#roooar

Poppy tore off her school sweater as soon as she got back to her dorm room, smiling in amusement as she watched the Prefect pin go scattering across the floor of the room. "And stay there," she instructed it sternly before spinning around to face the wall next to her bed that was entirely dedicated to all things Quidditch. There were posters, a calendar marked and color-coded for when which teams were playing, stats sheets from prior games and seasons, newspaper cut-outs, and of course, the shelf specially designated to hold her broom-cleaning kit, and her practice snitch.

Her broom was of such a high status that it was often resting against the post of her bed, inside, to make sure no one knocked it over or scratched it. Snatching up her pile of gear for practice, and swinging her broom carefully over her shoulder, Poppy set out through the hallways. She sometimes liked taking the long way round, so people would see her with her broom and equipment, and know that she was on the team. She knew there were some weirdos who did not like Quidditch, but in her own opinion, she must have been like royalty to those who lived and breathed the sport like she did.