Simner steped onto the quidditch feild first thing in the morning. The sun was jump coming over the lake and the moon just seting behind the castle. He felt the pure white snow brush ageist his ankels. He breathed the the cold air. He pulled out his clean sweep 11 and waited for his team to come onto the feild. This was going to be the year they won the quiddtch cup. He could feel it.

Squall walked out to the quidditch pitch holding his nimbus 2000 broom by the handle. he smiled as he saw Simner and shouted "trophy this year Sim!"

"That what I am hoping for" He said. He knew the others wouldn't be coming. They had all said they were 'sick' he knew it was a lie. He had been training them like dogs. He knew they needed a break. "The others aren't coming... they're sick" he said trying to sound as convincing as he could. He didn't want Squall to feel like he could have not come. He was glad Squall had come. "You wanna get to some shooting though?" he asked.

"sick? there something going around?" Squall asked him "well, i guess one on one cant harm anyone, lets give it a go"

"Alright!!!!" Simner said pulling his leg over his broom and racing up to the hevans. He swooped around the hoops a few times. "Okay come on!!"

Squall grabbed the quaffle under his arm and shot up into the air, straight away heading for Simner and throwing the ball hard at the right hand goalhoop.

Simner shot right and cought the ball. He began to head down the feild towards Squalls hoop.