I add my thanks to Mrs, Rowling for her wonderful characters and world that inspires the imagination.
"What are you talking about?" shouted Draco Malfoy.
"You can't believe there are no initiations for joining the club?" Marcus Flint asked, chuckling from the corner.
"Do you want to be seeker or not?" a voice asked, sounding exasperated by Malfoy's hesitancy.
"I am seeker! You do want to keep the brooms don't you?" Malfoy threatened. "I am not wearing them!"
There were twenty-three other people in the Slytherin Quidditch club's locker room, all watching Malfoy and enjoying the show.
"If you think threats about the brooms will get you out of it your mistaken Malfoy. It is tradition. Every new player has to do it. You do want to be a team player don't you?" someone asked.
"It is only three laps, don't be a wog about it," another decried.
"Ha! I never saw any of you do it, I don't believe you!" shrieked Malfoy, his voice cracking and sounding a bit like a girls.
"You weren't allowed idiot. Only members and alumni are invited you rotten toad. Now get them on and get outside, you're annoying me," jeered a witch who was in her late twenties.
Malfoy looked around dumbfounded. Why would anyone want anyone else to do this? It is ridiculous. Would they really not let me play on the club if I refused, he thought to himself. Potter would love that, wouldn't he? What if Father found out I wasn't Seeker because I refused to abide tradition?
"Fine, lets get it over with then," he finally conceded.
There was a large cheer from the crowd as they filed outside to the pitch. Malfoy reluctantly began to change. It was a brisk November morning. Frost still blanketed the pitch where it was in shadow. A shivering blonde haired Malfoy stood before the others, broom in hand and wearing nothing but a pair of bright pink knickers.
"You know the deal, Malfoy. Three trips about the pitch. Well, get on with it," spat Flint.
Malfoy mounted his new Nimbus 2001 and pushed off into the cold morning air. His skin so numb halfway to the north goals that it wasn't as bad as he thought it would be. He was done in short turn and pulled in for a rather shaky landing since his limbs were not responding correctly.
"Well done!" cheered the group of Slytherins.
"Just one more thing," said Flint.
Shaking and embarrassed, Malfoy looked at him uncaring. The elder witch had come up behind him without his noticing her. Malfoy did not feel her pants him, only realizing something wasn't right as the crowd fell to the pitch laughing hysterically.
