"What have they done to our quidditch pitch?" Ciara asked as she stared at the small plants growing from the soil.
"It's for the tournament- there's no quidditch this year." Her friend explained.
"No quidditch- are you joking?" She exclaimed.
"McGonagall, there's got to be some kind of mistake. There are plants on our quidditch pitch." Ciara said to the professor with great concern.
"I am quite aware of this Miss Cooke. Quidditch this year is cancelled due to the Triwizard Tournament taking place." She told the girl.
"Why? Grow the stupid trees somewhere else. Or even better- there's an entire bloody forest out there for them to use!"
The professor moved her spectacles down her nose to peer at the girl, "Why is the quidditch pitch of such importance? It bears no academic relevance."
"It does if I want to be a quidditch player!" Ciara exclaimed, "Where am I supposed to practice? I can't aim at a window."
McGonagall studied her then said, "I thought I'd be finished with my share of quidditch obsessed students when Wood left last year. Apparently I won't be so lucky. I'd suggest if you can't find somewhere to practice, you might want to focus on your studies. Your transfiguration essay was supposed to be titled 'The Effects of Changing A Rat Into A Goblet' not 'The Effects of Changing a Rat Into a Bludger'"
Ciara groaned and left the office, tripping over a statue as she walked out.
