The stands erupted with screams and cheers as the Bludger smashed straight into Prokowski's ribcage, knocking the Quaffle from his grasp and sending him plummeting thirty feet. Someone with foresight and a sadistic streak had decided to put Durmstrang's Quidditch pitch above a lake, and Prokowski hit freezing water instead of grass.
"That is why I don't play Quidditch," Igor said haughtily, watching Prokowski and his broom bob to the surface. "It's mad."
Next to him, Basil whooped for the players zooming overhead, then laughed.
"Really, Igor? And here I thought it was because you can't stay on a broom."