Oliver vs Genevieve
They were up fifty points when Viktor suddenly dived, though he'd stopped and abruptly changed direction. Oliver felt himself breathe a sigh of relief and watch the chaos unfolding before him. Montrose and Puddlemere colors swirled together in a tornado of blues, whites and golds. One of their Chasers sped down the pitch, came up to Montrose's goal and brought her right arm back, launching the ball and sending it right by Gabriel.
Oliver hit his heavily padded thigh and clutched both hands in controlled elation. The game had been neck and neck before this string of goals which boasted his spirit. How long would this go on? The two teams were so perfectly matched it could easily last four days. Oliver felt dread trickle through his at the thought: were his reserves good enough when the primary team would be forced into stopping for rest? Could the main team keep this level of focus for that long? Oliver should have worked with them - all of them - harder and for longer periods of time. He should have been there for the last week or so of practices.
They would cross that bridge when it came time; Genevieve had possession of the Quaffle and was zooming towards Puddlemere's goals.