"You'll come watch me fly, of course?" Polly had asked Hesper brightly at breakfast, though it was not so much a question as it was a... reminder of obligation, but in a way that sounds less miserable.

As a third year, the witch had tried to try out for her house quidditch team, only to find her attempts at subterfuge foiled (and earned herself some detentions in the process). Quidditch club likewise eluded the Slytherin, who had had to settle for flying club. Today, it felt to the sixth year rather as though her moment had arrived at last; while Hippolyta had been passed over for beater (boo!) in this unconventional club "meeting", she at least get the experience of dodging the modified bludgers.

Since kickoff, the Slytherin had done well indeed at just that, and thus far, her robes unmarred by the chaulky powder that had been marking the flyers around her.