Lesson Two - First Years

[Viktoria Steinburg]

Viktoria trudged out onto the Quidditch feilds, they were not as big as she would have liked them to be but they were regulation so what more could she ask for? Smiling lightly as pulled the brooms behind her, making sure that they were all firmly fixed onto their mounts.

After all it had taken a lot of time to get the Doctor to stop talking about time travel to actuallt get onto the subject of brooms. And actually making him buy them was another thing.

Finally she reached the center of the pitch and sighed softly, waiting for her students to show up she sat down on the grass, and closed her eyes, hoping that even though she was young she would be accepted as a teacher.

[Erik Herrmann]

Erik hurried across the grounds towards the quidditch pitch. He had signed up for flying lessons, not actually needing them. He had been taught to fly two years prior and absolutely loved it. This class would not only be an easy pass but let him get on a broom. Much better then any other class offered!

Entering the quidditch pitch, Erik saw the flying instructor sitting in the grass near the brooms. "Hello, Lehrer," Erik greeted as he bent down to examine the provided brooms.

[Yeva Sergeiovna Glazgova]

Yeva walked eagerly to the fields, she was terribly excited, and after Potions class she needed something to look forward to. Her brother Fadir was rich, in her eyes. In truth he was of moderate means, but he was the only one in her family who could afford a broom. It was lovely, ebony with cherry inlay and burnished red straw, Yeva had never once been allowed to touch it. She loved all her brothers, but liked Fedir least with his haughty attitude, flaunting his money before their parents. Having a Muggle job however, despite his prejudices rarely even used it and only let others ride it when he wanted to brag. How the pretty witch Olga could ever find him attractive was beyond her.

Yeva shook her, head. She shouldn’t let Fedir be getting her down, today was a good day, sort of. Today she would fly! Heading towards the center of the pitch she tripped and stumbled over a rough patch of turf. Catching herself she, slightly embraced, walked quickly on. She soon came upon a woman who looked rather young, the age of her brothers Ilari or Dmitry perhaps, a boy stooped looking at something on the ground with interest. She slowed her approached as she, grew suddenly concerned that she was in the wrong area.

“Здравствуйте,” she paused they spoke little else but Russian in her home and it was natural for her to greet people in such a manner. “Guten Tag, hello.” She corrected herself sounding rather forced. Other than playing with other children and market days she encountered the language very little. “My name is Yeva Sergeiovna Glazgova, how are you?” she asked remembering what her mother had told her about politeness. She however, fearing a blunder in the time and place for her class blurted. “Is this the flying class?”

[Agne Bartkus]

Running towards them Agne called out, "I'm sorry I'm late, I'm sorry I'm late." Absolutly sure that she was. Today had been a rough day for Agne, she'd been late to her first two classes, both on the account of having lost herself amongst the halls. Because of that she'd also done a lot of crying, something she hardly ever did and her eyes were red and sore, she blinked them furiously. Once she came upon them she looked down at the terribly young instructor and saw her seated on the ground. Maybe she fell off, Agne thought turning her gaze skyward.

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