A/N: Written for the Philosopher's Stone Competition.
Assignment: The Keeper of the Keys: Write about Hagrid or a professor from Hogwarts.
Maddock's Future
Alasdair Maddock sat in the Magpies' locker room, clutching his favourite pair of flying gloves. Next to him was his monogrammed kitbag, stuffed to the brim with all the little knick-knacks he had acquired over his five years at Montrose. Five years. Had it really already been that long? It seemed like only yesterday he had sat with his agent, discussing which offer to take.
Now he would sit with his agent again, discussing where to go next. No doubt his agent had already compiled a list of possible clubs to take him on. Despite his disgraceful discharge, Alasdair knew he still had a good reputation in the Quidditch world, both as a player and a person. And now that the club had let him go, they had also forfeited the transfer sum that would have been coming to them if they had waited for summer break. He'd be dirt cheap to sign on, now.
Alasdair tried to picture a place he'd want to go. Stay in Britain? Go to Germany, or Russia? Italy had a decent league, and the weather was definitely better than Scotland. To be honest, his interest in Quidditch itself had dwindled somewhat in recent years, and he wasn't sure he even wanted to sign on with any club right now.
But that thought was scary, too. All he'd ever dreamed of doing from his first time watching his mother play for the Holyhead Harpies, was playing Quidditch. All his life his every thought had been Quidditch. And girls, but not much else. At Hogwarts he took the bare minimum of classes, and left school after finishing his OWLs with all A's and E's, thus fulfilling the minimum requirements for playing in the Junior League after school.
Now at twenty-six, though, he didn't have many options to choose from. The best thing he could do is continue with the Quidditch thing. Or take some time off. He did have some money saved; on the insistence of his mother he had set up a savings account at Gringotts. And of course he had a hefty amount of money coming from the Magpies, for the early termination of his contract. His attorney would sort that out for him.
So it seemed Alasdair had some time to figure out what his next move would be. That's it. He would give himself until summer break to figure out what he wanted, and then he'd either be ready to sign on at some other club, or to start a whole new chapter in his life.
Over the next few weeks Maddock's life took a drastic turn. Where before his life had to be planned around team practices, muscle training and diet; now he could do what he wanted. Of course he didn't cut back completely; after years of regular exercise the body gets used to it. But now he had time for other things, things he had always wanted to do. Go out clubbing, or attend a muggle football game, for example. Over the next month he in fact visited many sporting events in the muggle world, as he had developed a fascination for the sheer number of different there were, over the past years.
When Alasdair reached the deadline he had set himself to decide what he wanted to do with the rest of his life, he still was not entirely sure what it was he wanted. When his agents came knocking, and the press demanded answers, all he could say was:
"NO QUIDDITCH!"
Headmistress McGonagall was rubbing her hands together gleefully. Finally her plans would come to fruition. For years she had tried to push her ideas through. First as a student, then as a parent, later as a teacher and as Deputy Headmistress. But now she was in charge, and her lofty plans would finally be realised.
It was time to bring muggle sports to Hogwarts. She had already compiled a list of sports she would like to see practised. She had even drawn up a rudimentary schedule. She had also talked to Hagrid about the perfect place to construct a multi-purpose playing field. She only had to find the right instructor.
She had always thought that it was appalling that only twenty-eight of her almost three hundred students were able to enjoy the benefits of team sports and regular physical exercise. She had also heard many muggleborn students complain about that they couldn't practise their favourite sports anymore, because there wasn't anywhere to play. Of course every years students thought to pack a football, or some other sporting equipment, but pressure from the pureblood community in the school especially quickly killed their desire to bring muggle culture to school.
But no more! However, finding the right person to teach a class like this proved more difficult than she had thought. Finishing her breakfast, she opened the Daily Prophet to the sports page. Maybe I could approach one of the old muggleborn or halfblood students, who had been on their House team, she thought. Reading the news about her favourite Quidditch team, her mouth slowly stretched into a smile:
'RECENTLY SACKED MUGGLEMAD MAGPIE MADDOCK QUITS QUIDDITCH' read the headline. Alasdair Maddock, the perfect candidate. She remembered Maddock. Very well, in fact. An avid Chaser for Hufflepuff just ten years ago, and left with a glowing recommendation from the flying instructor Madam Hooch. He was quickly snapped up by the junior division of the Wimbourne Wasps, where he got promoted to first team after two years. He had signed on for five years, but transferred to the Montrose Magpies for a tidy sum with two years left on his contract.
And now he'd been cut from the Magpies' payroll for using muggle sports in official games. Minerva had seen the last game, where he had lost her team the Quaffle a few times, by trying out basketball moves. Thankfully it hadn't cost them the match, but it did give the Holyhead Harpies a few successful shots at the hoops.
Yes, Alasdair Maddock would be perfect for the position. If she managed to contract the professional Quidditch player, the students wouldn't be able to dismiss the new class out of hand. If she wasn't able to contract him, hopefully she could convince him to at least endorse the new class, and attend the introduction come September. They'd attend the introduction en masse, just because he'd be there, even if he wasn't going to be teaching them.
With vigour, Minerva started to draw up a strategy for approaching the star player. It was going to be a task, getting around the team of agents surrounding the man. But she was Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress of Hogwarts, and she had every British wizard under the age of fifty. No matter how successful her former students became, she was sure they all kept that schoolboy fear, that feeling of forbidding, when they received a letter from her.
'Dear Mister Maddock,
As your former professor and an avid Quidditch fan, I have followed your career with pride, and more than a little amusement. In the inter-House Quidditch competition you have always stood out as one of the better players, and I knew of your generation, you would have the best shot of turning your ambition into a glorious professional career. And you have not let me down.
However, in light of recent events, I would like to offer you a chance to take on a new challenge. For a new class I am planning to introduce to Hogwarts this coming school year, I would like to offer you the position of Hogwarts' Sports Coach…'
A/N: Info on Maddock taken from hp-lexicon. Inspired by this headline in the Daily Prophet, briefly distributed to HP Fan Club members:
MUGGLEMANIC MADDOCK MUST QUIT MAGPIES SAYS MCLEOD