#quodpot

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You know what? Since I gave my ideas for Illvermorny, why not give some Quodpot stuff I have too.

There are 11 positions on a Quodpot team. 6 Chargers, 4 Runners, and the Commander. The Runners are sort of the equivalents of chasers in Quidditch. Their job is to move across the field and score by throwing the Quod into their teams cauldron. Only Runners and Commanders are allowed to actually touch the Quod and score points. If any of the chargers touch the ball, it's a foul, and the ball is given to the other team, as well as its explosion timing lowered. Chargers are responsible for trying to either delay runners or to knock the ball out of their hands so that the Quod can be caught by a member of their team. Commanders are responsible for scoring goals like Runners, but they're also responsible for making the teams plays and deciding what strategy to use before each move. If the Quod explodes in the face of a runner or commander, they're called off the field. The games over once all a teams Runners and their Commander are off the field, so often players try not to have the Commander hold onto the ball for long or make goals. Each cauldron is held on towers at opposite ends of the field and the players meet in the middle before each move for the ball, similar to Quidditch. Each goal is worth 10 points each.

Just like how football is considered more violent than soccer, Quodpot is a LOT rougher than Quidditch. There's lots more physical damage, crashes, injuries, broken bones, and players getting roughed up in general. Healers are on standby at all times, and it's not uncommon for them to rush out to heal up a hurt player. There's an unofficial record for how many times the healers will have to be called in on games.

Most non-Americans or people who have never seen a game of Quodpot think that when someone says the ball will "explode," that just means it'll burst with a small pop. But no. When the Quod explodes, it goes off like a bomb in the players arms and leaves them covered in scorch marks. To protect themselves from that, players during games wear armor overtop of their Qoudpot robs. The armor is similar to a Roman or Greek armor, with gauntlets, greaves, shoulder armor, chest plates, and, of course, helmets. The armor is always done to match with the team colors, with their team's logo stamped onto the side of their helmets. The helmets themselves are especially important as they're enchanted to dampen the effects of the balls explosion on the eyes, nose and ears. While it COULD be possible to make it so that the helmets and armor COMPLETELY nullified the effects of the exploding Quod and keep the players from getting hurt by it, as one teams coach put it, "that'd take the fun out of the game".

A Quod usually explodes within twenty to thirty minutes of being in play, depending on things like how many times it's thrown, how fast the player is holding it is flying and other factors. Players CAN choose to throw the ball before it explodes (they're only taken out if they're actually holding the ball when it blows) and some even attempt this as a tactic to take out opposing players by giving THEM the ball just as it's about to go off, but it usually doesn't work as most Runners train not to instinctively catch the ball unless it's thrown by one of their teammates and simply let it go off in their face.

That's not a dumb question at all!

Of course Barry was happy Pukwudgie was up by 1 Quod. Especially against Wampus.

When Iris bopped him on the nose with his broom and pointed to the hole he had been tapping into the stand with his foot going a mile a minute, he realized it didn’t really appear that way.

“Ooh! And Don Hall drives another one right between Shayera and Katar Hol--who apparently have no relation, how do ya’ figure that?--for yet another point for Pukwudgie!”

Katar Hol, one of the Wampus Claws, flew past the stands and snarled. “Just the facts, Ralph.”

“You hear that folks? Well, of course most of you didn’t--I’m the one with his voice magnified! Katar Hol taking up a complaint with your innocent ol’ commentator Dibny. What a world, what a world--And Carol Ferris takes possession of the new Quod for Puk! Somebody throw out an Aguamenti, cuz they’re on FIRE!”

Barry turned to say something to John and remembered the spot was empty. He peered over the drop to the ground below where Spell-Lieutenant Kilowog was chatting it up with Wand 1st-Class Stewart.

“For a kid who’s punishment is over you sure like torturing yourself,” Iris said. She handed him his broom. “There’s always next year. Y’know, if all that Dark Lord stuff overseas gets taken care of.”

“It was supposed to be temporary.” Barry absently took hold of his broom. He looked back up to Quodpot game. They’d gotten saddled with Lamp Corps duty the same week tryouts started. It was like adding insult to injury.

Not to say Dinah Lance, Beatriz Da Costa and Lisa Snart weren’t tearing it up as three of Pukwudgie’s newest Quodpot team members, but Barry knew if he’d actually gotten the chance to try out he’d have made the team, too. He stopped himself when he realized he was tapping his foot again, 

He imagined himself up there, instead of Maseo Yamashiro passing an easy intercept to Beatriz (or maybe he’d have been close enough. If he were up there). Tatsu Toro, probably overeager to impress her fellow Wampuses, caught it and seconds later was knocked out of the game by the explosion. Barda Big persevered and rallied the remaining half of her team, but the final third ended with Pukwudgie 22, Wampus 9.

Everyone was getting up to leave, most people with eyes on the stairs, when gasps when up in the stands.

One of the Pukwudgie players, Scot Free, was wobbling dangerously on his broom. People started trying to get the attention of Coach Scott or one of the players, but it was too late.

Barry was in the air, not even remembering when he’d mounted his broom. Aiming for the point where he could intercept Scot before he reached the ground.

He was forty feet away... twelve... two...

CRASH!

Fandom: Harry Potter

Characters: Mostly James Sirius Potter, cameos/mentions of his family members.  

Status/Word Count: Technically the incomplete beginning of a longer story, but it kind of works as its own drabble. 377 words.

Summary: James Sirius Potter experiences some bumps as he sets off on his Quidditch career. Not CC compliant. 

Author’s Notes: Don’t be surprised if I put out a complete version of this in September, because I already have a basic idea of where this fic is going.

James Sirius Potter loved Quidditch. Not in the way that most people loved Quidditch; not even in the way that most of his family loved it. Quidditch was his passion, his reason for being, his life.

(Alright, technically that wasn’t true---James actually loved Quodpot even more than Quidditch. He had been obsessed with that sport since he was nine, when his family took a vacation to America and he saw his first match. The excitement! The raw athleticism! The explosions! He followed the game as closely as he could and became a dues-paying member of the British Society of Quodpot Supporters at age twelve. But Quidditch was still his first love, and anyway the Ministry stubbornly refused to start up a Quodpot League in the U.K. The blighters.)

James joined the Gryffindor Quidditch team as a Beater in his second year, just like two of his uncles, and was Captain by sixth year, just like both of his parents. He howled in misery when he lost that year’s cup to Hufflepuff (made worse by the fact that their Seeker was his stupid baby brother) but cried tears of joy in his final year when they won against Ravenclaw (take that, Rose!)

Now he was an adult, ready to try out for a professional team. He was following in the footsteps of his mother, a celebrated Chaser who had helped win her team the Championship back in 2002. Her own career had been cut short to have him, but now he would repay her by continuing her legacy, trying out for her old team and bringing even more glory to the Potter and Weasley names.

Except that the Holyhead Harpies rejected him. 

Three times. Wouldn’t even let him try out.

“James, dear, it’s sweet that you want to fly in my broom-path, but you know that the Harpies only accept witches, right?”

“Yes, they made their discriminatory policies incredibly clear to me, thanks.”

Rose rolled her eyes. “He just wants to be on a team where he’ll be surrounded by ‘fit babes,’” she said, making air quotations. 

“No, I don’t! That’s just a fringe benefit!”

Pretty much, if you don’t count Chris’ obstacle courses and death traps. Some of us tried an informal game of Quodpot once, but it…ended badly.