Prior Forbs (Draco)
This is not my best day ever...
Wed May 14, 2014 22:41
173.173.104.104

        Though Prior had learned a lot about the wizarding sport of Quidditch, not all of these educational experiences were entirely voluntary. Surrounded by pre-teen boys who thought the most important things in life included sports and being seen with a girl (no matter what relationship he and the girl actually had) Prior now knew the basics of all the Quidditch rules, matches, teams, and at least one hundred and fifty of the seven hundred types of Quidditch fouls. Nobody ever said Prior wasn't a quick learner. Still, this knowledge, in his mind, translated into, "I know far more about Quidditch than I had ever wanted to or even dreamed of wanting to." Naturally, when the Quidditch lessons were posted in his new Draco common room (that had this wonderful library...) he had immediately rolled his eyes and made plans to be sick that day.

        When all the other first year boys had started talking more and more excitedly about it, however, Prior's curiosity had gotten the better of him. If he had to know about Quidditch from whoever he talked to anyway, he may at least learn enough about it to carry a conversation about the joys of flying. It may even help him to gain some connections among the younger children that might come in useful later. Hopefully, it would be useful enough to make up for the humiliation of getting sweaty on the open grounds of the Quidditch Field. (Prior could almost hear three boys yell out in sync, "Quidditch Pitch!") Prior, perhaps somewhat pessimistically, somewhat doubted that.

        Therefore, of the morning of the Quidditch lessons, Prior had gotten up and dressed in the single pair of jeans that he had taken with him and a pajama shirt that he supposed looked enough like a t-shirt that anybody may not be able to tell the difference. Prior's trunk of clothes included only nice suits, pants, shoes, and ties (that looked remarkably awkward on an eleven year old boy who was slightly plump and, though not short, not that tall either) a few sets of pajama clothes (that all seemed to look more like what an eleven year old boy might wear on a day-to-day basis) and one set of jeans and sneakers. His strawberry-blonde hair, blue eyes, and open face gave of the impression of a nice, quiet, shy boy. This was not at all close to reality.

        Prior was not very athletic. He was smart -he would say brilliant- and he liked to act and read, but anything physically exerting was not on his to-do list. When he had heard that there was going to be Quidditch lessons, he had assumed that it would be a class: learning about the history, gameplay, and current events in the world of Quidditch. When he had gone to the grounds and found the other children lined up next to broomsticks he was rather displeased at the turn of events. Prior had many ambitions, but he had never wanted to fly. Some of his classmates were already glancing around to see who the new arrival was, however, so he, ever meticulous about how he appeared to those around him, decided that there was nothing for it. He lined up.

        The lesson was not exactly encouraging from there. He failed to get the broom to jump into his hand (a not exactly encouraging thing for a muggleborn who had never done anything but accidental magic), had trouble mounting the broom (which was surprisingly comfortable for something that had to be sat on in [hem] that way), and when he tried to fly he pitched and lurched (and got sweaty and red-faced), though he did manage a landing that was, if not smooth, not a crash either. Eventually he decided that he had gotten enough flying experience that he would want for a lifetime, and headed over to sit in the stands (hoping desperately that this was not mandatory all the way through.)

        "That was horrible," he moaned to himself as he sat down, putting his disgustingly sweaty face in his hands. Hearing a noise beside him he glanced up, still feeling a little dizzy- an aftereffect of being unnaturally high in the air. If whoever created this obscene world wanted us to fly they would have given us wings. "Sorry," he said, and his voice came out raspy. He cleared his throat and repeated himself. "Sorry, I didn't quite catch that."

  • Flying lessons!Temp. Coach Gaston Munro, Tue Apr 29 18:19
    Gaston Munro took a deep breath in the cool air on the Quidditch Pitch. He smiled over at his two sons, ten year old Frankie was sorting the brooms into best, good, and okay while six year old Wyatt... more
    • This is not my best day ever... — Prior Forbs (Draco), Wed May 14 22:41
      • BEST DAY EVER!John O'Neill (Lyra), Mon May 19 09:50
        When Jack had first picked up a broom at the age of five he had not been a natural flier. For some obscure reason the broom never seemed to respond to him without putting up a battle first and during ... more
    • More fumbling than flyingAlphonse Dubois V (Cetus), Sat May 3 06:35
      Coach Munro laughed as his kids started imitating him with their own broomsticks. Alphonse couldn’t hold back a grin at the sight, either. It was pretty funny to watch them, especially the smaller of ... more
      • I think you mean more fallingLinden Wrey, Sat May 3 18:26
        Flying. Now this was a lesson Linden could get into. Considering herself the only good flyer in the family (Pamela didn't know how and Christopher was all talk), the fresh Cetus had a certain... more
        • Hm, no, I'm definitely fumbling right now.Alphonse, Tue May 6 07:23
          He still felt a little maybe more than a little embarrassed (falling into her was hardly the best way to go about making a good first impression) but was also appreciative of how polite and... more
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