Oct 04, 2004 13:13
Quidditch.
I thought this year I would try it from the pitch itself. Instead of just watching from the stands. I'm not a big fan of them, so maybe I'll have better luck out there.
I don't think he would've tried out with me, but he would've helped me prepare. And practise. And sit on the sidelines and sketch us all playing. He would want to be in the stands cheering me on, bragging when we won, raising a drink in a toast. He would help me keep up with my homework, and poke me awake in class when I was tired after working out. There would be jokes about aspiring to play for the championship winning Irish team, and we would muse on it for a while even though I'm crap at chasing (right now). He'd require me to eat something when I was nervous before a game. It would be a lot fun.
But it still will be. I'll be more excited in a few days, I promise. Every new thing just serves to remind me. "This is the first August without him, the first September, the first October..." I'm tempted to crawl back into bed after classes, but I don't want to give in. He always preferred it when I was smiling and laughing.