Avalon had never seen this many people before in her life.
A full stadium at Hogwarts meant, at the very most, three hundred people. Maybe four hundred on the last game of each season, when parents and alumnae came to watch.
But the Holyhead Harpies' stadium fit ten times that amount, and the sheer amount of people in the stands was going to give her a heart attack.
She had woken up that morning at the ass-crack of dawn to run drills with the head coach, who had, for the twenty third day in a row, pushed her to her breaking point, yelling about how she wasn't as good as she was rumored to me.
In her fifteen years of playing quidditch, she had never been yelled at this much by a captain or coach. Not even her Aunt Ginny had been this hard on her while teaching her the sport itself.
She had only been dismissed from training when she had caught a golf ball—not a Snitch, but a literal golf ball—several dozen times, when the coach had decided that that was enough.
Avalon hit the showers after running drills, and the water was frigid, but it did well to cool off her heated, sweaty, sticky skin.
She'd had to consistently remind herself that she was given the opportunity she had only dreamed about. She had never thought that this could be a possibility, playing on her favorite quidditch team of all time. She loved that this was her life now, not just a pipe dream that everyone said was unrealistic. But the pain Coach Jones had put her through over the past few weeks was so hard on her, mentally and physically.
She just had to make it to the first match. Then she could prove herself, and make Jones realize that she was meant to be here.
So as she stood in the narrow tunnel under the stands, waiting for them to announce her name, she reminded herself that this was what she was destined to do.
Her brothers and sister were meant for greatness, that was something she was sure of. But this, this moment right here, where she was shaking with anticipation and excitement, was her greatness.
"Introducing, for the first time, our Seeker, Avalon Weasley!"
That's my cue, she thought, gripping her broom with one hand and flying out of the tunnel.
The cheers from the stands were deafening, and she felt like she might burst into tears at the sound.
She was used to an excited crowd because of her time at Hogwarts, but this many people were excited about her. Not just her house, not just her family. But thousands of people.
Other than when she was with Teddy, this was the first time in her life that she felt like people saw her as her, not as Amelia and Fred Weasley's daughter or Arthur, Isabel, and Oliver's sister. She was her own person instead of someone's daughter, someone's twin, someone's sister. Seventeen years of joint birthday parties had led up to the overwhelming joy she felt at being recognized.
For a few moments, as the match began and she saw how fast-paced and hardcore it was, Avalon resented Gwenog Jones for not letting her practice with the rest of the team. Gryffindor quidditch could not compare to this. Not in the slightest.
It didn't help that the opposing team's seeker was at least ten years older than she was, with probably ten times the experience.
At least Avalon was smaller and faster. She had to repeat that over and over again to herself in order to not panic.
She watched her Aunt Ginny fly around the stadium, going wherever the Quaffle went and passing it expertly between her teammates.
The match was so intriguing to watch, coming from someone who had played the equivilant of what the muggles would call 'high school sports', and while she had seen dozens of professional matches in her life, being a part of one was a whole different thing entirely.
And she realized, as a Bludger came so close to hitting her that she felt a spike of fear shoot through her, that it wasn't one of her cousins or friends trying to mess with her. No, these were professional players who, for all she knew, could be out for blood and trying to genuinely incapacitate, or even harm her.
She dodged it, and it narrowly missed her.
Avalon's heart was racing, and she used the adrenaline coursing through her veins to her advantage. Her normally terrible eyesight sharpened, and suddenly everything was so much sharper.
In the distance, just above the opposing team's goalpost, was a shining golden sphere, smaller than her fist.
Moments later, after shooting across the pitch, the Snitch was in her hand.
And a Bludger was slamming into that same hand. She felt the bones shatter like glass.
She was screaming.
oopsies