Breakfast and Puddlemore // OPEN
She had just sat down at a table in the small cafe, ordering her coffee and buttered croissant when a large owl swooped into the shop. The owl was a deep dark black, with shimmering navy blue feathers save for it's tail that blazed in a golden hue, catching the morning light perfectly.
"Whose owl's this?" The baker barked at the cafe goers but no one claimed. "Simon, get this Puddlemore pest out of here!" And it clicked. As the owl hoped to Angelina's table, dropping a beautiful envelope in navy with the teams blazoned bullrushes she put the two together.
Simon, the busboy, came rushing around the counter with his wand out. He clumsily made his way to her table as the owl squawked and with a flutter of feathers was out the shops front door as another patron entered.
"Bloddy pests." The baker said again, rolling her eyes. "No owls in my shop!"
Apologizing a few times Angelina went back to her coffee, unfolding the parchment delicately to read.
Owl Addressed to Ms. A. Johnson,
Good morning Miss Johnson,
My name is Philbert Deverill, manager for Puddlemore United. We met a few years ago while you were and alternate chaser for the Wimbourne Wasps, and I must say you left an impression. You may remember the firewhiskey you slipped into the punch and then promptly, though I'm sure as an accident, splashed on my favourite blue and white checkered suit. I blame the Bigonville Bombers beaters for letting the bludgers loose, of course, but we did have quite a lovely conversation on your aspirations if I remember correctly. You're a driven woman and in this game I admire such ambition.
On a more personal note, Oliver Wood always spoke fondly of you as both a player and friend. He was one of the most valuable members on our team and, as some of his closest friends, we will miss him dearly. Please know our thoughts are with you and all his other friends from Hogwarts.
This is not the only reason I have owled you. As you know, we managers tend to keep a few players in mind to strategize the future of our teams and I won't deny I've kept my eye on your career. You really turned the Stormers into a strong team this past year and I can say, reservedly of course, I was quite excited to see you left the team. I had planned correspondence much sooner but with the way things have been going, and with Oliver's passing, out attentions have diverted.
What I mean to say, in my well documented round-a-bout way, is that we would like to extend a private 'tryout' for a position with our team. There has been a bit of shuffling, one of our chasers has doubled as a quite talented alternate Keeper and we're now in need of some offensive strength. I think you could be the perfect fit. I say 'tryout' but in all honesty we're not interested in seeing other chasers at this time. At least I'm not. The captain may have a few choice words, but I'm sure you'll impress him. After all, mid-season certainly isn't the time to try and poach another chaser and some of our alternates are, shall we say, more defensive in nature. We're in need of some of that Gryffindor spirit!
The session will be this Saturday 10am sharp on the Dorset Puddlemore Pitch. The team will be there, including the alternates to give you a sporting chance to show your talent. It may be a bit much to assume you'll be there, but I have every confidence you will find room in your schedule. If not for me, whom you probably only remember the suit for (which was a lovely suit if you remember correctly which I'm sure you do), and if not for yourself perhaps in honour of Oliver. He would have loved to see it, I'm sure.
Cheers and the best of luck. We'll see you Saturday.
Sincerely and eternally hopeful,
Philbert Deverill
Manager, Puddlemore United
Folding it up Angelina felt a sudden rush of purpose. Puddlemore United? Oh Merlin, that checkered suit. The memory flashed back to her as she laughed silently, remembering Mr. Deverill. He was a plump man who looked like a bloated balloon in that suit. And an oppressive moustache to accompany it was a sight one could never dismiss. But the thought of working, on being with a team set a fire in her gut, an extra kick she'd been missing for a while. It had taken so much convincing to leave the Stormers behind and not playing was slowly killing her.
Angelina smiled brightly, setting the envelope to the side and taking another sip of her coffee.
"Whose owl's this?" The baker barked at the cafe goers but no one claimed. "Simon, get this Puddlemore pest out of here!" And it clicked. As the owl hoped to Angelina's table, dropping a beautiful envelope in navy with the teams blazoned bullrushes she put the two together.
Simon, the busboy, came rushing around the counter with his wand out. He clumsily made his way to her table as the owl squawked and with a flutter of feathers was out the shops front door as another patron entered.
"Bloddy pests." The baker said again, rolling her eyes. "No owls in my shop!"
Apologizing a few times Angelina went back to her coffee, unfolding the parchment delicately to read.
Owl Addressed to Ms. A. Johnson,
Good morning Miss Johnson,
My name is Philbert Deverill, manager for Puddlemore United. We met a few years ago while you were and alternate chaser for the Wimbourne Wasps, and I must say you left an impression. You may remember the firewhiskey you slipped into the punch and then promptly, though I'm sure as an accident, splashed on my favourite blue and white checkered suit. I blame the Bigonville Bombers beaters for letting the bludgers loose, of course, but we did have quite a lovely conversation on your aspirations if I remember correctly. You're a driven woman and in this game I admire such ambition.
On a more personal note, Oliver Wood always spoke fondly of you as both a player and friend. He was one of the most valuable members on our team and, as some of his closest friends, we will miss him dearly. Please know our thoughts are with you and all his other friends from Hogwarts.
This is not the only reason I have owled you. As you know, we managers tend to keep a few players in mind to strategize the future of our teams and I won't deny I've kept my eye on your career. You really turned the Stormers into a strong team this past year and I can say, reservedly of course, I was quite excited to see you left the team. I had planned correspondence much sooner but with the way things have been going, and with Oliver's passing, out attentions have diverted.
What I mean to say, in my well documented round-a-bout way, is that we would like to extend a private 'tryout' for a position with our team. There has been a bit of shuffling, one of our chasers has doubled as a quite talented alternate Keeper and we're now in need of some offensive strength. I think you could be the perfect fit. I say 'tryout' but in all honesty we're not interested in seeing other chasers at this time. At least I'm not. The captain may have a few choice words, but I'm sure you'll impress him. After all, mid-season certainly isn't the time to try and poach another chaser and some of our alternates are, shall we say, more defensive in nature. We're in need of some of that Gryffindor spirit!
The session will be this Saturday 10am sharp on the Dorset Puddlemore Pitch. The team will be there, including the alternates to give you a sporting chance to show your talent. It may be a bit much to assume you'll be there, but I have every confidence you will find room in your schedule. If not for me, whom you probably only remember the suit for (which was a lovely suit if you remember correctly which I'm sure you do), and if not for yourself perhaps in honour of Oliver. He would have loved to see it, I'm sure.
Cheers and the best of luck. We'll see you Saturday.
Sincerely and eternally hopeful,
Philbert Deverill
Manager, Puddlemore United
Folding it up Angelina felt a sudden rush of purpose. Puddlemore United? Oh Merlin, that checkered suit. The memory flashed back to her as she laughed silently, remembering Mr. Deverill. He was a plump man who looked like a bloated balloon in that suit. And an oppressive moustache to accompany it was a sight one could never dismiss. But the thought of working, on being with a team set a fire in her gut, an extra kick she'd been missing for a while. It had taken so much convincing to leave the Stormers behind and not playing was slowly killing her.
Angelina smiled brightly, setting the envelope to the side and taking another sip of her coffee.