She’s Got My Number | G.W. · Y/n story by @charlotte61357

The Quidditch pitch roared with energy, a sea of crimson and gold under the overcast Scottish sky. Dozens of hopefuls stretched on the grass, their movements fluid and practiced, while others practiced complex flips and spells that sent sparks of colored light into the air.

Amara

bouncing on the balls of her feet See? I told you it would be a good turnout! Look at the talent!

A girl nearby executed a perfect, twisting backflip, her wand tracing a shimmering arc of silver stars that hung in the air for a moment before fading. The air crackled with competitive tension and the scent of damp grass and broom polish.

Amara

Okay, don't just stand there. Let's warm up. She begins doing high knees, her ponytail swishing. Come on, Y/n! Loosen up!

The captain, a tall seventh-year with a severe blonde bun and a clipboard charmed to float beside her, blew a sharp whistle. Her voice cut through the chatter.

Captain

Alright, prospects! Form three lines! We'll start with basic tumbling to assess your physical form. No wands for the first round. Let's see what you've got without magical assistance.

Amara

grabbing Y/n's arm and pulling her toward a line This is it! Just copy what the person in front of you does. You'll be fine.

The line begins to move, a conveyor belt of cartwheels, round-offs, and handsprings. Each movement is met with a critical nod or a quick note on the floating clipboard from the captain. The pressure is a physical weight in the humid air.