Daria Ravenclaw Highland Years Camp Craig Part Two

DISCLAIMER: Daria is the creation of Glenn Eichler and is the property of MTV Viacom. Harry Potter is the creation of JK Rowling and is the property of JK Rowling, Wizarding World, and Warner Brothers. I own neither franchise, and neither expect nor deserve financial compensation for this work of fiction. I am writing for my own amusement and ego gratification.

Incidentally, I enjoy ego gratification. How about writing a nice review?

Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years*Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years

"Look at it this way," said the counselor. "Think of this as literary research."

Daria made no answer. At another time, she might have said no on general principles, but to say no just now would be bratty. Right now she'd had her fill of bratty; Quinn had been acting like a brat all morning. She trudged to the archery range.

The range was occupied: four boys, two other girls, and another counselor. The archery counselor was a tanned brunette wearing a counselor's uniform and a name-tag that read "Debbie." She looked at Daria and Betsy, nodded, and said "Late starter?"

"Yeah," Daria said reluctantly.

"I'm Debbie Locksley," said the counselor. "What's your name?"

"Daria Morgendorffer," said Daria.

"Well, welcome to the archery range," said Debbie. "Do you have any previous experience?"

"No," said Daria.

"OK, we're going to start you off with one of the straight bows. Since you're new at this, you won't have to worry about stringing it yourself. Are you left-handed or right-handed?"

"I'm right-handed," said Daria.

"I see," said Debbie. She looked over her bows and picked one out. "OK, let's use this one." Daria later remembered it as being a very typical fiberglass bow of the sorts sold by sporting-goods stores to children and novices.

"OK, you hold like this," said Debbie, extending her left arm. Now the best position is to keep your left arm straight out and set your feet perpendicular to the target, then pull back your bow string." She looked at how Daria was holding her bow and bowstring.

She turned her attention to another camper who looked like she was also a newbie.

"Juanita, pay attention," said Debbie. "I know you went through the drill once but doing it again won't hurt."

"OK, good, you can relax your right arm, then let go of the bow string. Next, I'm going to teach you how to nock your arrow. Do you see that notch at the end of the arrow? That's where you set your arrow against your bowstring. Keep that odd-colored feather on top. Set your arrow on top of the groove just above the grip, then nock it." That seemed obvious enough to Daria.

"Now we're going to shoot arrows," said Debbie. Juanita drew back her bowstring, but her arrow fell to the ground.

"Darn it!" said Juanita.

"No sweat," said Debbie. "A little practice and you'll get it right. Here, let me show you a little trick. Raise the knuckle of your index finger slightly above the grip and your arrow is less likely to fall."

Juanita looked doubtful.

"Here, like this," said Debbie, showing Juanita. Daria didn't worry; she already had mastered the trick.

"Let's try again," said Debbie. "Knock your arrows."

"Draw back."

"Take aim."

"Fire," said Debbie.

Daria sighted down the arrow at the bullseye and released the bowstring. The arrow flew towards the target, but went low, coming to a stop in the parched grass below and beyond the target. Too low, she thought.

"OK everybody!" said Debbie. "I gave you five arrows and the range is open. Fire at will!"

Somehow Daria recognized the need to keep her left arm straight and steady as she drew back the bowstring. She nocked an arrow, pulled back the arrow and bowstring, looked down the nocked arrow at the target, then released the bowstring with her right finger.

Her second shot was too high. The arrow flew over the top of the target and landed fifteen feet beyond it.

Her third arrow flew past the right side of the target and landed in the grass.

Daria's fourth arrow was a bulls-eye, less than two inches from the dead center of the target. Her fifth and last arrow just missed the target's red circle by less than half an inch.

"Very good, Daria," said Debbie. She was impressed. This kid might have potential.

Daria noticed that some of the girls hadn't finished shooting. She waited until Debbie asked everyone was done shooting, said "Pull!", then followed Debbie and the other archers out to the targets and beyond to gather up her arrows.

This is kinda fun, she thought. She decided that she'd shoot some more arrows and finish out that period.

Betsy kept her bargain. Daria got her book back. The next morning she was back at the archery range.

Debbie called roll, saw Daria, and said "Back for more, are you?"

"Yes," said Daria.

There was some motion and another girl joined the would-be archers, a younger red-head with long, straight hair.

"So you are?" said Debbie

"Quinn Morgendorffer," said the girl. "That's my older sister Daria."

"Your sister did pretty well yesterday," said Debbie. "Do you care to try?"

Quinn looked at Daria with disdain. Her older sister wasn't a sports girl, and Quinn knew it. If a girl like Daria could shoot a bow at a target and hit it, this ought to be super-easy.

Quinn thought she'd nocked an arrow, but to her annoyance, the arrow flipped over the side of the bow when she pulled back the bowstring. Quinn let go of the bowstring to pick up the fallen arrow, the bowstring thrumbing after she let go of it.

"OK, we can try again," said Debbie.

Quinn nocked her second arrow and pulled back the bowstring. Despite the fact that her bow was designed for children and had a low draw weight, she had difficulty keeping it from moving and keeping the arrow aligned against the bow. Her second shot went wild, flying to the side and past the target, and the fact that her sister was watching and smirking at her didn't help one bit. She drew a third arrow, tried to shoot at the target once again and missed; the arrow hit the ground between the two legs of the frame holding the target off the ground. Daria smirked at her. She tried once again, her arrow hit the wooden leg of the target stand and bounced off. She wanted to quit right then and there, and it was all Debbie Locksley could do to get Quinn to make one more attempt. Quinn nocked her arrow, drew back her bowstring, then let go, not even bothering to aim her bow. This time her arrow actually hit the target, just outside the outermost black circle.

It was frustrating. She'd tried to co-ordinate her arm movements and keep her left arm centered, but it was too hard even with the light draw. She kept missing the target when she let go of the bowstring and it was embarrassing. She ought to be able to hit the target and couldn't. It was particularly galling when she saw that her older sister had no problem hitting the target while her arrows went all over the place.

She looked around at the other kids at the range. None of them looked that popular. In fact, a couple of them looked like weirdos. The popular kids were probably doing something else, she thought. She'd find out what that was, and she'd leave the archery range to Daria. She stalked off to find another activity.

-(((O-O)))—

By the end of the first half-session, Daria had mastered the beginner's targets and started to feel a little bored. This was getting to be old hat, she thought.

"Morgendorffer," said Debbie. "How'd you like a challenge?"

Daria stared at the counselor. She wondered if Debbie had some sort of trick up her sleeve. "OK," she said neutrally.

"How would you like to take a shot at the advanced targets?" said Debbie.

The smile Daria made in response might have been scary if she were several years older.

-(((O-O)))—

She scuffed the ground with her shoe, wondering how to spend the early afternoon after lunch. Her hiding place wasn't so hidden; the counselors made passes to round up any kids who'd thought to lay low there, and she hadn't found a good replacement. She heard the sound of music drifting over from one of the other open buildings, occasionally punctuated by the sounds of footwork and the voice of an instructor giving directions to the dancers. It didn't sound like ballet. If the instructor wasn't in the same league as Miss Genevieve, wherever she was, she wasn't awful, either. Her curiosity piqued, Daria walked towards the sound of the music to see what was going on.

"Hello," said the Counselor teaching the class. She was far older than most of the college students who'd filled out the ranks of Camp Craig's counsellors. "I'm Isadora Foote. Are you here for folk dancing?"

"I hadn't decided," said Daria.

"Well, you can watch and then make up your mind," said Mrs. Foote.

Daria looked over the crowd of would-be dancers. There were actually two crowds: one of girls, the other, smaller crowd was all-boy. Daria recognized several of the girls from school. A couple of them looked familiar, she knew she'd seen them somewhere before, but not at school. Then she remembered: they were ballet students run off by Mrs. Crush.

"Ok, this next dance is from what is now Czechoslovakia," said Mrs. Foote. "It's fairly easy to learn and I think you'll quickly get the hang of it." She started the jam box. To Daria's surprise, she recognized the tune from Miss Genevieve's class: whoever had produced the folk dancing records had re-arranged them in a different key and had modified the beat.

Daria watched Mrs. Foote lead the dancers through their paces, remembering ballet class. She realized that she missed it; nobody had stepped up to take over after Mrs. Crush had left town.

These dances looked harmless enough, she was confident that she could learn this dance, and there was nobody around to laugh at her if she took a fall.

She watched the dancers go through the dance, a part of her remembering ballet class, another part thinking that even Miss Genevieve would have thought that they needed more practice. She wondered if she should refuse to join in on general principles. This was not the same as ballet, but then…

"Excuse me," she said, surprising herself.

"What?" said Mrs. Foote.

"Can I join in?" said Daria.

Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years* Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years* Daria Ravenclaw: The Highland Years

Author's notes: One of my ideas about writing fan-fiction crystalized while I was writing Tom Riddle's War, a war story related to the Daria Ravenclaw series, but written with mature themes for adult readers. I realized that I believe that my original or borrowed characters ought to not only have learning curves, but also show where they acquired their skill sets.

I had long planned for my AU version of Daria Morgendorffer to become a good dancer: not good enough to clear the floor like Patrick Swayze and Cynthia Rhodes did in Dirty Dancing, perhaps, but good enough to hold her ground. After reading Entranced Cat's Arrows Through Her Heart, a Daria fan fic, I realized that I also wanted my borrowed character to become a good archer: not Olympic-class, maybe, but good enough to hold her ground.

Since I have about two plot-years before this version of Daria Morgendorffer finally gets on the train to Hogwarts, I decided that summer camp could serve as a place where my AU Daria could begin to develop such skills. Come the time that she shows such traits, it won't be some magically-imprinted Mary Sue skill set, but skills she legitimately come by. And for all that Camp Craig is a made-up summer day camp near Highland, Texas, it's along Daria Morgendorffer (Black's) road to Hogwarts.