Closed Ain't That a Kick in the Head

[Cameron Roswell]

Cameron would be the first to admit that Quidditch didn't interest him, grateful none of his friends had ever gotten it in their heads to go play and force him to attend games. Accio however had no such qualms however, which was why he was now camped out here in the stands getting action shots of the Ravenclaw team practice instead of back in his dorm where it was quiet and not bloody freezing.

At least the stands were empty he thought grimly, raising the camera to his eye to adjust the zoom and get a decent shot of one of the chasers attempting a goal. Ngawaita thankfully got the lucky task of getting full team photos and any game shots, Cameron just needed to get a few extras for a mid-page spread and he could get out of here.

 

[Lucy Holland]

Quidditch had been just as much fun last year as Lucy had expected, and she was hoping that this year if she was lucky she would get a chance to play an actual game. If she just gave her best in practices she knew it would happen eventually. So she had been trying her hardest, putting extra strength into her swings the way she had picked up from Odette over the holidays, swinging from the upper arm as hard as she could. She put a bit of extra stink on her swing in the hopes of getting a good hit on one of her teammates, but disappointment hit as it flew wide of all of her targets. Lucy had almost directed her attention away entirely when she realised there was a person in the ball's trajectory, sitting in the stands with a camera. Why was there a boy in the stands?! "LOOK OUT!" She called, far too late.

 

[Cameron Roswell]

Cameron only had enough time to swivel his head, camera still mostly raised in front of him. He was vaguely aware of thinking it was odd that he'd somehow put his lens cap back on without noticing, why else would his viewfinder suddenly be blacked out and then the next thing he knew, he was flat on his back staring at the sky.

Cameron's head spun and there was spiking sharp ache that ran from his eye socket up to his temple before completing a hellish loop around to the back of his head. "What the actual f-" He started, trying to sit up only to slump back onto his elbows, hand flying to grip at his head as the stands suddenly took a wobbly spin and his head did an admirable impression as if someone was driving an ice pick into it.

 

[Michael Watson]

Michael was feeling pretty good about the team this year, he had to say. He, Monday, Savannah and Rory were experienced at this point, and all the younger players were enthusiastic and clearly skilled. He had a particular fondness for the two Lucys, hoping to give the younger of the two a go on the starting lineup this year as he wanted to give her some game experience. She just needed to refine her accuracy a little bit and she'd be a star, he thought.

It was just as he was thinking that that he heard her cry out and before he could even do anything, he saw the bludger head towards the stands and make contact. He was vaguely aware there'd been photography going on, but Michael had been far too busy keeping an eye on the team and making mental notes of what areas they needed to work on before their first game to pay any real attention. He flew over to where Lucy was, figuring the chasers were smart enough to focus on their trainee keeper for a bit. The colour drained from his face when he realized who it was Lucy had hit. "Good swing," he said, quietly but loud enough for her to hear. "Let's, uh, keep working on controlling the destination though." He knew full well that was easier said than done, bludgers had a mind of their own, but not hitting the stands was something they could at least guarantee with enough practice.

With a small sigh, Michael headed over towards where Cameron was sitting, hoping desperately that the older boy wasn't seriously hurt. Concussions weren't something to be taken lightly, if that's what had happened. He didn't really know what to do next, as usual, but memories of kids getting hit in the helmet at school cricket came flooding back in a sort of vague haze. "Uh. Hey, Cameron. Can you hear me?"

 

[Lucy Holland]

As much as she had hoped her warning would be enough, Lucy watched in horror as the ball struck the boy in the stands squarely. She barely even heard Michael's comments as she pressed to her broom, shooting towards him in a flurry. "I'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorry!" She stammered, jumping off her broomm to stand next to the boy. She had never felt guilty about hitting her teammates before, but a strange was a different matter all together. "Are you okay?"

 

[Cameron Roswell]

Cameron groaned again when he heard the sound of Michael Watson's voice, resisting the urge to try to swat the other boy away from him (something that was mostly assisted by the distinct impression that if he removed either hand from their positions either propping him up or holding his head, then things were going to get very dicey). This was not how Cameron wasn't to get acquainted with Margo's shiny new boyfriend.

"Did you just hit me with a bludger?" He finally managed incredulously, brain starting to piece together what had just happened in fragments of the world's worst jigsaw puzzle. Cameron had never been hit by a bludger before and if this was what it felt like then he had no idea why anyone who didn't have a death wish wanted to play. "What do you think?" He asked the girl sourly, noting the beater's bat in her hand and groaning again. "Please tell me my camera survived," he added, turning his head to try and look for it before immediately stopping himself as his stomach and head both made their displeasure at the movement known.