if only time flew like a dove
we could watch it fly
just keep looking up

"GET UP! GET UP, ASH! UP UP UP! COME ON ASH!"
Ash groaned and rolled over, slamming down the Snooze button on her alarm clock. She'd bewitched it to yell like that until she turned it off. She was sort of regretting it, but every time she went to remove the jinx she stopped herself. She’d missed half as many classes since it started screaming. After it had shut up, she rolled over and closed her eyes again. What had she even set her alarm for today, anyway? She didn’t have any classes, and she couldn’t remember anything she might have had plans for. It must just be a glitch. Stupid fucking clock. She could’ve slept in… SHIT!

She leapt out of bed, her tiredness forgotten. She grabbed a Paramore t-shirt, a black hoodie, a pair of baggy blue jeans with pink stitching and a pair of trainers. Reaching into the back of her closet, she found her bat on one of the shelves. It was splintered and dented, but it still worked. Beater had always been her best position. Her old broomstick was lying at the bottom, and she yanked it out. It wasn’t the best broom, but it was a million times better than the crap the school let kids borrow. She shot out of the dorm, crashing through the portrait hole. The Fat Lady woke up with a start, screaming after her. Ash ignored the incensed yells, hurtling down the corridor. She pelted towards the front of the school and pushed open the front doors, tearing out onto the grounds.

She ran down to the Quidditch Pitch, vaulted the gate and mounted her broom. She was still running as she leapt onto the narrow strip of wood and took off, shooting into the air. As she whizzed around the pitch, completing lap after lap, she couldn't have been happier. She’d forgotten how good this felt. Loads of students got to practise over the holidays, but she didn’t have a hidden field or something in London. She had so missed this. She felt the wind shooting through her hair, whipping it out behind her. Which reminded her, she hadn’t brushed and straightened it today. It was probably all afro-like again. Well, she wasn’t planning on running into anyone this early.

She grinned, completing her tenth lap shooting into the middle of the pitch. She gritted her teeth and pointed the broom down, urging it faster. It fell through the air, picking up speed. Ash whooped loudly, gripping the broom tightly with both hands. She pulled upwards at the last second, her toes almost touching the ground as she levelled out and slowed down. She leapt off and raced into the storeroom, heaving out a huge wooden chest. Pushing open the lid, she saw four balls all strapped in. A huge reddish-brown one, the quaffle, a tiny, winged golden one, the snitch, and two medium-sized brown balls. The bludgers.

"Hey guys," she smiled. "Nice to see you again!" She unclipped one of them and it flew out, spinning wildly. It completed two big circles, then shot towards her. Ash laughed. She knew the damage a bludger could cause if it hit you, but she didn't really care. She'd been hurt worse, and she was confident she could dodge it. She leapt onto her broom and shot upwards, the bludger close on her tail. Once she was in the air, she pulled the nose of the broom up and held it there. It shot upwards, then upside down, then back to normal. Ash held tight and easily stayed on. She was now behind the bludger. It wasted no time in circling around and flying back towards her.

Ash weight the bat in her left hand, getting a good grip. The bludger shot towards her, headed straight for her chest. At the last moment she dodged and smashed it as hard as she could. She was skinny, but surprisingly strong for her size. There was a loud THUD as the ball and the bat connected. The bludger spun away, but missed the target she'd set for herself (through the left goal post) by a meter or two and smashed into a few nearby trees with a rustle of branches and leaves. Ash frowned, staring down at the bat. She wasn't used to missing. She hadn't been able to play over the holidays, so she must be out of practise. Well then, she'd just have to get back in practise.