"The Quafflepunchers, I s'pose," Cale answered. He was only a touch distracted. Being on the broom hadn't been so bad at first, but the longer he was aloft, the more nervous he became.
At least Potter wasn't the one flying. Cale had learned long ago that despite all of James' bragging about being the best, riding when he was the one flying was suicidal.
James scoffed. "Puddlemere all the way, mate. The Quafflepunchers won't last ten minutes! It's almost not worth it to have even got tickets."
Touching down at the Winters' camp, James waited for Roger to climb down before dropping to the ground. He hadn't planned on seeing the vendors first, but now that Madeleine had mentioned it, it didn't seem like a bad plan.
"Cally wouldn't know a good Quidditch team if it bit him," he decided.
Cale ground his teeth, reminded for the umpteenth time why he usually avoided his dorm mate during the summer.