The Family that Chooses You

Chapter 37: Purity of Cruelty

Harry dove.

It was at an angle, he did not feel confident in a dive straight down quite yet, but it was still a sharp dive.  He flattened himself against the broomstick, feeling the wind pull at his robes and pads, whipping through his hair.  The ground came up alarmingly fast.  The long flags that draped down the front of the stands in the pitch slipped past him, the colors nearly blending together at that speed.

He pulled up on the stick, and the angle flattened, rising easily from the dive without a kick or shudder.  With both hands together on the stick he was able to make small course corrections, making sharp turns in flight.  He pulled hard with his right hand while pushing with his left.  He neatly turned to the right, the front of his broomstick angled directly where he wanted to go.

Twisting on both hands in the same direction had the broom roll.  For a brief moment he felt he would fall off but clenching his thighs on the broom helped him maintain his seat before he twisted back the other way, straightening up.  He repeated the gesture the other direction, rolling to the side and holding it there for a few long seconds before rolling upright.

"Thattaboy!" Oliver crowed.  He had been following Harry at a distance and watching proudly as he executed the exercises.  The notes he had taken at the Summer Quidditch Camp had been invaluable.  Most thought he was crazy for attending the seminars and demonstrations for all the positions.  They called him a fanatic.

They were not wrong of course.  He still willingly went to them all to take as many notes as he could to give to his team.

Harry flew up to him, windswept and wide smiled.  "You're right!  Holding the middle of the stick with one hand in front of the other makes moving a lot easier.  The broom is more responsive that way, I don't feel like I have to pull or push as hard."

"Grabbing the top is good for those minute changes and gives you enough control with one hand if you need the other for catching.  For the longer courses the middle path is the way to go."  Oliver showed what he was saying as he said it, flying slowly around Harry.  "Plus it doesn't tire you out as much.  Gives your upper body more flexibility."

"I'm so jealous you got to go to a camp," Harry said.  "I'd love to go."

Oliver smiled sadly.  "Well, maybe one day you can.  Until then I'll pass along my knowledge with a much lighter fee."

"Do you take Snitch gold?"

"Any day," Oliver said and high-fived Harry.  "Now do another quick circuit and try to double the exercises this time."  He watched fondly as Harry sped off.

It was a beautiful day for practice.  The sun was shining, conditions clear, nice and cool.  The first practice after a summer break was always the roughest but the team had bounced back easily.

Oliver had idly thought about waking everyone up early but the night prior Alicia had warned him against that.  Valuing his personal safety, he did in fact wait until a few hours after dawn to wake the team and start practice.  He could not complain at all.  His notes from the camp were well received across the board and everyone was happy to fly together and to play.

He was incredibly thankful that the team had remained intact from last year.  Trials were always stressful things and he knew his team was a strong one and could only get better.  There was no reason to replace anyone.

A loud whistle pierced the air and everyone turned.  Fred waved his arms and pointed at the crowd of students approaching the pitch.

Oliver frowned, feeling his good will dissolving.  Even far away he recognized the brutish form in the front.  "This won't be good," he sighed to himself.  He waved an arm around and pointed down, gather and descend.  The team did as directed, flying to each other and down, landing neatly.