Don't Be A Sloth

With one final sweep of her wand, Renoir completed her work and looked up with satisfaction. The magical dome that now hovered above the Quidditch Pitch would protect her and her students from the thunderstorm raging overhead. In the back of her mind she could almost hear the laughs and eye rolls she would get from her teams if they had been there to see. Quidditch players fly in sunshine, rain, snow, hail, and whatever else mother nature threw their way. But this was a first year flying class, sadly; not a Quidditch team.

“So, Charles,” she said breezily, turning to the gamekeeper. “St. Valentine’s day is tomorrow.”

“It certainly is,” Charles Stone smiled cheerfully and platonically.

Renoir sighed. The handsome gamekeeper seemed perfectly content to be friends with everyone, oblivious to anything more than that. He really didn’t even know of Marguerite and Aitken’s common fondness for him. Perhaps he had a wife at home? Not entirely impossible…

“I’ve set the brooms in the middle of the pitch, so I’ll be back within the hour,” Charles said, snapping her out of her thoughts.

She nodded politely and sat on the broom chest, re-braided her hair, and awaited her students. After an eternity, they filed slowly onto the pitch. Each one of them was soaked to the bone, and obviously relieved to be under the invisible dome. Renoir stood and greeted them.

“Welcome back,” she began, her strict gaze falling upon them. “Today you will be learning and practicing the Sloth Grip Roll. Get a broom and take a few laps around the pitch to warm up.”

"Ugh, what a disgusting day," Arry exclaimed.

"Absolutely dreary," Gavin agreed as he walked with her to the pitch.

They'd stopped bothering to cover their heads about two seconds after they'd stepped outside. Arya decided quickly that Hogwarts really needed a covered walkway. The rain had been pouring down for an hour straight. Were they really expected to fly in this?

"Renoir will have taken care of the pitch," her Ravenclaw friend assured her, as if reading her mind. "Of course, if you want to play Quidditch, you can't be bothered by these things."

"I am only bothered because this is a flying class, not a Quidditch game," she scoffed, and he grinned.

At last, they arrived to find the Quidditch Pitch completely dry, to Arya's immense delight. Gavin patted her on the shoulder and headed over to the stands. He didn't have class, so he'd decided to come and watch. Arry grabbed a broom and spotted a familiar face.

"Awful weather, isn't it?" she asked her friend.

Arya flushed when Marigold brought up the Christmas Feast. She’d been trying her best to forget about that, but once you make friends with a ghost it’s hard to get rid of them. The Bloody Baron had been (literally) popping up on her daily. The old spirit clearly wasn’t used to kindness of any sort.

“Um…well…” she muttered, unsure of how much to tell her.

”Oh, sure, I’ve been having tea with the Bloody Baron every night, he’s an interesting chap”? She certainly couldn’t say that, Marigold would think she was crazy. Then she’d tell the rest of her friends, and they would think she was crazy too! No, Arry would just have to lie. Just when she’d been getting so much better at friendship.

“I’ve been having nightmares here and there, nothing too bad,” she fibbed, praying the Ravenclaw would buy it. “Shall we take a few turns around the pitch?”

Grateful for an excuse to change the subject, Arya hopped on her broom and kicked off.

Wilfreda walked into the dome covered quidditch pitch, she thanked Merlin's beard that the pitch was covered from the icy cold rain. Though if someday she wanted to make the team then she'd have to get used to playing in the shivering down to your bone cold rain.
Wilfreda looked around for an empty broom to carry out the Professors orders, an actually decent broom that you didn't have to force straight, but as she was quiet and mostly kept to herself nobody saved her a good broom. She sighed and went for Good ole Faithful, at least that's what she called the broom seeing as that's the one she always got. She sighed again, mounted the broom and kicked off.
She had a hard time lapping the field because Ole Faithful didn't want to listen to her today and she was the last to gather around the Prof.

Mirielle Ward got to the pitch rather early, not really bothered by the rain. So naturally she had to wait on everyone else to file in and hear complaint after complaint about the rain.Suck it up. She thought.
The professor announced what they were going to be learning today and suddenly everyone's complaints didn't bother her anymore because she always wanted to learn the Sloth grip roll. Ever since she saw her brother do it it was all she could think about learning in this class.
Mirielle grabbed a broom, one of the best you could get with this school, and flew as fast as she could around the field. To the point that it almost made her dizzy. She must've lapped this one blond at least ten times.
She gathered around the Prof like everyone else. Ready to learn.

Adelaine ran through the rain and arrived at the Pitch ahead of about five other people. She was one of the last there, which was not like her at all. But what could she do? It was the rain's fault. That, and the fact that she stayed a bit late in Potions to clean up her mess.

"Hello, Marigold," she said, spotting her friend. Arya had just kicked off, looking guilty. "What was that about?"

Grabbing a broom, Adele surveyed the others flying around the pitch before she mounted. Her housemate, Mirielle, wasn't too bad. I wonder why she wasn't at the Quidditch meeting a few weeks ago, she pondered. She'd probably be a good Chaser.

"Well, I suppose we should get going so we aren't the last to fly," she muttered to Marigold.

Hopping on her broom, she kicked off and sped around the pitch a few times.

Aubrey ran through the stormy rains straight to the pitch where the flying class was held, she walked slowly thought the mud when she finally reached the pitch and saw that she was late, however she could join the class, she stood beside a broom and said with a loud voice.

"Up!" and the broom suddenly climbed up straight to her hands where she caught it, Good start he thought, then she kicked the ground strongly and then started to move the broom, she took some round around the pitch and then she went back to the ground. Great Flying she thought. "I am going to be a quidditch player soon."

Mira walked somberly through the rain, her cloak held up over her head. She was dreading this class; flying simply wasn’t her forte. She wasn’t particularly bad at it, but she certainly wasn’t in the ranks of Deirdre and Arya. Really, it didn’t seem fair that Renoir was forcing them all to learn these Quidditch techniques. What if they didn’t want to be Quidditch players?

“Oh, hello Gavin,” she nodded toward the stands when she noticed the Ravenclaw.

The lord-to-be smiled at her and went back to watching the first years fly. She had an idea of who exactly he was watching.. Mira laughed to herself, wondering if he’d slipped Arya a card. After all, tomorrow was Valentine’s Day. And Mira still hadn’t gotten anything.

“Not that I need anything,” she said matter-of-factly.

A Slytherin boy looked at her as if she had absolutely lost her mind, and she shrugged with a grin. The lad rolled his eyes and walked away.

“Well, here goes nothing,” she sighed. Mira grabbed a broom and kicked off shakily, holding on for dear life.

Arya had zoomed gracefully around the pitch several times now, glad to be back in the sky at last. It was the only place she felt really free, after all; there were no words to describe the feeling of soaring through the air, the wind in your hair, the -

“WHOA!”

Someone pulled on her tunic and Arry nearly tumbled off her broom, falling into a Sloth Grip Roll just in time. Who was that??

“Bloody hell, what the devil,” Arya fumed, breath hard and swinging upright on her broom. It didn’t take her long to spot the culprit. “KOLBY!”

The serpent was already speeding away with an impish grin. What was he playing at? He could have sent her falling to her death! With an angry huff, Arya leant forward and shot after him.

“You just wait till I get my hands on you, you filthy snake,” she muttered through gritted teeth.

Renoir stood on the sidelines and watched the action. Second term and they still weren’t all experts? Watching Mira Catrain try to fly was like watching an old pack mule pull a heavy wagon through a river…I really shouldn’t think such things about my students, Marguerite reprimanded herself.

“Er, professor, might I draw your attention to something?” an anxious voice behind her said.

She turned and found Gavin coming up next to her, pointing hastily to the sky. Renoir followed his gaze and knew exactly what he was talking about. Kolby Parry was speeding towards Arya. Several things happened at once; Kolby nearly pulled her off her broom, and she dropped into a Sloth Grip Roll just in time. Renoir felt a moment of pride until she remembered it was Harcourt who taught the Gryffindor girl that technique, not her.

“That won’t end well,” she muttered, as Arya took off after the Slytherin. She shot red sparks into the air to signal a return to the ground before Arya could properly kill Kolby. “Gather round, children!”

Renoir grabbed her broom and walked to the center of the pitch. She kicked up and hovered ten feet in the air, and gestured for the students to do the same. Once they were all in position, she continued.

“The Sloth Grip Roll is a move very useful in Quidditch, and for your everyday travels,” she began wistfully. “In the game, it’s used to avoid close encounters with Bludgers.”

Marguerite paused and looked around. She would do things differently today.

“Arya Lannister, why don’t you demonstrate?” She waited for the girl to fly to her side. “Class, Arya here has already mastered this move. Once she shows you how, I want you all to spread out and try it yourselves.”

Arya was five feet from Kolby when Renoir called them down to the ground.

“Bloody hell,” she fumed with disappointment. So close!

It was probably just as well; she might get expelled for pushing a boy off his broom 50 feet in the air. Landing softly, Arya followed suit and gathered around the professor, ten feet up. She was only half-listening, daydreaming about tomorrow’s dance, when she heard her name. What did Renoir just say? Someone gave her a little push towards the front, so she flew slowly to the center of the pitch. Did Renoir really want her to teach her class? Was she just trying to humiliate her?

“Umm…okay, well,” she mumbled, a bit flustered. She heard a few snickers in the back, which pushed the nerves out and made her sit up a little straighter and talk a little louder. “A Sloth Grip Roll should only be done if you’re quite stable on your broom; if you’ve got weak arms you may want to sit this one out.”

To her surprise, a couple people actually did back up and sat on the ground. Feeling even more confident, Arry shot up a few more feet to give everyone a good look.

“You want to have a good hold with your ankles and hands,” she instructed, demonstrating. “Then you just…”

Actions spoke better than words in this situation, so she just showed them what to do instead. Making certain she was holding on, she let her body fall to the side and hung upside down from her broom. She noticed Gavin grinning at her from the stands, and she forgot all about Kolby's attempted murder.

“It’s exactly the same as your normal broom position, only you’re upside down,” she explained, swinging upright.

Wil was on of the ones to back away from Arya when she told them that if they had weak arms they'd better sit out. Of course, she still knew that she'd have to try and perform the sloth grip. It was an understatement to say that she was just scared. She was beyond terrified. Her arms were like cooked noodles and the broom was like one of her grandpapi's experiments.
Wil gripped her broom uneasily, still not thrilled at the idea of hanging upside down, and mounted it. Just mounting the old rickety broom made it swing a little. She gripped the broom as tightly as she could with her hands and locked her legs together so her ankles would be tight also and swung to the right, she decided to swing the way the broom naturally swung as to have less of a chance to be thrown off. The broom had other ideas and plopped her right down on the ground.
"Why can't you just work for me for just one lesson, just one?" Wil kicked the broom in frustration and it went flying towards a ravenclaw girl.Oh no, please don't hit her. Don't let her be mad. What have I done.

Mirielle was utterly appalled when the professor asked a student to demonstrate the flying move. The prof had never done that before. It was probably because of Kolby. He just had to go after Arya. Again. Swear, it almost, sometimes looks like he fancies her. Mirielle thought enviously. She had always wanted to demonstrate something to the class.
Mirielle grabbed her broom and right as she was about to mount it and begin, what she once thought was an awesome lesson, an old broom came flying towards her. She reached out her hand and grabbed it firmly. Man, does this thing like to wiggle. You'd think it was hexed. Mirielle looked at who's broom it was and she recognized the blonde girl she had lapped a few times while flying. Hmm, I wonder if I can Sloth grip with this old thing. So she put her broom on the ground and mounted the rickety old broom. She wanted to prove that she was just as good as Arya on a good broom that she was on an ancient broom. Mirielle tightened her grip on the broom with her ankles and her hands and swung with the broom to the right.
Mirielle smiled to herself when she saw the world go topsy turvy and she was still on the blondes broom. I knew I was just as good as the quidditch player.
Mirielle picked up her good broom in one hand and the old one in the other and raced towards the blonde girl.

Wil watched the girl grasped the broom tightly just a mere inches from face. Wil's mouth immediately dropped. She was impressed and even more glad that it didn't hit the girl. Then Wil saw something rather odd. The ravenclaw girl set down her broom and mounted Wil's. The girl quickly did the sloth grip in a matter of seconds. Wil's astonishment would never end. How did she do that on ole faithful?I might not be the best at flying, okay understatement, but even, at least I think, the most experienced flyers could do any extravagant move on that silly old broom. She must be a pureblood, she must've grown up around flying. Oh no, SHE is coming over here right now. What do I do?In the end, Wil's fight instinct won over. She stood put even if she was cowering where she stood. The girl had finally reached her.
I'm sorry so sorry about the broom thing. I was practising the move when it, once again, gathered a mind of it's own. It sort of wanted to just fly I guess. I saw that you pulled off the move brilliantly with it. You have a talent; maybe you'll be excepted onto the team. I'd put you on it, even if we are rivals. Wil rushed her words out, nervously. She hoped that the girl actually could follow and understand everything she said so she wouldn't get pummeled.

Mirielle smiled at the blondes words pouring out of her mouth at a ridiculously fast rate. Maybe she thinks I'm mad, but she's sweet to think that I belong on the quidditch team.
"Blondie, I'm not here to beat you up. I simply wanted to ask you if you'd be okay with me getting this broom from now on. What I mean to say is that we trade brooms right before we get all hands on with the lesson. I'm Mirielle by the way. Parents call me Elle and so do my muggle friends at home. I figure we should stop calling each other by hair color if we are going to become acquainted. Also, I know that the teacher, Ash, and possibly Arya are supposed to help with the move but I was wondering if I could be of any assistance?" I handed the blonde the good broom and smiled at her to let her know that I meant no harm.

Mira was terrified. Why were they being forced to do this? What if she fell and broke her head? Shouldn’t there be a law against making a child do such a dangerous stunt against their will? Although, it was the Middle Ages, after all. Free will wasn’t much abided by.

“Need some help, Mira?”

She turned to see Gavin smiling cheerily at her. It appeared that Renoir was recruiting him and Asher to help the first years out. Only fitting, as they were captains of their teams. Of course, the Gryffindor captain was already helping Marigold.

“Peyton told me to give you the best assistance I can,” Gavin laughed. “He apologizes for not following up on the promise of giving you lessons.”

“Oh, really?” Mira chuckled, trying to hide her blush. “Well then, you better make me an expert, Lord Gavin.”

The Ravenclaw captain grinned and coached her through the Sloth Grip Roll. After a few tries, Mira was nearly there. She could hang by just her feet, or just her hands, but not both.

Wil eyed Elle. Sure she was being nice but she's a slytherin. I would be a fool if I didn't at least question her. Wil felt guilty about thinking that. After all, not all Slytherins were snakes.
"Sorry, I don't want you to get into trouble by teaching me but I will take you up on the broom exchange idea." Wil eyed the nice broom. "My names Wilfreda but you can call me Wil for short. Everyone does." She gestured to hand her a broom so she could try the grip again, not that she really wanted to.

Adelaine would have to find Arya after class and congratulate her. She knew the Gryffindor could do the Sloth Grip Roll (she had heard it announced in the Quidditch match), but she had never actually seen it. Although she was proud of her friend, it did light a fire in her. Adele was quite competitive on a broom; it was probably one of the only traits her parents could be proud of.

“Okay, let’s do this,” she muttered under her breath, kicking up a couple feet higher. “Can’t be too hard…”

Watching the activity around her, she noticed Gavin, Asher, and the Hufflepuff captain Finnius helping out. It was a pity Seamus wasn’t there. Taking a deep breath, Adele decided the best thing to do would be to just go for it. So she did what she saw Arya do, and let her body fall to the side. It did not work for her; she was now only holding on by her feet, so she was literally hanging upside down fifteen feet in the air.

“Not quite right,” she heard a new voice below.  Symon Fendrel kicked off on his broom and hovered next to her.

“What are you doing here?” Adelaine questioned as he took her hands and pulled her upright.

“Renoir called on us captains to help,” he responded, with a rare smile. “You need to work on your grip."

Personally Elle thought that the Hufflepuff was being rude but if that's what the blondie wanted. Elle handed over the good broom and left the rude little blondie alone. She went to practice some more on her own, not that she needed to.
"So, the Hufflepuff blew you off."Ugh Tristen again. Why can't he just leave me be?
"Tristen go away." He smiled at her.
"But where else would I get my kicks from."She couldn't rid herself of him."You could try flying away from me but you know that won't work. I'm just as good as you."
"How? You are muggleborn. You didn't grow up flying." He grinned at her in an evil manner.
"Been practicing. We could race if you don't believe me OR we could try the sloth grip and race OR you could teach me how to perform it." He wiggled his eyebrows. She rolled her eyes.
"Your on. First person to perform the grip ten times perfectly and do twenty laps wins."
"We can't get that all done by the class ends." She smiled.
"You can't." She hopped on her broom and took off. She only hoped that the old broom could go the speed her old broom could and that she wouldn't get into trouble. Racing was forbidden.

Wil felt really guilty about the way she handled the Elle situation. I was quite rude to her. But I really didn't want her getting into trouble. She knew that unless you were Gavin, Charles, Renoir, Asher, or possibly (for today) Arya that you weren't supposed to teach the other students, no matter how great you are and Elle was really good on a broom. She saw Charles reenter the pitch. Maybe he can lessen the guilt and teach me. She walked across the pitch and right as she was about to reach him she was knocked on her bum. She looked at who it was and saw that it was Elle. I guess I really did hurt her feelings.
"Watch out!" Someone yelled and then another person zoomed pass her. She must be racing him. At this rate I will never reach Charles. Just then a hand appeared in front of her.
"They could get into a lot of trouble if Renoir sees them. Personally I like the fact that they are practicing their speed and their grip on the roll." Wil looked up to see Charles. She took  his hand.
"Thank you. I was just coming over to you."
"I noticed." He smiled at her and she almost melted. He was so handsome, every girl noticed, but way out of her league.
"I was just wondering if you could help me."
"Sure, I also noticed you managed to get a good broom today. You usually get that old crappy one." She shook her head.
"No, I still got Ole Faithful but Elle wanted to trade. She's the girl racing the boy." Her guilt returned.
"And she is still kicking his butt. I think she should be put on the Slytherin team as a chaser. She'd kick some serious behind. Might even be better than Arya. Anyway, your sloth grip let's see it." She mounted the newer broom and tried the move again but fell off. He laughed. Then began to point out what she was doing wrong, and how she could fix it. By the end of the class she almost had it.