Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
v. Mittens
HAVING TO PRACTICE QUDDITCH IN A BAD MOOD WAS ONE THING, having practice with Draco constantly sending shady looks to you was another. Eulalia was on her broom, zipping through the school's Quidditch pitch with a practiced ease. They were gearing up for the next match, and though she would never admit it, she felt off her game. Her broom seemed to buck and jolt beneath her as if she were a novice again. Every maneuver felt wrong, every turn sluggish. It was as if her body and broom were out of sync.
She tried to shake off the feeling, pushing herself harder, determined to get back into the rhythm. As she streaked across the pitch, the wind whipping through her hair, she couldn't help but notice how everything felt just a bit out of place. Her grip on the broom was too tight, her movements too stiff. And yet again, they were practicing the same drill.
Why? Because, for the life of her, she could not score the Quaffle into the bloody goal. It was driving her mad. She'd been shouted at by their team captain so many times, she'd lost count. Eulalia loved Quidditch, she really did, but she was fed up with the constant nagging.
Every time she missed or fell, Blaise would slap his forehead with a groan, shaking his head in frustration. Theodore would chuckle quietly, and Mattheo barely seemed to notice. Pansy, perched in the stands, watched with a look of barely concealed embarrassment. Eulalia was one of the best players, but at the moment, she was playing like a total novice.
Draco, though, kept his mouth shut. The most arrogant git on the team would usually be the first to throw in his two Knuts, but today he was silent. He was clearly annoyed, but unlike Eulalia, he thrived on his anger. She, on the other hand, was more focused on making a mess of things than on improving her aim.
Again, they were at it. Eulalia gripped the Quaffle tightly and sped toward the goal, determined to make the shot. She threw with all her might, but, as usual, she missed by a hair. The Quaffle smacked against the side of the goal, and something inside her snapped. She yanked her broom down and flung it to the ground in frustration as her teammates gathered around her.
"Devereux!" the team captain barked, but Eulalia wasn't in the mood to listen. The others closed in, their concern mixed with visible irritation.
"I can't do it!" she snapped, her voice seething with annoyance. "I've tried, but I just can't get the bloody Quaffle through the goal! What more do you want from me?" She took a step closer to the captain, clearly furious. Blaise, though he tried to maintain composure, couldn't quite hide his smirk. The captain raised his hands defensively.
