Open Day One: Gotta Train

Fraser Fergusson

quidditch obsessed; dejected
 
Messages
422
Blood Status
Mixed Blood
Relationship Status
Too Young to Care
Wand
Knotted 10 1/2 Inch Flexible Vine Wand with Fairy Wing Core
Age
10/2046 (14)
Fraser wasn't wasting any time with it. It was day one, he had woken up bright and early on his first day at Hogwarts and without even considering going back to sleep, he had gotten up and come to the pitch. It was a bit of a miserable day for it, it was dark and overcast. Likely about to rain, but that wouldn't stop him. If he was on a professional team, it wouldn't stop him, so it wasn't about to now. The Gryffindor had grabbed his dad's old Streak and headed out to the pitch. He had a good quidditch jacket on and as soon as he reached the pitch he took out the practice quaffle and then set off to start his training. Laps, then practice tossing. If he was going to get on the house team, he needed to be hard at work already.
 
(don't mind me just sliding in here)

Conan had struggled to sleep all night, tossing and turning and unused to being surrounded by so many other people. And not to mention the homesickness and nerves swarming his brain every time he closed his eyes. So, he was awake when he heard movement in the dorm room and had watched Fraser waste no time in getting dressed and leaving. And, rather curious as to why he was awake so early in the morning on their first day, Conan had decided to quickly dress himself and follow the other boy to see what he was up to. So, when he finally caught up to find that he was already on the Quidditch pitch and in the air, Conan was somewhat disappointed. "You're practicing already?" He didn't know what he had been expecting to find, but this wasn't it. He knew the other boy liked Quidditch, but this was a bit too much. It was still early. And they hadn't even had breakfast yet.
 
Fraser hadn't noticed that he'd been followed to the pitch, he had very much been way too focused on getting out and get practicing. He wasn't even in the air long when he spotted the other figure on the ground. The air was silent, with only them outside, and he heard the person speaking, though didn't quite make out what was being said by them. Fraser went to the ground, thinking perhaps it was someone who wanted to practice with him. It would always be easier to practice with someone. He got close enough, hovering just off the ground. "Conan?!" he greeted warmly, though he was also shouting to be sure the boy heard. "You want to practice with me, I've got this quaffle we can toss around," He wasn't sure if he would want to, perhaps he was just up early and exploring.
 
Now he was actually standing there on the pitch, there was a rather unusual feeling in his gut, one he wasn't so sure he knew how to place. It wasn't like he missed playing Quidditch or anything. Of course it wasn't that. All the years he had made a point of ignoring it and refusing to sit on a broom again had worked. He didn't care about Quidditch. At all. But that feeling just got worse when Fraser asked if he wanted to practice. "I, um, don't know," he offered hollowly, anxiously wringing his hands , "Thanks for the offer and everything. I mean, I haven't sat on a broom in years. And I only ever really played as a beater. So I probably wouldn't even be very good practice. Thank you, um, yeah." He didn't know half the words that had even come out of his mouth, awkwardly coffing as he moved one hand to rub the back of his neck. "You can keep practicing. I'll just... watch." Was watching creepy? Maybe it would be better if he just left.
 
Fraser really was quite surprised at the fact someone else was up. The gryffindor hoped that he hadn't accidentally woken him, he'd feel pretty bad if he had, on this very first day of school. Fraser was hoping that he might join him in the air, but it didn't seem like he would. All the reasons for not seemed pretty legitimate. "If you're sure? I don't mind you watching. But if you want we can just do laps, I'd be happy to do that, I need to work on my speed anyway," he offered, in case he would be content to just fly around on the brooms. He needed to work on so many elements, practicing and train so many things. He could practice his tossing tomorrow anyway. If Conan really didn't want to fly around, if he really just wanted to watch him, he'd be fine with that.
 
It was probably too late to just turn around and come back the way he had come. No point in going back to bed, he was awake now. And Fraser was being very nice about things, offering to just do laps together instead of practicing any quidditch. "I don't have a broom," he offered as a first excuse, though knowing full well there were ones that students could borrow if they wanted to. "And I haven't really flown in years." There were probably more excuses he could come up with if he wanted to. But, thinking about it, he would have to fly at some point this year. First years were required to take flying classes. So, he sighed. "But... I guess I could get in some extra practice for flying class." The last thing he wanted was to be so out of practice he just fell off his broom on the first try.
 
Fraser was thinking he was perhaps managing to soften this up, enticing him in to get in the air. The first excuse was not one he'd expected, since he knew there were spare brooms. Perhaps, though not everyone knew that. Fraser knew that none of Conan's family had come to Hogwarts, where he'd had plenty, and plenty to tell him where spare brooms were. Fraser landed back onto the ground and chucked the quaffle away, making a mental note to remember to grab it when they were done. "I can help you! We can take it slow, and fly low, so if you do fall it'll be a low fall," he assured him. "There's a broom cupboard, we can borrow one from there," Fraser was already moving to where he knew the brooms were.
 
Conan didn't really want to seem like a baby or anything. Flying a broom might just be like riding a bicycle - something you never forgot how to do. And sure, he had been repressing all memories of flying from when he was younger, but they would no doubt come back to him quick. After all, when he was very little he did have dreams of being a quidditch player just like his father. Not any more, of course. "I don't want to hold you back or anything," he did have to point out, though was following Fraser towards the broom cupboard all the same. "It's not going to be much of a practice for you if we just fly in low circles." He had been the one to butt in on what Fraser was doing, so he did feel a little bad for the other boy.
 
Fraser shrugged at the comment, sure this wouldn't be what he wanted to do with his first morning of training, but it wouldn't be his only practice. ”You won't,” he assured him. He wasn't sure why he was pushing so hard, but it just seemed to him like perhaps he did want to fly. Maybe just a little bit. Fraser shook his head again. ”I'll be back tomorrow, and the day after and the day after that. I can practice harder then,” he assured him. ”Plus, if I can do the basics of flying, then I can't do the rest,” Fraser gave a warm smile. ”Look, I won't push any more, it's up to you, but I'd be happy to fly in low circles with you,”
 
Conan did have to frown a little, tilting his head. "Why are you so determined to practice all of the time?" Practicing every day just to make a quidditch team just seemed a bit... excessive to him. "I mean, it's just quidditch." It wasn't anything special, not anything to waste time practicing every single day. He might like football and enjoyed playing, but he wouldn't even consider doing it every single day, day in and day out. There were other adventures to be had, places to explore, new spells to learn. "I mean, I've flown before. I'll probably just... get back into the swing of it quickly."
 
Fraser glanced at him and shrugged. ”I gonna go pro,” he said to him, since that was all he wanted, he wanted to be as good as his dad, if not better than him. He wanted to be a star player, and he knew he needed to work for it, and would do so from day one. Fraser nodded. ”I'm just gonna grab you one, and you can decide,” He walked away from Conan and was quickly moving to get him a broom. He would just get one, just get him one, and then afterwards the boy could decide what he wanted to do. If he flew or if he wouldn't. The Gryffindor would be quick, grab one, and then go back to where he had left him.
 
"Even pros take time off," he did have to point out. "They don't practice so hard every single day." He still remembered the time he dad would take when he was still a kid, even if he had tried to forget. Before he had decided that quidditch was more important than family. And, besides, they were still kids. There was plenty of time to be worrying about furiously practicing to try and be a pro player. "I said I'd probably be fine," he did have to mumble, aimlessly kicking a foot against the ground. He wasn't completely hopeless at this, even he used to be obsessed with flying when he was little, spending hours and hours happily flying in circles on a kiddie broom his father had bought him for his fifth birthday. He just needed to get used to it again and he could probably keep up.
 
Fraser knew pros took days off, but he wasn't a pro yet, and he had taken the day before off, and a few days before that. He needed to focus, there would much time before the try-outs. He just went to get Conan a broom, and returned quickly. It was a fairly old broom, a good nimbus 2000, but that had seen perhaps better days. He put it on the ground next to Conan not handing it to him before just getting back on his own broom and raising up a few feet in the air. "So?" he asked. If the answer was still no, Fraser could go back to what he was doing and had given this a fair shake.
 
He did not get a response to the point he had made, so he decided not to really press it any more. Besides, he supposed it was none of his business. If Fraser wanted to waste most of his life practicing for a stupid game, then he was more than welcome to. And then a broom was placed on the ground next to him and Conan hesitated, glancing back over at Fraser as he took back to the air. Part of him still didn't want to do this, stick to his guns and continue to hate flying and quidditch to spite his father. And yet, now he was actually looking at the broom he wanted nothing more in the world to hop on it and fly. "Said I was going to, didn't I?" He responded, quickly grabbing the broom and swinging a leg over it. All it took was a long breath to calm himself before he was pushing off from the ground, only wobbling for a moment as he rose higher before settling. "Thank you." He did have to add with a small smile, looking back over at the boy. He wasn't going to exaggerate what he was thanking him for, but it still needed to be said.
 
Fraser sat in the air, hovering not too far off the ground, watching to see if Conan would join him in the air. Fraser watched him kick off a little wobbly to begin with, and then he was in the air. Settling at not a bad height. Fraser moved in next to him and shrugged, "No problem Conan,” he told him, giving the boy a wide smile. He was glad that he was in the air. He wasn't sure how much more he should push things to try to get Conan to fly with him. But decided that he'd give him a minute or so, just see what he did next to be able to know what he would do if to help him or to fly with him. He would stay true to it and just fly around at the lower height.
 
He had completely forgotten what it was like to be up in the air with nothing but a stick of wood between your legs stopping you from falling. It was almost freeing. And, as always, just a little bit terrifying as well. "I mean it, Fraser." He just wanted the other boy to know that. Without him, Conan knew he probably would have refused to touch a broom, let alone get on it and fly again. But now he was up in the air, he was already itching to fly around some more, letting out a breath as a bit more of a confident grin settled on his lips. "So, what kind of practice did you have in mind?"
 
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Fraser wasn't sure why Conan stressed his thanks, but he just nodded. Since for him it didn't matter, they were in the air and about to fly and he loved flying. Quidditch was the best thing ever and the flying that made the sport was amazing too. "Well, I was just gonna be practicing my scoring, but, we could do some flying around first, maybe a little speed and a little zigzaging," Fraser wasn't sure what Conan would want to do now in the air. He seemed content but they were only a little in the air. He thought, flying around and getting used to it, getting faster and doing a little maneuvering around each other would get the feel for flying back.
 
Conan was sure that he was going to be fine. Now he was up in the air it was all coming back to him and he wasn't worried about falling off to his death or anything ridiculous like that. And even if he did fall, the Hospital Wing was there for a reason. There was no need to be worried. So, he just grinned at Fraser, eagerly nodding his head at the options. "Oh, well, I'm good with doing whatever. I'm the one who interrupted your practice, so you should get to pick what we do. That's fair, after all."
 
Fraser watched him for a moment, but he seemed to be getting more at ease with being on the broom. Fraser didn't want to start him off too strong, thinking that while Conan appeared to be becoming at ease with flying, that it wasn't too bad. ”Let's do some laps, first to do three whole laps can pick what we do next,” he challenged, though he was already setting off on his broom without really giving Conan the opportunity to agree. He wasn't going too fast, going at a fair speed but definitely not as fast he knew he could go.
 
Fraser was rather quick to offer a suggestion and set off before even waiting to see if Conan was going to follow. But he didn't have to worry about that, of course he was going to follow now he had bothered to get in in the air. So, sucking in a breath to prepare himself, Conan steadied himself on his broom and set off at a medium pace, not really wanting to push his luck and go too fast at first. Though, the confidence was quickly coming back and it wasn't too long before he was flying right alongside Fraser, throwing the boy a grin. "This the fastest you can go?"
 
Fraser was moving at a steady speed as Conan caught up to him. He smiled easily at the boy, letting out a little laugh, before getting his broom to speed up, going quite a bit faster than he had been. Fraser could sense that Conan was getting it, and there was no sense for him to coddle him. From the way he was flying, the boy knew how to fly. He was quite good at it, too. So Fraser would happily push them to go quicker while still keeping a bit of an eye on him.
 
A part of him almost wanted to turn this into a race, really push the limits and see how fast he could bring himself to go. But, after a quick thought he decided it was probably not best to be so reckless. Not on the first flight he had taken in quite some time. It was still quite the possibility he could fall off his broom and accidentally break his neck. But he was, however happy to get a bit faster, grinning as he pushed forward to catch back up with Fraser. Seemed the other boy was quite a talented flier himself, not that Conan had expected less from someone who had dreams of being a pro Quidditch player.
 
Fraser was glad that Conan was trying to catch up, he was trying his best to not make this a competition, because every bone in his body wanted to speed up. It would be fun to compete, but it was more important that they just fly and train and practice. Competitions could come later. But this wasn't meant to be a competition, he didn't want to make it a competition. He just wanted to have a bit of fun and train with his friend, who was finally up in the air. He glanced back at him, keeping his current speed and beginning to close out the very first lap.
 
This was just practice. This was all this was. Practice so he didn't make a fool of himself in flying lessons. He didn't want to get attached to flying again or anything stupid like that. He'd made a vow to himself not to care, that he didn't want anything to do with flying or Quidditch ever again. But now he was up in the air, flying just behind his friend in hot pursuit, he couldn't help the smile. Loving the feeling of the wind blowing through his hair, nothing but the sky underneath him. He wasn't his father's son. He wasn't. "You're going to have to speed up if you want to outfly me!" He shouted, pushing himself to go a little faster, just enough so he could ever so slightly pass Fraser.
 
Fraser grinned easily at the teasing, especially as Conan started to pass him. He urged his broom just a little faster, letting it be neck and neck between them. He let himself pushed just a little ahead of Conan but wasn't speeding off. Fraser was enjoying having them be neck and neck and didn't want to put Conan off or go too fast that this lost all enjoyment for them both. Fraser knew it could become a race, and that he would probably be as eager for the race but he was also so keen to not make it all about that either. He pushed himself a little faster.
 

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