It had not taken him much convincing for Papa to lend his broom to Desmond for this year, and now he carried it proudly onto the pitch. He lapped up every word that Mr. Fletcher was saying, the team captain seemed to take his role very seriously. It made the boy even more enthusiastic about his chances, he didn't know the Fletcher family but that lack of connections wouldn't bother a real quidditch captain.

Not one who wanted to win a house cup tournament as much as Desmond did, and be on the team that did it.

Dreams of making the winning goal and flying his own victory lap vanished as soon as he was in the air. It was too easy not to think of anything else on a broom, Des loved the feeling of all his cares whipping away in the breeze, seeing the world move by so fast underneath him. There wasn't much time for sightseeing, he even forgot to look for Gia in the stands where she'd promised to watch from. Des was too busy dodging the bludgers, one of the stinkbombs passed close enough to his face to foul up his nose for the rest of tryouts, nevermind the ones that hit.

By the end of it, the boy was so happy to have gotten a real chance to fly on the school pitch that he didn't care if he smelled bad. He was just sure he had made an impression.

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