Preston Stratford

November 21, 2011 9:23 PM

Beating it up by Preston Stratford

Preston was going through something he didn’t really understand and no books had been able to help him understand it. Yes, he knew about growing-up in theory, but the actual thing was just too confusing. He didn’t know what to think. For one, he had this new vision of things, especially of girls. They were just..just…he didn’t really know how to describe them, but they had evolved into pretty, complex things. They weren’t just other human beings that were not boys. It was a very weird transition, because he had started thinking about Sara more often and in another light. She smelled nice and was pretty and had awesome hair. Preston sighed as he was getting his Quidditch gear ready. He had just finished studying and he thought it would be nice to work on his beating skills during the free time he had. There was always room for improvement.

Now, among the changes he was experiencing, he was happy to announce to anyone that would hear him out that he had grown a few inches during the summer. He was taller and more muscular than last year, which was just what he needed to become a better Beater. However, there were other annoying changes like his voice, which sometimes was deeper and the next second it was like a bird squawking. He wasn’t really enjoying the physical changes his body was going through. It was horrible how one had to suffer through puberty and all the things attached to it. Preston had even asked her mother if there was a potion that would help with that, she just laughed and patted him. The redhead really didn’t see anything funny about his request.

The redhead Aladren left his room ready to burn some energy at the Quidditch Pitch. Despite everything, he had come to like the sport, and he owed it to his former Captain Daniel Nash. The Beater found the exercise relaxing and it helped to clear his head. Preston had come to insert some Quidditch time in his every day schedule, right after he ended with his school assignments. It had really helped with his studies, he wasn’t so stressed about it, and it helped him have a better academic performance. Plus, now-a-days it helped him stay focused on important things like books instead of thinking about the shade of Sara’s brown hair. This growing-up thing was definitely overrated. On the other side, Victor had told him that it got better with time and that the awkwardness would pass. He sure hoped it would be sooner rather than later.

Preston entered the Pitch and left his things on the bleachers while he geared up. His beater gloves were safely on his hands, and his helmet was in place. Now, he just needed to get the bludgers out of the shed. He was half-way there when he looked back and saw someone entering the pitch. He stopped and returned to where his stuff was, “Hi, I was about to practice my beating. Care to join me?”
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