InsaneJournal

Who: Scorpius Malfoy and Alicia Spinnet [and probably Cassius if wanted]
When: Wednesday afternoon
Where: Quidditch Pitch
What: Practice
Rating: TBD, mostly low
Status: In progress

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After everything, Scorpius felt he needed a distraction. He had been involved in a hunt once or twice. And he had actually utilized a rifle type weapon back when the magic was temporarily gone. But that felt different. Those were usually against monsters. Things that sometimes looked as evil as they were, not human. But that fight seemed.. well, slightly different. He was aware the man had caused great harm to others, with the wounded and near deaths. And some part of him knew it would probably end that way. It was just that the actual shot when it happened, he was taken by surprise. By now, though, by now he had gotten past that. It was just something that happens sometimes. He noticed that there had been a few who didn't end up using the 'second chance' to be better. He would. He knew his father would too, and did when he had been to Kansas before.

So now, he wanted something fun to do. Something active, something to give him a workout. And it had to be a thing he liked. And this? Ohh, he so did. He had taken his broom to the empty, secluded field he had picked to use his bauble wish last month concerning having everything needed to play quidditch. It was huge. Closely resembled how it looked back home. He saw the triple rings for quaffle scores, total of six, three to the opposite sides each. And several other things. He had been working previously to cast charms on it that'd prevent it being seen by Muggles (unless of course they wore special glasses to view it). No way he'd want any passing airplane to see that. Or worse, for some accidental photo from those.. what is it, saddle-ites? For that to be on the news and expose the truth that, oh yes, Hogwarts magic was real. No, best to be hidden. But most magic users might see it.

He sighed pleasantly as he felt alone to himself for the moment. He opened the chest and picked up the small box which held the golden snitch. He saw the quaffle balls, beater clubs, and of course the couple bludgers which were wisely strapped down into the box. He smiled lightly as he held the snitch. "Time for another round, old friend," he said with a smirk as he paused to take a breath, opened the box and freeing it. The shiny object flew, wings batting rapidly as it took off to soar high, upward above the Pitch. He waited about five minutes as he usually did. Then he mounted the broom and kicked off, himself soaring into the sky. He loved this. Ohh, how he loved this. Flying was often one of his favorite activities. It was like being free of everything, just himself and the wind. It had usually helped clear his mind during troubled days. So he continued to fly, leaning forward to maximize the speed even more, like a bullet, the wind in his blond hair, his green cloak flapping like a cape. He'd done a few fun tricks once in a while too. Going up, then nose diving only to pull back up, soaring high yet again, twice did a corkscrew, upside down and then right side up, etc.

Now came the time for why he was here. Practicing his skill. He flew around the upper areas of the large Pitch circle. Continually moving, eyes open and alert. Ever watchful for that elusive birdie. All was quiet. It was moments like this that he'd shut everything out. Everything in his life and about him was put aside, all that mattered was the game. No distractions. Only the snitch had his focus and little else. If he had an opponent, he wouldn't pay them any mind except the fact that he not let them get the prize first. Unlike how it was with his father, Scor's emotions or rivalries played little part in the game. It had been a half hour before he heard a small yet distinct wings sound like a hummingbird, til then he saw it a medium distance away. No time was wasted as he darted forth immediately. He picked up speed as he continued his trajectory, mind and body united in singular purpose. But it wasn't easy. Oh no. The object flitted sideways and it missed his grasp by mere inches and flew past him in the rear. Rather than stop and steer around like a novice, he just kept flying and turned his broom back as it flew, til he was on the track again. He had kept going, each time getting closer, and yet again missing it. Except it was often closer each time, if only he judged the distance a bit more rightly. Trying again.

It was possibly an hour longer now - or was that three hours, he could not tell - til he had flown past it, holding one arm out as it felt now in the smallest of centimeters, he stopped and felt the bird fly into his palm. Instinct immediately took course as his fingers swiftly closed upon the snitch, then holding his fist triumphantly in the air. He couldn't help but smile at that victory. Unfortunate that it wasn't worth points right now, but the feeling of achievement was more than enough at this point. He wasn't aware if anyone else was present below. But now, he felt content that he had made a goal for this practice run.. and finished it successfully. It was times like this when he wished his family were here to see it.