It was usual for the quidditch pitch to be in use on any given Saturday or Sunday, but Elliot took a gamble that the first Saturday back, especially since there was a ball on tonight, that no teams would have hired out the space for their first training session, and to a certain extent he was right. While no team had hired out the pitch, there was a single boy, presumably a keeper, practising his skills by the far set of hoops when Elliot arrived at the arena.Â
Picking the quidditch pitch for it's peacefulness and solitude, which it has a surprising amount of when nobody else is around, Elliot slipped up into the stands, getting as close to the practising boy as he dared, without the boy realising he was there, before taking out his sketchpad and sketching a few random pieces of scenery. The old tree just past the boundaries, the Gryffindor stand in the north-west corner of the pitch, the pile of quaffles at the base of the goalposts. So far he was satisfied with everything that he had produced, it wasn't his best work, that was definitely true, but nothing stood out as outright wrong, which was a good sign.Â
Turning his attention to the boy by the hoops, Elliot became to sketch him. It was difficult trying to capture the way the boys muscles tensed as he reached out to block a quaffle, or how his chiselled jawline clenched whenever he let, or nearly let, a goal past him. It wasn't until Elliot had almost finished his sketch that he realised who the boy was, with a gasp of recognition Elliot cursed himself silently, wondering why he hadn't noticed it before. A muscled Slytherin quidditch player, practising his keeping skills, who else could it be? Of course it was Amycus Carrow.
Elliot was just about to get up and leave when he heard Amycus scream out in frustration, turning around to face the hoops he saw the boy silently cursing himself, presumably after having let a goal in. "You watch the quaffle too much" Elliot called out to him, instantly regretting the decision. This was Amycus Carrow. The boy was renowned for his violent outbursts, Elliot still bore the slight reminder of the black eye he received last time they had crossed paths. When Amycus turned to look where the voice had come from, Elliot scanned the area around him, desperate for a place to hide, when he found none he continued to talk. "You're a good keeper, but you focus on the quaffle too much. You follow it's path and move to stop it at the last possible moment. You need to trust your instincts. When the quaffle's in motion dive for it." Elliot shouted again, hoping he hadn't angered the other boy.
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