunk without his help, that he'd offered. He could have just sat there and watched her, or even worse laughed at her attempts, and how much the bludger was trying to hurt her in order to get free, but he didn't. She respected that. As she jumped onto her broom once more, she watched as he grinned back, then listened to him speak.

“I take back my words. Still, seeing as you haven't seen me in a Quidditch match, and I haven't seen you, how about a game, right here, right now?”

For a second, Roxanne looked as though she was mulling it over. Well, she really wasn't. Roxanne already had her answer ready, though she didn't want to sound too eager -- she did have that little thing called pride you know, and if she said yes immediately, then it would be like one of his wretched fan girls agreeing to go on a date with him, and bouncing about at the thought. She really couldn't stand them much longer -- they were testing her patience, the way they looked at her as though she was the luckiest woman on earth, and they wanted that. Yes, the bludger kept them away for a while, but now they were back, just staring at him, and it was driving Roxy crazy that she had to have a conversation with them giggling and staring in awe and jealousy in the background. As far as she was concerned, they could have him; she wasn't all that interested. And she still wouldn't be if there weren't three years difference either, just to make that clear.

"You're on." Roxanne replied after a minute, raising an eyebrow slightly, and grinning. Of course, they'd need more players. Maybe some of them little girls were good at quidditch. Wait, no. Obviously they were easily distracted. She wondered if she could round up members of the team in something short of a second, but that was clearly impossible. Or very close to it anyway. Still, it was the sort of thing which would be talked about, which would be famous for years to come. The Malfoys had never gotten on too well with the Weasleys. His grandfather bickered with Roxy's grandfather; His dad argued with her dad, although thank heavens her dad hadn't seen much of his father since hogwarts years, as far as she knew. Well, at least they were breaking a tradition -- a feud if you will. Because to be quite honest, Roxanne wasn't really up to arguing with some rich family just because the rest of them had been stupid enough to do so.

[jessed:]

“You're on.”

Scorpius had noticed Roxanne's eyes flickering to the gaggle of gossiping girls, enviously eying her up and down, a look of distaste upon her features. He couldn't understand it either; if they were seriously thinking that there was something going on between a fourth-year and a seventh-year, then they were worse than he'd expected. He jerked his head casually towards the crowd, knowing that she was already looking there, and rolled his eyes in exaggerated slow motion, hoping for a laugh.

“We won't be looking to them as potential team-mates,” he quipped, “they'd probably fall off their brooms giggling the moment we fly within two meters of them.”

To be fair, Scorpius wasn't quite sure how much of his words applied to Roxanne. Nonetheless, he was sure that if she decided to suddenly divebomb the group of fangirls, they'd fall off their broomsticks – screaming at least. He winced at the visual image of those girls so much as playing Quidditch; he was sure there would be numerous casualties. Instead, he kicked at the back of his broomstick, warning it that speed would be crucial in the next few moments.

“How 'bout this,” he suggested, “we have sixty seconds in which to gather our team? That way, I can't go and scout out the top three Quidditch players ...” he grimaced again, “and I won't be looking for heavyweights, either. I got crushed by one once – not an experience I'd care to relive.”

[Roxanne Annabelle Weasley]

“We won't be looking to them as potential team-mates, they'd probably fall off their brooms giggling the moment we fly within two meters of them.”

Roxanne couldn't help but laugh, especially as she saw him roll his eyes. At least he didn't think much of them; that probably meant he didn't purposely go scouting for them. The boy was slowly, but surely, growing on her. "I don't think they'd be able to even get on their brooms, to be all that honest." she responded, as her gaze left them, and returned to Scorpius. It was a mere fact, if you think about it. The girls would be so focused on playing quidditch with Scorpius, or even being on his team, if they were lucky enough, or if they tried their best at sucking up to him, that they'd probably be unable to swing their leg up high enough, or they'd probably just fall over in stitches, gasping for breath every time they tried. Now that would be a funny prank... if the intended victim was a serious quidditch player. But maybe later.

“How 'bout this, we have sixty seconds in which to gather our team? That way, I can't go and scout out the top three Quidditch players ... and I won't be looking for heavyweights, either. I got crushed by one once – not an experience I'd care to relive.”

sixty seconds? Ouch; Roxanne'd be lucky to get two in that time. But she guessed Scorpius would be the same two. That meant she'd have to just pick the first six who came her way, though she would be careful to 'accidentally' not seek out the fan girls for this -- too risky. Imagine all the cat fights which could happen between them; then put the cat fights on brooms, and give them bludgers. Not a pleasant idea. Nevertheless, she gave a nod, and jumped off her broom once more. "Three... two...one..." she paused for a moment, her eyes piercing his, ready to take him by surprise. Seconds ticked on, and after about fifteen, perhaps twenty, she shouted "Go!" and ran after the first person she saw, a tallish gryffindor boy, probably in fifth year. She grabbed him by the arm, and scooted him over to her broom which was still hovering in the air, before literally planting him down next to it. "Stay." she warned him, as though she was talking to a dog, before running over to two ravenclaw girls, who were sitting on the grass in front of the stands. She didn't guess what they were doing, though it was probably studying -- ravenclaws, always with the studying. She checked her watch.

Forty seconds.

Roxanne tugged at the two girls, and forced them to stand up, leaving their books and such behind, over to where the gryffindor boy was. Once more, she checked her watch.

Thirty seconds.

Crap. Okay okay. three more left. She spotted a hufflepuff girl walk past, and grabbed her back as she did so, then pulled, forcing her to stop going wherever it was she was off to. Two more. Okay, err.. Roxanne was getting panicky now. There weren't many more students in sight. She spotted a second year Gryffindor boy, talking to a hufflepuff boy, sixth year, and ran over to them. They were a long way away. For the last time, she checked her watch.

Ten seconds.

Oh merlin! She sped up the pace, and grabbed hold of them, then began to drag them back, counting down in her head.

Six, five, four.

Her feet continued moving, running. Almost there.

Three, two, one.

Made it.

Time was up.

Quickly, Roxanne began pointing to the confused people, each assigning them roles. "Chaser, chaser, chaser" she pointed at the two ravenclaws, and the hufflepuff girl. "Beater." she pointed at the fifth year gryffindor. "Seeker." she told the sixth year hufflepuff boy. "Keeper." she finally said to the second year gryffindor. "Any questions?" she asked. Nope. Okay, now where were the freakin' brooms?

[jessed:]

"I don't think they'd be able to even get on their brooms, to be all that honest."

Scorpius grinned at the quip; she'd gone one step beyond his remark, and he had to say, he agreed with her. A mental image of the girls, falling over their broomsticks in a vain attempt to impress him, entered his mind, and he quickly glanced away, concentrating on the goalpost lest he burst out laughing, thus hurting his fangirls feelings. Because, despite their obvious need to appeal to him, they were still human after all. Nonetheless, he grinned, sharing a knowing look with Roxanne.

”Three ...” the girl counted, intent on grabbing as many Quidditch players as she could, “two ... one ... Go!”

She sprinted off, and Scorpius took off in the opposite direction. Two fangirls placed themselves directly in front of him, but he squeezed himself in between them, having no intention to select either as a potential Quidditch-mate. A group of three Ravenclaws passed in front of him, one of them pulling Keeper gloves onto his callused hands – that was good enough for Scorpius. He seized them by the shoulder, dragging them forward, and placing them firmly beside his broomstick. One of them opened his mouth to say something, but Scorpius shook his head firmly, indicating he had no time for words, and thrust his hand down firmly. Stay. He heard the word echoed elsewhere, and turned to see Roxanne, dashing off again. Scorpius grinned.

Half a minute left. He cast his gaze left-right, looking for somebody, anybody, except those darned girls. A blonde Hufflepuff sat in a nook of the wall, engrossed in her Witch Weekly; Scorpius lifted the magazine delicately, and pulled it after him, and the Hufflepuff came to stand beside the other Ravenclaws, now looking bemused. Scorpius checked his watch, already striding briskly in the opposite direction; twenty-five seconds, twenty-four ... He had to hurry. Two more players, but who? He could grab a nice Slytherin, of course, but for some reason the idea was majorly unappealing.

A slight-framed Gryffindor first-year passed, and although no-one else would have chosen someone as weedy, Scorpius decided then and there that the boy had the frame for a Chaser. After all, the smallest of Chasers moved quickly. He stopped, shared a friendly smile, and then pulled the startled boy over his shoulder, dumping him next to the rest of his assorted team. For the final time, Scorpius checked his watch – five seconds. Crap, he mouthed silently, then dashed through the courtyard in search of one final player. It almost seemed like the whole world was avoiding him now, carefully dashing out of his way.

Scorpius seized another Ravenclaw third-year, dragging the bewildered girl behind him. He spied a pile of broomsticks; waving his wand hastily, he caused twelve broomsticks to avalanche out and follow him, innocent passer-bys shrieking with surprise. At last, he found himself on the pitch, next to his bemused team, half of which were beginning to question him. He smiled sheepishly at them, and turned back to Roxanne.

”Six prime players and broomsticks for all; reckon you can beat that? he laughed teasingly.

[note: the hufflepuff girl 'tis either juliette/izzy, depending who wants to play xD]

[Juliette Lyn Cauldwell]

((joined Roxy's team, hope that's alright with both of you. Izzy can join Scorpio's then, if she wants.))

The weather was unusually warm and pleasant as classes ended for the day, and Juliette Cauldwell, like many others, felt herself irresistibly drawn out-of-doors. With an amount of discipline she hardly ever displayed, the fifth-year fairly raced back to her room in the Hufflepuff dorm to retrieve the rest of the books she needed, with firm intentions to complete at least some of her assignments for the coming days. Jules’ motivation this time was a promise to herself that once she completed one and part of another of the assigned essays, she would allow herself a bit of flying practice as a reward. “Work before play” was an old system. but in the rare cases that she chose to use it, it seemed to work quite well for her.

In the adequate room that she shared with three other fifth year girls, Jules dropped the text books she no longer needed onto her desk and then turned to the task of picking out the ones that she needed to do her assignments. “Now, what do I have? History of Magic.” Jules frowned slightly as she pulled the text out of her row of books and set it on what would become her small stack of books to take out with her. She didn’t know anyone who actually enjoyed the subject or class, though she understood how it could be important in some ways. Of course, she preferred more practical lessons, like most of her peers. The history essay she had to write would take a while to complete, but she resigned herself with the fact that it would be better to do it early on and get it over with. The only other homework she had was in Charms, a practical assignment this time, and since she knew the spell, she needed only her wand to work on it. Ensuring it was safely in the pockets of her robe, she placed a rather lengthy scroll on top of the text, as well as a quill and ink. On her way out the door, she paused to grab her broom, deciding she’d rather not have to spend the time to come back and get it when she was ready.

Once finally outside, Jules took a long, deep breath of the warm, fresh air; her broad smile at the thought of flying through that blue sky couldn’t be dampened by the homework that she had to complete first. Now to find the perfect place to work. Juliette was just about to claim her spot beneath one of the Hogwarts grounds’ many trees when she found herself being pulled backwards. Looking back, she saw that it was a Gryffindor, a Weasley, though she didn’t know her personally. Jules started to ask her what was wrong when the girl suddenly ran off in the direction of two other students.

Now left with a Gryffindor boy and two Ravenclaw girls who looked as dumbstruck as she currently felt, she could only watch and wait for the “leader” of this action to return and explain. Ever observant, she noticed the hovering broom near them, and, counting the current number as well as the students the Weasley girl was now dragging toward them, the fifth year quickly deduced that she was putting together some sort of Quidditch team, apparently for a pick-up match. That fit with her knowledge of this girl as a Quidditch player, and with the assignments they were soon given.

In spite of her earlier determination to get her homework completed first, this spontaneous match was a more than welcome distraction, and though she would have been content to play any position, she felt, out of loyalty to this temporary captain, that she set her straight on positions. ”Miss Weasley,” she said politely but firmly, and suddenly she remembered the Gryffindor’s first name. “Roxanne, isn’t it?” Juliette continued, not waiting for a response as she set down her book and study supplies. “If you don’t mind, I actually play Seeker on the Hufflepuff team, and Samuels,” she indicated the boy Roxanne had assigned her usual position, “is a chaser.” Glancing around the Quidditch pitch Juliette noticed what had to be the other team - led by none other than Scorpius Malfoy. Oh, this would be interesting.

[Roxanne Annabelle Weasley]

Roxanne turned around, to see Scorpius had his team ready two. She expected it really -- she had, why not him? But she was so not in the mood. Sure, quidditch was fun and everything, but part of her -- most of her in fact -- wanted to win. To prove something, though she wasn't quite sure what that something was. That you didn't need flashy broomsticks to win? She'd noticed how expensive his looked, though she didn't know the brand. Or maybe that gryffindor was just as good as slytherin when it came to quidditch? No, only one or two members of her team were gryffindors. Maybe that -- no, she was the only weasley on this team. So what exactly was she trying to prove? The only thing she could think of was that she could pick out better people for quidditch than Scorpius, but they'd both kind of grabbed the nearest people in sight, hadn't they? Roxanne just wished she knew what she was trying to prove. A moment later, and she realized she wasn't trying to prove anything. She was just trying to show off. Yeah, well... who cares anyway? The brooms flew past; something which she had tried to look for and failed in the process; then stopped nearby the slytherin's team. She rolled her eyes; show off. Though now she was just being a hypocrite -- wasn't she thinking mere moments ago that she was the one trying to show off?

”Six prime players and broomsticks for all; reckon you can beat that?"

Roxanne simply glared at him, and started snatching brooms off his team. It wasn't like they needed all of them. "You're forgetting who has the quidditch balls, pal." she retaliated, rather bitterly. He started it; teasing her. Roxy didn't appreciate being outdone. And who says they're actually any good at quidditch anyway? They might look it, but in reality, they may just suck. She prayed that was true, as she heard someone speak. The hufflepuff girl she'd assigned as seeker.

”Miss Weasley,”

Wow. Posh and prim, huh? She actually liked the ring of it to be honest. Miss Weasley. It made her sound superior, though her face didn't show any of them emotions. A girl could get used to that sort of thing.

“Roxanne, isn’t it? If you don’t mind, I actually play Seeker on the Hufflepuff team, and Samuels, is a chaser.”

She didn't have time for this. She just kind of wanted to get on the pitch, and win. But at least she had two good players on her team -- it meant something. It meant there was a; a good chance of catching the snitch before Scorpius' team did, and b; a good chance of scoring some goals. "Then swap over." she replied simply, most annoyance and stress hidden as well as she could from her voice, though the way she spoke still sounded a little off, as though she was under some sort of pressure. Did it really matter who got what position, so long as they could play it? And if they couldn't, surely she could call a time out and rethink strategies, right? She began passing brooms, careful not to give to those who had one, like the hufflepuff girl, and dropping the spares on the ground. Then, she let out the snitch, and the bludger, which both began to zoom around carefully. She took one of the bats for herself, and gave the other one to the gryffindor boy, her 'beater', if you will, before picking the quaffle up, then climbing onto her still patient broom. She turned to the hufflepuff girl -- her new seeker. "Whatever you do, don't grab the snitch until we're at fifty points or above. If you see his go for it, distract." she muttered quietly, trying to keep her voice from finding it's way to Scorpius. It was simple tactics, really. If they were at fifty points or above, and the slytherin seeker got the snitch, they'd still win, or draw at least. And then, she threw the quaffle up into the air.

Game on.