The Spring Term
The new term at Hogwarts arrived with crisp morning air and the first hints of spring creeping into the castle grounds. The lingering frost still clung to the grass, but the days were getting longer, and the sunlight that streamed through the Great Hall windows held the faintest promise of warmth.
For Vi, the return to classes wasn’t nearly as exciting as one very important thing—flying.
She was practically vibrating with anticipation as they sat at breakfast, stuffing toast into her mouth between hurried words. “So—m’thinkin’—” she swallowed, “—I wanna go flying today.”
Caitlyn, perfectly composed as she buttered her toast, raised an eyebrow. “Did you forget about your dramatic crash before Christmas?”
Vi waved that off. “Pfft, barely even hurt.”
“You had a concussion.”
“Barely even hurt. Plus, I wanna tryout for Quidditch next year so I gotta practice.”
Caitlyn rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. “Fine. But at least try to be careful this time.”
Vi grinned. “No promises.”
Later that afternoon, Vi stood in the middle of the Quidditch pitch, grinning up at the sky like a kid in a candy shop. The pitch, usually filled with roaring crowds, was quiet now, just her, Caitlyn, and the cool breeze ruffling their scarves.
Vi straddled the school broom she had signed out, kicked off from the ground, and let out a loud, whooping laugh as she soared into the air.
“Merlin, I missed this!” she called down, looping effortlessly around one of the towering goalposts.
Caitlyn stood on the ground, arms crossed, watching with an amused shake of her head. “You look ridiculous.”
“I look awesome!” Vi corrected, spinning into a reckless dive before pulling up just in time.
Caitlyn sighed. “Well, if you’re really serious about trying out next year, you need to learn the rules properly.”
Vi landed with a thud, brushing stray strands of magenta hair from her face. “Yeah, yeah, I get it. You my teacher now, Kiramman?”
Caitlyn smirked. “I’d rather not have to watch you embarrass yourself, and Gryffindor for that matter, in front of the entire school. Consider this preventative education.”
Vi grinned. “Alright then, teach. Lay it on me.”
For the next hour, Caitlyn lectured while Vi half-listened, swinging her broom over her shoulder.
“There are seven players on a team—three Chasers, two Beaters, a Keeper, and a Seeker. The Chasers score goals with the Quaffle, the Keeper defends the hoops, the Seeker catches the Snitch, and the Beaters—Vi, are you even paying attention?”
Vi, who had been pretending to listen while juggling an imaginary Bludger, grinned. “Yeah, yeah. Hit stuff, score points, don’t die. Got it.”
Caitlyn pinched the bridge of her nose. “You’re impossible.”
Vi nudged her playfully. “And yet, here you are, choosing to spend time with me.”
Caitlyn huffed but didn’t deny it. “At this rate, I should just make you read Quidditch Through the Ages.”
Vi gasped in mock horror. “That’s cruel and unusual punishment.”
Caitlyn smirked. “Then pay attention.”
Vi laughed, twirling her broom in her hands. “Alright, alright. I’ll be the best damn Beater Hogwarts has ever seen. Just you watch.”
Caitlyn shook her head, but her lips twitched in amusement. “You’re going to be a nightmare, aren’t you?”
Vi slung an arm around her shoulders, grinning. “Oh, absolutely.”