hit me with your best shot ∙ [fiora]

She’d fancied herself a beater, but this was fine. Josie tossed the quaffle up, head bobbing in sync with the movement of the ball as it fell back into her open hand. As long as it was just practice, she’d take whichever position. It felt nice to be back on the pitch in general. After the incident in third year, she’d taken an unintentional hiatus from flying. Killian’s words had helped, forced her to pick apart and kick around her stupid feelings until they seemed less stupid, but she was still sort of stagnant. She thought picking up a broom would’ve been alien now, but it had been surprisingly easy, as familiar an action as putting on clothes every day.

Josie gripped the hilt of her Cleansweep with one hand and held onto the quaffle. Eyeing Fiora on the other side of the field, she pulled her arm back and launched it forward. Her heels met beneath her and she placed her now free hand above the other, holding on tightly as she zoomed forward to follow. Right now they were only doing drills, but just zipping around on her broom made her feel light and airy. She rose higher and steadied herself, then let go of the broom to sit up and spread her arms out. The wind whipped her face and made her eyes water. Josie laughed.

“Fi, this is amazing,” she told her friend, who'd caught the quaffle. “Thanks for inviting me.” When Fiora had first approached her, the declination danced on the edge of her lips. Fighting her fears for the sake of helping someone else – it was the Gryffindor thing to do. Sometimes she hated that damned attachment to nobility. But they were only going to be practicing and Josie thought it’d be a shit move to leave her hanging. Couldn’t really call herself a good mate after that. She didn’t want to let her friend down, so she’d acquiesced, almost glowering. Now she was happy she’d bitten her tongue. She had zero regrets.


@Fiora MacCrae

Fiora had invited Josie to the Quidditch Pitch because she'd wanted to hang out with the other girl more. They bonded over Quidditch, and Josie was just as athletic as Fiora was. She'd also noticed that despite all their talk about quidditch, she never made it to quidditch tryouts in their third year. She'd never broached the subject with the other girl, but she'd always been curious why Josie hadn't gone out for quidditch that year. They never really talked about really deep subjects, and kept it light and airy-- probably for the best, she mused.

Currently, Fiora was watching Josie Playfair have the time of her life as she flew through the air, the red-head's crimson painted lips quirked in a smile as Josie darted swiftly toward her, and launched the ball in her direction. The red-head, temporarily distracted, just barely caught the ball with the tips of her fingers. She doubled back in the the air, toward Josie, swinging her broom hard as she turned. She sidled up to Josie as they flew, and started talking as they practiced quick-passing to each other.

"You're really good in the air, Jo.. and your welcome" she complimented her as they flew around the pitch, "Why'd you never try out after third year?" she said a little gingerly. She wasn't sure what kind of Pandora's box she was about to open up. "You'd have been a starter by now," exclaimed the Scottish witch as she sped ahead a little, passing back the ball to her with an underhand.

Josie froze up and the quaffle hit her square in the stomach. In an instant she went from stock-still to animated, doubled over and clutching her sides. “Shite,” she breathed. The word was chased by a long list of different expletives - the sort that would make her grandmother clutch her pearls. Her broom lowered and the dip made her wince. She stretched a hand out to grab the hilt again and regain her composure. She didn’t know if it was the ball or Fi’s question that had knocked the wind out of her.

Rising to meet the other girl, she brushed off any concerns by tossing the quaffle back to her as if nothing had happened. She caught it and paused again. “'s nothing, Fi. Lost balance is all,” she said after a beat, throwing the ball back with a little more force than necessary. Josie’s gaze flicked up and she raised her hands apologetically. “Didn’t wanna join. I mean you saw what happened just now, yeah? Maybe I’m not as good in the air as you think.” There were a few of her yearmates who knew what had happened with Vincent. Ki and Barbie had found her the day of tryouts unstable and out of sorts. Josie grimaced at the memory - her, tamped against the stands, an absolute snot-nosed mess, and Barbara consoling her with a soothing hand on her back and a handkerchief while Ki went on a spiel about not bottling things in.

She eyed Fiora warily, hesitant to unscrew the cap.

“How 'bout we make this more interesting?” she questioned in search of a distraction more than anything. But throwing the ball back and forth had started to become mundane after the first couple of exchanges. “We can enchant 'em to fly around and go after 'em. That's more like a real game anyway.” Josie dived without waiting for approval and rummaged through the pockets of her sweatpants for her wand. Wracking her brain for the spell word Marcus used whenever he and Eddie faffed around at home, she tapped her wand against the ball and rushed something close out. She’d almost been knocked back again by the recoil as it zoomed away from her at lightning speed. That didn’t seem… entirely right. Oh well. It had done the trick. A corner of her mouth twitched. “Wicked.”

Josie hopped back on her broom at the ready for action. Who would catch the whizzing flash of scarlet first?