Quidditch Training Pitch

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Morning Maintenance 101  PV Barnaby Ryker 

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{ PV Hjørdis Jensen & Barnaby Ryker }
Hjørdis looked up into the sky. It was still dark. The sun had not even started to rise yet, they had a good while before it did. She sighed softly, almost inaudibly, into the darkness. She preferred to run in the morning; it was a good way to wake herself up. Normally, her runs started at five in the morning. Today was slightly different. She had slept in, giving herself another hour of sleep for once. There was a very valid reason for this behaviour, of course.

The Slytherin had recently brought a small place in Hogsmeade, which she had just settled into. Yesterday evening, she had moved her some things over into the house from her grandmother's place in Ireland. For the first time, in a long time, she actually had a fixed abode. A place to call her own. It was a little strange, knowing this was new career and new housing meant she would actually be fixed to this location for a while. But in a way, it was pretty comforting. It made a change, one that she was very much looking forward to. Hjørdis had unpacked and decorated a little yesterday, had an amazing homecooked meal and slept so well in a bed that was not hidden away in the cold dungeons. She deserved the extra hour's sleep, it was just far too cosy and comfortable to leave.

Of course, she was not planning on spending all of her time there. She had a job to do, after all and had a room located in the dungeons of the castle - which was where she spent most of her time. However, it was just nice that she had a place outside of work to go to, somewhere she could spend her holidays if she wanted to.

Dressed in a pair of running leggings, a vest top, trainers and an additional running jacket for warmth against the cold October mornings, Hjørdis ran through the grounds of Hogwarts. She was still familiarising herself a little with some parts of it and her morning jogs were a good time for it. It was quiet and there was never anyone around - just the way she liked it. Besides, if she did find any students at five, they would usually be breaking curfew, which was all the more reason for her to catch them.

She had been running for a while now, in a random direction. The Grounds are very markings or borders. It was hard to tell where one area ended and another began. Some places were obvious exceptions to this. The Quidditch Pitch, for example, had a massive stadium and clear warning. But the Quidditch Training Area was just grass for the most part. It was not until she got closer, she saw any signs of otherwise.

Morning Maintenance 101  PV Barnaby Ryker 

A small layer of fog had draped itself over the quidditch training pitch. It was early morning, way early, and the grass was still wet from last days rain. The sky was just turning from dark to a dull gray, signaling another day and the possibility of rain.

Out on the pitch there was just Barnaby, working on the school brooms. He was wearing an old flat cap on his head, in gray tweed, the same as his pants and jacket. He looked more like a 1920s gangster then a professor. He puffed on the cigar in his mouth.

“Easy girl…” he said, trying to calm the broom lying on an old work rack in front of him. Like most of the flying equipment the school owned, this rack too was faded and old. Well used and badly taken care of. Barnaby had never imagined the state most of the equipment was in, whatever the last flying professors did it at least wasn’t taking care of the equipment. By his side lay a bundle of other brooms, all looking like they had seen better days. The broom on the rack that Barnaby was working on was especially tattered looking, and it was moving about, as if it was in pain.

Barnaby had always thought magical equipment acted like it had a soul, so he treated it like it did, calming it like people would calm a spooked animal. Maybe it was just his muggle roots that saw it like that, because he had met a lot of magic blooded quidditch players that just treated their broom like a piece of wood.

“Damn” Barnaby said under his breath as he looked at a drizzle of blood dripping down his hand. He had cut himself while trimming the brooms brush. “Bloody hell, you just keep refusing to lay still, don’t you...”. The broom tussled on the rack, as if confirming his statement.

Barnaby pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and wrapped it around his hand as he started looking for something to tie the broom down. He didn’t like the idea of tying it down, he treaded brooms like animals after all, and who would want to tie a scared animal down. But the brush had to be trimmed…
As he looked around, he noticed someone jogging onto the field. It was one of the teachers he hadn’t really spoken to. The Slytherin head of house… She had a weird name if he remembered correctly. Hjordass or something.

“HEY! Hjordass! Mind helping me out a bit?” Barnaby waved a hand at the Professor, asking as nicely as he could while shouting.

If the professor chooses to come over Barnaby will continue by asking if she don’t mind holding the broom while he trims the brush. He will then ask her to be gentle if she does like most wizards and treats it like an object, or he will nod in approval and go back to trimming if she too treats it like a wounded animal.

You can become whatever you want, its like magic... unless the "whatever" is a beater, then i'mma bash your face in with a bat.

Morning Maintenance 101  PV Barnaby Ryker 

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Hjørdis sighed softly as she ran through her grounds, her trainers starting to get a little damp from the wetness of the grass. She was not a huge fan of the rain. It rained a lot more in the United Kingdom than it did back home. Rain was one of the few times that Hjørdis always took the witch approach. In most things, she adopted a muggle approach where she could. Her outfit was always muggle clothing, she unpacked her things and moved into her new house manually - the muggle way - by carrying it, she cooked or watched TV. Her house and lifestyle was done the muggle way more often than not. Even if it took hours to unpack, she rather do it manually, than use the spell to do it all. It was more fun that way. But rain. Rain was different. Rain ruined her hair and makeup and drenched her clothing. It made her appearance go from perfection to pitiful in a matter of moments - and that, was not acceptable to her. When it rain, she was always the first to use the umbrella charm to avoid getting her hair soaked.

As she ran, her eyes caught a glimpse of a figure in the distance. A man that looked like he was working intently on something. She paid no mind to him, deciding to leave him be and continue to run. The sooner she completed her rounds, the sooner she could get back indoors and away from the looming rain clouds. The mist and fog in the morning dew was not actually helping either. It was not until she heard a voice coming from the direction of said man that she stopped, slowly down and glanced over. He called her, waving her over. Well, at least, he called someone with a name that sounded like he said ‘Jordass’, whoever that was. Did he literally just call her... Wow. Okay then. He called her 'dirt-' wow... 'Jord' meant 'dirt' in her language.

Her eyes narrowed at him instantly. Barnaby Ryker. If this was his version of asking for a favour, it was a pretty bad start to it. Who was ‘Hjordass’?!? Hjørdis, nonetheless, turned and walked over to him - mentally warning herself to have patience with the man that had already irritated her. In fact, her left eyebrow was twitching ever so slightly. It was probably something he did not even notice but it was a sure sign of her irritation, one that someone who knew her very well would pick up on after time.

This was the reason that she introduced herself as ‘Nora Jensen’ to people. No one could say Hjørdis properly and she rather they did not try. Admittedly, people often did not get it as bad as the Flying Professor did. He had, unknowingly, just insulted her in her own language. Well, she suspected he did it unknowingly. It still irritated her, nonetheless. “Jensen. The name’s Jensen. Not whatever you said.” Hjørdis replied as she approached him, her tone of voice stern enough to indicate that he should not try calling her by his former greeting again. “What do you want, Ryker?” She asked him, blankly. It was not in a mean way, simply direct. She simply wanted to know what she could do for him today and what exactly he needed help with.

He proceeded to ask her if could hold the broom whilst he trimmed the brush. Hjørdis simply quirked an eyebrow at him as she looked at the broom, wondering why that was even necessary. From what she could recall, the Flying Professor was meant to be a washed-up Quidditch player. A formerly famous one... What kind of player couldn't even handle their own equipment? She rolled her eyes mentally to herself, deciding not to show it outright. Instead, she ought to try and leave a slightly better first impression on him than he was leaving on her. So Hjørdis simply nodded in reply, gently taking the broom in her hands.

Hjørdis did not treat the broom like a wounded animal. She was less worried about it than she would be for a wounded animal. However, she still held it carefully - like she would a baby Niffler. The broom was simply an object to her, however. She did not consider the broom any more alive than she did a wand. They were useful tools that helped a witch or wizard but they were objects, nonetheless. That being said, she looked after people's objects and possessions like she would her own. Hjørdis was a little materialistic, after all. She understood the happiness that objects could bring to one's life. She also understood the sentimental value some objects had. There were plenty of things that she possessed that she cared for. It was strange, to be honest. She treated people with little respect but objects and animals? They got a lot more. Even an object was treated with more respect than people... But that was Hjørdis for you.

Holding the broom carefully, she decided to at least attempt to engage in a conversation with the man, "I assume this helps with control, accuracy or speed?" She asked the man, even though flying did not interest her all that much, "Do you have to do this regularly?" Honestly, it was far too early to be dealing with people and attempting to engage with them on matters she did not care about. However, she was trying - and that should count for something right?

She paused for a while, before deciding to move the conversation to something she was a little more interested in, "I guess that makes this the Quidditch area?" She asked, looking around a little as she tried to work out exactly where she was in relation to the rest of the grounds, so she could formulate a map in her mind and get a better understanding of how Hogwarts was laid out, "You graduated from here right?" Hjørdis continued, deciding his knowledge of where everything was was something she could trust a bit more since he had graduated from here, unlike herself.

Morning Maintenance 101  PV Barnaby Ryker 


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"Mmmh, mind holding her down for me?” Barnaby watched as Nora took hold of the broomstick. He nodded slightly, tightened the handkerchief on his left hand before picking up the trimming scissors again.

He tilted the broom carefully to study the sides, trying to find out where best to start as the fellow professor started talking. "I assume this helps with control, accuracy or speed?". Barnaby clipped a piece of the brush that was sticking particularly far out as Nora asked. The broom twitched a bit as the clipping fell to the ground but calmed down again as Nora was holding it.

“Hmm, well everything helps on speed, making it more aerodynamically and all, it’s mostly unnoticeable though, but on an old girl like this it can stack up” Barnaby puffed a few times on his cigar, as if in thought, before continuing. “This is mostly for the sake of control, we don’t really want too much speed on a school broom either way, at least not the ones not used for quidditch…” Barnaby clipped another twig. “Control however, that’s always good to have, if not then I have to carry children to the infirmary with bruised and broken limbs way too often”

Barnaby sighed as he tilted the broom a bit to the other side. "Do you have to do this regularly?" Nora asked him. Barnaby did not look up at her as moved a twig, trying to see if it would lay down properly or if he would need to clip it.

“A few times a year, more on brooms that get used as much as these…” Barnaby sighed again as he took a glance at the pile of brooms behind him. “But it would have gone quicker if the last bloody professor did his part” Another twig hit the ground as he decided to clip it off, the broom twitched a little, as if feeling the twig being clipped off.

"I guess that makes this the Quidditch area?" For the first time after Nora had taken hold of the broom, Barnaby looked up from it and surveyed the area. “Well, sort of, it’s the training pitch, the quidditch teams practice here, and more advanced flying classes are hold her, but the quidditch matches are played at the school stadium.” Barnaby used his bandaged left hand to move his cigar from one side of his mouth to the other as he turned his attention back to the squirming broom.

Barnaby cut another twig as Nora asked another question "You graduated from here right?". Barnaby looked up at her “Mhhm, that I did, a good few years back” he puffed on his cigar as he seemed to be thinking back. “how so, anything in particular you wanna know?” He looked back down at the broom, cut another two twigs before putting the scissor down. “There, that should hold a while, now I only need to put on another coat of polish up at the workshop…” He looked back up at Nora as he pulled of a couple of clippings that had stuck itself to his tweed jacked. “wanna help me with another one?”
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You can become whatever you want, its like magic... unless the "whatever" is a beater, then i'mma bash your face in with a bat.

Morning Maintenance 101  PV Barnaby Ryker 

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Hjørdis silently listened to the Flying Professor talk about his area of expertise. She was not one that liked to listen to others and do what they said... But she did offer to help him and was actually pretty clueless when it came to brooms or flying. She knew how to fly but it was more something she used when there was no alternatives, rather than out of choice. Hjørdis preferred using the trains and bus services, or apparating if need be. Of course, Hogwarts was one of those annoying places where you had to walk everywhere.

She could not help but raise an eyebrow a little as she heard Ryker refer to the broom as 'old girl'. He was definitely one of those people who named their cars... She never understood that concept. Items were just that, items. They were intended to be used. Yes, some had sentimental value to them. She knew that just as well as anyone else, even if she denied having any emotions or sentiments. But she was not the sort of person to name the object. To her, an 'old girl' would refer to a pet cat or something. Nonetheless, she watched what he was doing as he spoke.

Ensuring that the students were safe was pretty much her only concern when it came to Quidditch. Yes, she wanted Slytherin to win - of course she did. But more than that, she wanted them to be safe. After everything that had happened, safety was paramount and if this helped with the control of the broom then it was something that helped to ensure their safety.

Following Ryker's gaze, Hjørdis spotted the huge pile of brooms. All of them must have been the school brooms that they used for quidditch matches and lessons. They looked pretty worn out and battered, in all honesty. They had not seen a good maintenance in a while, it seemed. She sighed softly, understanding his comment. Hjørdis was never one to rely on the capabilities of others but if they were more reliable then it would certainly help. "Fine." She replied, answering his unasked question. He may not have ever intended to ask it but she answered the question anyway, "I can help you get through those."

Boy, if anyone said Hjørdis was not nice, they were going to get a smack from her. She's so incredibly thoughtful. That gesture is like she just saved his life and asked for nothing in return. She's so selfless. Right? RIGHT?

The Head of Slytherin looked around, getting her bearings. This was the training pitch, which meant she could run through here without too much concern but should check the Quidditch class schedule to avoid having to deal with any students. "Oh, no reason in particular. I was just wondering what it was like being a student here." She kept the statement light and airy but she knew that his age meant that he attended the school around the same time as the Wizarding War. With everything happening in Hogwarts now; the assaults of a masked student not that long ago, the threat of whoever gave him the mask still looming, the fact that this school seemed to attract terrible things to it... Hjørdis was worried. Plain and simple, she was worried. She wanted to know what she was dealing with here. Uagadou was so much safer, it appeared. No one seemed to want to try and find the school in the clouds, which made it much safer than here apparently.

Hjørdis quirked her eyebrow, "Want is a different matter entirely." She replied, "But sure." She agreed to helping him, despite her comment. Perhaps it would go faster if she actually assisted in helping him maintain the brooms, rather than just holding the object down. She pondered quietly to herself before raising the question, "Got any spare clippers?" she asked him in a quiet voice. It was almost as though her body was telling her not to help him. Helping people was still such a new concept to her that she did not actually have her usual confidence behind her voice. It felt weird. Like she was doing something wrong, purposefully trying to get to know her colleagues and actually assist them. It was a very strange concept for her and went against years of avoiding it.