1991, Magical America III
Diana was on her feet almost before Coach Scott was done speaking.
Immediately, one of the school brooms, a dusty Cloud Catcher, zoomed over and landed at her feet.
“Looks like we got our first volunteer already!” His voice boomed throughout the entire Quodpot Stadium, and one by one more of the first years stood up to join her, and every time a broom would land at their feet. A little over half had opted-in. “Since you’re so eager, give the rest of us a quick rundown of Quodpot.”
Diana smirked. “Eleven to a team. Four claws, to drive the Quod closer to the enemy pot, four wings, to take explosions and keep moving, two eyes, to speed up or slow down explosion time, and one head, to keep the prize guarded--its own pot.”
“Poetic. And exactly right. Looks like someone’s a fan of our great magical pastime.”
When that Thunderbird--Steve Trevor?--came to stand next to her, Diana raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you No-Maj-born? You sure you’re ready to play Quodpot hands-on?”
“Coach Scott really sold all that ‘More fun than hovering through rings’ stuff.” Steve smiled. “Your explanation may also have helped. A little.”
“Personally,” Etta Candy jerked a thumb to the stands, where half a dozen upperclassmen sat watching, “I think he’s trying to give the Quodpot Captains some good ideas on who’s team material.”
Diana imagined herself zooming through the air, Quod on the verge of exploding, deftly weaving through the opposition, scoring point after point. She smirked.
The burliest guy in the stands bellowed, “Two more en route for ya’, Coach!”
Barry Allen and John Stewart were having a good old time laughing and joking, but became stone walls of solemnity when they realized over 40 pairs of eyes were watching them make their way to the rest of the Flying class.
“I hear you two have already racked up more demerits than any other first-years in your houses,” Coach Scott said, with a hint of admiration in his voice. Diana noted the distinct undertone of groans and sighs from the Pukwudgies and Thunderbirds. “Since Diana here volunteered, she’ll be Captain One. Captain two’ll be... you.”
Shayera Hol effortlessly snatched the Quod he’d lobbed out of the air.
“Ooh,” Etta said. When she noticed Diana’s raised eyebrow, she shrugged, “Well, it was impressive.”
Five minutes later, Diana found herself surrounded by 10 of her fellow students, opposite Shayera and her hand-picked 9. Coach Scott had delegated Absolute Beginner flying lessons (consisting almost totally of No-Maj-borns) to the House Quodpot team members who’d shown up, and she tried hard not to laugh at Bruce Wayne and John Diggle falling off their brooms for the fifth time.
Coach Scott touched his wand to his neck and shouted, “Begin!”