Cameron watched with wide eyes and his mouth agape as Selhim went flying through the hoop along with the quaffle. There were two possibilities: (1) he was just that good, or (2) the Moroccan keeper was just that bad. He wasn't inclined towards the latter, and hoped it would fare well for Britain later in the month.
He smiled as Bonaccord as she, seemingly reading his mind, flew straight for the quaffle. The snitch had been sighted, and it was likely they only had a few minutes more to score the most points possible. If they were quick enough (and the keeper continued sucking enough) they might score enough to avoid losing via snitch anyways.
"You've got this!" he shouted, unaware of the drama going on with the beaters in the background. Thank Merlin their beaters were competent. (Or as competent as he would allow himself to consider kneecapped Selwyn.)
He smiled as Bonaccord as she, seemingly reading his mind, flew straight for the quaffle. The snitch had been sighted, and it was likely they only had a few minutes more to score the most points possible. If they were quick enough (and the keeper continued sucking enough) they might score enough to avoid losing via snitch anyways.
"You've got this!" he shouted, unaware of the drama going on with the beaters in the background. Thank Merlin their beaters were competent. (Or as competent as he would allow himself to consider kneecapped Selwyn.)
