I wasn't even sure why I actually WAS here.
I didnt have my own broomstick and I basically didnt know how to play the game. Some of the boys had tried to teach me last spring when my parents went to Belgium and I stayed at Hogwarts for the Holidays, but I'd preferred showing off and taking a dip in the Lake, alot of good it did me. Scotland in summer, are you kidding me?
But old Madam Hooch had said I had 'a nack on a broomstick' when I was a first year, and what was there to lose really?
I mounted the old school stick I was given, "Nimbus 2000' on the handle, the same McGonagall had given Harry Potter back in the 90s, before the war. Everyone knew that story.
I was given a club and they said "Beater" and released a bludger. I was supposed to hit it , I knew that much, so I gave it a mighty swing, remembering when Grandad taught me golf. It went flying up, farther than any of that extremely blonde boys budgers had. It came down, down, and I knew where it would land before I had even hit it, of course with my luck.
Right onto the head of the flying instructor.
I just sort of stood there gaping, like a fish, until she said calmly, almost briskly: "Lets all play a quick little game with just the quaffle. Everyone's a chaser." And without looking at me or anything, she swept into the air.
I think perhaps it went better this time, I managed to score at least 4 goal things.
Come on, there WERE no goalies or whatever they are called, but thats beside the point. Beaters.