Post by dianahawthorne on Jun 21, 2009 1:24:10 GMT -5
Damn That Woman
***
Inspired by a plotbunny from Ainora at FictionAlley: McGonagall watches the finals of the 1953 European Quidditch Championships. Or rather, she would if she could take her eyes off the Holyhead Harpies' new Beater, Rolanda Hooch.
Dedicated to Kelly Chambliss.
***
Damn that woman. She had been waiting for these Championships for the entire year and now she couldn’t pay attention. She didn’t like the Holyhead Harpies – despised them, in fact – but she couldn’t take her eyes off their new Beater.
Her Omnioculars followed the Beater’s every move, watching the graceful movements of the Quidditch player. The strong yet slender lines of her body, muscles flexing as her bat connected with the Bludger, were like poetry in motion. Her short grey hair ruffled by the wind, her yellow eyes flashing, her form-fitting uniform outlining a boyish figure.
It was lucky Minerva had come alone, lucky she did not have to explain her peculiar behaviour. Minerva McGonagall, daughter of the former Portree Seeker, watching the Beater for the Pride of Portree? Scandal!
But she couldn’t help herself, and kept her eyes glued to the woman throughout the match.
The Holyhead Harpies defeated the Pride of Portree, and even though her team had lost, she could not help but feel a thrill of excitement when the new Beater raised her arms in her joy.
And when the Beater took a victory lap around the field, she caught Minerva’s eye... and smiled.
***
Inspired by a plotbunny from Ainora at FictionAlley: McGonagall watches the finals of the 1953 European Quidditch Championships. Or rather, she would if she could take her eyes off the Holyhead Harpies' new Beater, Rolanda Hooch.
Dedicated to Kelly Chambliss.
***
Damn that woman. She had been waiting for these Championships for the entire year and now she couldn’t pay attention. She didn’t like the Holyhead Harpies – despised them, in fact – but she couldn’t take her eyes off their new Beater.
Her Omnioculars followed the Beater’s every move, watching the graceful movements of the Quidditch player. The strong yet slender lines of her body, muscles flexing as her bat connected with the Bludger, were like poetry in motion. Her short grey hair ruffled by the wind, her yellow eyes flashing, her form-fitting uniform outlining a boyish figure.
It was lucky Minerva had come alone, lucky she did not have to explain her peculiar behaviour. Minerva McGonagall, daughter of the former Portree Seeker, watching the Beater for the Pride of Portree? Scandal!
But she couldn’t help herself, and kept her eyes glued to the woman throughout the match.
The Holyhead Harpies defeated the Pride of Portree, and even though her team had lost, she could not help but feel a thrill of excitement when the new Beater raised her arms in her joy.
And when the Beater took a victory lap around the field, she caught Minerva’s eye... and smiled.
