Amelia had noticed, as had just about at the Opening Feast, that many of the students were less than pleased by the cancellation of Quidditch for the year. She had also noticed that only Aladren had managed to pull in at least seven names on their team sign-up sheets. While it wasn’t as critical as in other years, given the lack of games, even practices would prove more difficult if there weren’t full teams involved and she would have liked to see at least seven names for each house, for continuity into next year if nothing else.
Also, she was hoping to field at least one exhibition game this year, and those players would need to have people to practice with. She’d thought of a couple of ways to do that, and eventually decided on volunteer teams. As such, she had drafted up an additional Quidditch sign-up sheet, separate from the regular house sign-ups, and she’d figure out how to arrange the teams based on how many people signed up.
To: Quidditch Captains, Assistant Captains, and Players From: Coach Pierce Re: Quidditch
I understand that many of you are upset by the cancellation of Quidditch Games this year, especially those of you who are graduating. It is important that regular House practices continue during the year despite the lack of Quidditch Cup so we can pick up games again smoothly next year. The decision to cancel the Cup this year did not come easily and will not be reversed.
However, if there is sufficient support and interest, I may be able to organize an exhibition game or two to keep up the competitive edge. With the challenges going on, participation is entirely voluntary. Players should sign-up below if they would be willing to play in such a match. Teams will likely be interHouse. Those who would rather focus on the challenges should still be allowed to join in House practices to train for next year.
Thank you, and I apologize again that Quidditch cannot be played in full this year.
The initial surprise of hearing there would be no Quidditch this year had worn off, as had most of the weird fit of irritability Arnold had found himself in after that. He still wasn’t thrilled with the situation, still felt strangely out of place, but there was nothing he could do about it and so he had decided to stop thinking about it, at least as far as he could. Between his terrifying load of Advanced classes and homework, relationship with Fae, regular nerve-wracking study sessions with Arthur, and still having Quidditch practices to think about even if there were no games, he thought he had plenty of other things on his mind anyway, so dwelling on one which he couldn’t attack at all wasn’t a smart idea. He was still keeping his head above the water so far for now, but he really did suspect that as things went along, he was going to have less and less time to even breathe, much less to think about what he was doing at any given moment.
He was still thinking a little now, though, enough at least to know when he hadn’t thought something. Or that something would happen. He’d expected Coach Pierce to largely bow out of the year after the captains all wrote up their schedules, so he was surprised to see an announcement from her. Though maybe he shouldn’t have been. Arnold had been quietly disappointed and very surprised by things, but from what he had heard, a lot of people seemed to have taken it much harder than he ever had. It must not have been as bad as some of what he’d heard, though, or the staff probably would have cancelled next year’s games as well just to make a point. That was what he thought would have happened at home.
He looked at the announcement for a moment, feeling, for almost the first time ever where Quidditch was concerned, a little hesitant to do something. There were so many things to do anyway, adding another was going to be tough. That was why they’d cancelled the games anyway. One game, though, wouldn’t be so bad, not unless maybe someone decided he should play Beater on the mixed team, and he didn’t think they would do that. His record as a Seeker was 9-1, and while the little voice in the back of his head referred to that as only just ‘good enough,’ he knew that objectively, compared to other Seekers’ records, it was a bit better than it had seemed to him. He was a good Seeker. That was what he did, that was who he was. It was his job to be the Seeker.
That made his mind up for him. He signed himself up - Arnold Carey, 6th year Aladren Seeker - and then went to breakfast, wondering vaguely if Arthur would try to kill him when he inevitably also saw the notice and then noticed Arnold’s name on it right after.
Anthony was as surprised as his oldest brother had been to see a second Quidditch sign up list go up on the bulletin board, one which seemed to suggest there might be a game after all, but once he did see it, it didn’t surprise him at all that Arnold had signed up on it. Before Sonora, from what Anthony could remember about that, Arnold had been mostly known for how many times he could take fairly serious injuries while trying to pull off stunts on a broom rather than for anything specifically about Quidditch, but for the past five years, Quidditch had been Arnold’s thing. He played it up even more than Arthur did looking at people over his reading glasses and always, no matter what the situation, having a book on his person. Or was possibly really that obsessed. Anthony had never really decided which he thought it was, and didn’t think it really mattered much.
He had, with talk about challenges dominating talk about Quidditch this year, forgotten to sign up as a reserve again for the Quidditch team proper, so Anthony guessed this might be a good chance for him, too, to stay in things. He would never admit it to anyone, he was sure, not even under pain, but he sometimes liked to think about the possibility that he could maybe take Arnold’s spot on the team once his brothers both left the school, taking half the team with them. He knew it was probably an idle dream anyway, but it would be even more idle if he wasn’t seen to be involved now, even as a second year. Everyone in the family had had some kind of advice, before he came last year, about how impressions he made as a first year could shape the whole course of his schooling career, and he had no reason to doubt them after the stuff he’d heard about Arnold and Arthur’s first year. So he signed himself up for the exhibition, thinking with a mixture of nervousness and excitement that he might actually get to play some this year after all, if demand wasn’t overwhelming, instead of just being on the sidelines. He hadn’t been at all prepared for that this year, but if it happened, he guessed all he’d be able to do was do his and hope for the best.