A/N: I do not own Harry Potter
This is for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Assignment #6
Biosciences:zoology task #3
write about working hard
Word count: 389
Sweat poured down her face, plastering her red hair to her sun-kissed skin. It had been nearly an hour today and she still had not mastered it. She'd read about the move nearly a month ago and started, every day after dinner, coming out here to try and learn it.
"Pass, catch, flip," she muttered wishing she'd found someone to practice with. She really needed another person for the pass and catch parts. No one had wanted to come out tonight. Even Harry had been busy.
"Pass," she threw the quaffle towards where one of her teammates was supposed to be, it started falling. "Catch." She dove catching it easily, she hoped whoever she was actually playing would give her a decent pass back.
"Flip!" She spun, her hair nearly touching the ground. "Kick," she whispered. The quaffle bounced off her foot, but instead of flying towards the goal, it went straight up and nearly hit her in the head.
"Fiftieth times the charm," she muttered flying back up. If she could do this, master this move, she could make the team.
"You're already good enough," Harry kept saying. He didn't get it, playing professionally was her dream. Being good wasn't enough, she had to be amazing, be able to pull of something amazing.
"Pass, catch," she repeated flying through the air.
"Flip!" Hair to the ground, lower than she'd planned.
"Kick," she felt the connection, her eyes tracking the quaffle. She nearly fell of her broom as it neatly soared through the sky, straight through the hoop.
"A fluke," she stated. "Again." No one was as hard as her on herself, she practiced even in the worst weather. Right now, it was starting to get dark, her back ached and her hair smelled like mud. She couldn't give up now, not when she might have finally, finally, done it. Going too low was the key, there was no room for error at that level, maybe that's why no used this move? Three times, she did the move correctly three times before landing exhausted, sweaty, and sore. It was too dark to keep going anyway. She grabbed her broom, knowing she'd be back out here tomorrow morning, with Harry, or maybe even Ron, to make sure she'd actually mastered the move, and this hadn't just been a lucky break.