(T3 L1) Advanced Summoning and Quidditch Protocol

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The newly-appointed Flying teacher looked up at the shining sun with his hand shielding most of the bright rays from his delicate sight. It was certainly a beautiful day, one of which the Professor would make humbly a great deal of. Assigning the Qudditch pitch as the location for his introduction and today's lesson, Horatio found himself strolling casually alone to the field with enough brooms floating behind closely to supply the class; just in case any had not brought theirs for another reason.
The ex-player stood in the middle of the fair pitch, reminiscing of his younger years upon the same lush, marked greens as Ravenclaw Keeper who saved a bit more than a few goals for his house. With a smile and a shake of his head from fond memories, he keeps the brooms inside the cage he placed them into on the way to prevent any accidents from the first simple enough exercise for his students.
Putting out a particular dark and sleek one upon a stand to keep it from toppling over on it's brush, he marvels a little at the craftsmanship of his broom he had bought from the Alley and gives it a little tweak before waiting for the children to arrive in all due time in order to begin.

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As Leonardo entered the pitch he saw the new flying teacher standing next to a set of brooms. Leonardo introduced himself and proceeded by waiting for the rest of the students.

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Severine made her way to the field, her eyes half closed. She had been very tiredly recently and she didn't know why. Stifling a yawn, she waved to Leonardo and called out a greeting. "Hey," she said simply.

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The young blonde was running towards the field. Gabrielle had found herself awake an hour before the lesson started, just a bundle of nerves. "It's going to be great," She muttered, trying to convince herself, "...I think." She bit her lip and glanced around. She didn't know anyone here. She took a seat nearby, hugging her bag, and waited for class to begin.

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Peering to his pupils with a charming smirk, he nodded to the three who made their presences known, taking a quick peek to his pocket-watch and saying the time was just about right with a small wriggle of his hips in hooping motion, deciding to introduce himself all the same.
"Nice to see you Griffin, Portree's doing well, aye? Rivera, wake up a bit lass, last thing we need is an accident, and as for Miss. Aminev:" He smiled at her, seeing that the girl was emitting a rather nervous persona and possibly required some confidence boosting, "Come over here and join the rest of the group; don't be shy lass. I want every one in a straight line of ones, say about ten metres from my person, we're going to attempt a more complicated way of summoning from afar. Wouldn't be surprised if you knew this already from your Charms lessons, but 'Accio', if you were to proceed into a career of Quidditch or flying-related tasks, is near-enough your best friend in being knocked off your broom by a bludger during a match. I found this out during my early days here when I was positioned as Keeper, and for some reason couldn't recall the spell. About five goals were shot through in quick succession as I was grounded."
As the children all pottered along to their appointed places, Horatio came in front of the line, but a little to the side to demonstrate the example.
"A simple enough cast by holding your hand out towards the item of choice and with a clear voice, shout: Accio Broom!" He bellowed, his Firebolt gusting from the stand in place and the other brooms inside the cage, clatter with force to be collected by the owner of the voice. With a careful grip, he catches the flying tool and mounts upon the ground, giving a clear indication with lightning example that he wants the pupils to do a quick circuit of the ground before returning to the sidelines and sitting down upon the reserve benches.
"Any questions.. If not, we shall begin." He stands closest to the child in the middle and monitors all their actions from his position, ready to start off the lesson by lifting the brooms onto their stands from the cage with his wand, aligning them correctly with each student to save them all shooting for one at once.

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It had not been an easy morning for Penelope – but it started out nicely. She had awakened on time, dressed in her nice new wizarding robes, and pulled her curls to the side and wrapped a blue ribbon around them. There was an excitement buzzing around the first year, an eagerness to start flying lessons. Her mother had once been a Chaser for the Ravenclaw Quidditch Team, and she repeated the stories over and over in her head as she readied herself for the day. Within several minutes of leaving the Ravenclaw Tower, however, the brunette found herself lost among the moving staircases, frustratingly confused by her location. This was the third time this had happened. She wanted to find the way down herself – she had done it before – but the fear of being late and getting into trouble on the first day of class gave her motivation to ask a fifth year for directions. By the time she entered the Great Hall, she had missed the feast that was breakfast and had to jog down to the Quidditch Pitch on an empty stomach.

Once she got there, there were a few students sitting around, ready to begin class, including a boy she had seen around the Ravenclaw Common Room. She was about to raise her hand to wave briefly at the more familiar face, when the Professor began speaking. She followed directions - lining herself up and away from her classmates - and listened intently to the rest of the instructions.

With a deep breathe, Penelope stuck out her hand and cleared her throat, “Ahem . . . um, accio broom.” When nothing happened, she glanced around at the other students to see their success level before turning back. A pinprick of blush touched her cheeks. The young eagle fixed her sight on a particular broom against the racks and cleared her throat once more, speaking louder, “Accio broom!”

With a rattle and a shake of the racks, the broomstick flew towards her. With a gasp, she took a step back and caught the broom clumsily in her arms. Her eyes were wide as she glanced at the Professor.

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The Professor looked stunned as he witnessed the wooden pole zoom from it's post and shot to the girl's hand almost instantly, seeing to the other pupils that were still struggling with their commands to shout louder as his legs carried him across the field to the little one who had a familiarity about her, not being able to knock it for six.
"Very good Miss... Franklin." Ah, that was it. The surname was familiar. Not one for leaving a forgetful face or name to rot away in his mind, Horatio recalled the same surname being on his team at the same time as he was Keeper. My, how time has flown. "That was astounding. Just have a quick lap around the circuit of the stadium now and wait for the rest to finish up here and I'll announce the rest of the lesson to come up. Off you go, petal." He coerces, letting her get on her way as he watches the rest.
"Five points for Ravenclaw there for being the first one to accomplish the task set to her. Next person gets three and the one after, gets one. Come on now, get your throats going!" He cheers them on, waving his arms up in ways to signal a boost in voice.

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Severine pursed her mouth, a Ravenclaw girl she had never seen before had managed to summon her broom. She locked her eyes on a particular broom and called firmly, "Accio broom!" The broom however remained stationary.

Severine gritted her teeth in frustration, feeling her cheeks warm. Again she tried, "Accio broom!" she called loudly and to her delight, the broom sped towards her. She caught in one handed, the momentum causing her to stumble slightly. With a quick look at the professor, she slung her leg over the broom and flew around the stadium once before dismounting happily

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Sending the Ravenclaw on her way, Horatio could see the competition in a young lass by the name of Rivera. That glare of slight jealous rage, slight anger for not being there first, was too familiar an expression on the grounds of quidditch matches. Both teams eager to win, not caring if they were worse off or not, it was a fair chance that something could happen to set the scale off balance; they were determined to succeed in any form, to cheat or not to cheat.
Keeping his eyes on her past the second, forceful shriek, he saw the broom sail through the air and sit neatly into her palm, taking her aback slighty. He nods his head and pouts in a modest display of being impressed, watching her zoom past to catch up with the other care-free Ravenclaw, turning around to sigh at the rest of the line of pupils.
"Come on now! Rivera's just snagged second prize and you're all screaming like new-born babies. Clear, precise orders. Put -meaning- into it kids, you -want- this broom to come to you, you -need- it." He wiped a hand through his wild, medium-length hair, stepping back a little to keep an eye on some of the more troubled and running over to give a few hints from arm-position upon call, to tone used in the spell; getting the students to do voice exercises with him.

Nervous, Ryland spoke softly. He had seen Severine's trouble with summoning the broom, and he didn't want to go through the same problems.
"Accio Broom." His voice was shaky, and he wasn't very surprised when the broom stayed motionless. He didn't have the determination most of the other students had; he mostly just got by.
"Accio Broom." He said again, not bothering to look around anymore.
Despite his unsuccessful tries, he made his mind up to try again.
"Accio Broom." he said, although this time he saw, from the corner of his eye, Severine's success. Without his knowing, the broom suddenly came up, hitting Ryland on the head as he watched in awe how many students had already mastered the spell.
"Ow!" He exclaimed, unsure of what had just happened.

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Just leaning back up from helping one of the kids in a spot of bother, he caught a more mature-looking lad a few meters away, suddenly getting smacked in the right temple by his successfully summoned broomstick. With a sudden sprint, the dashing teacher came by his side, the boy hunched slightly and holding his head, clearly stunned.
"Marcotte, you okay?" He defies the simple nod given with a positive whimper, taking the boy's hands down for a second to inspect the collision point. "You don't cross the street without looking for horse-carts or muggle vehicles, laddie. Same applies for brooms. Just a bruise, you're lucky that it's not bleeding. Feel like going to the 'Wing to make it better?" He asked, looking a little unsure of how this young child felt about his health right now.
"In any case, you've won a point, so I'll add it later to the scores. Go and sit down if you're feeling alright, if not, I'll write you a pass and you can go with one of the other tykes to get you over to the healers safe and sound. Your call." He pats him on the shoulder and prompts him to move to the general direction of the other two girls on the sidelines. Horatio shouts to the rest of the shrieking class to halt their attempts at pulling the brooms to their grips, and asking them to sit down with their allotted brooms, along the first three to succeed the task, hoping to now get along with the rest of the lesson.

"Right, just to have a bit of fun, we're going to do a bit of cat and mouse. This will give you a brief introduction into how Chasers in Quidditch work; exactly that." From his right pocket, Horatio produces enough ribbons to lace around the sweep of the class' brooms, each handing one to every student, and asking them to bow the long, thin material tightly along the back of the brush.
"Everyone pick a point on the grounds. I want you all to make sure this is a fair and no contact game, in which everyone is a target and the hunted can easily become the hunter with a fair degree of skill. Once the ribbon has been yanked off the broom in question, it will render the object immobile and bring it slowly to the grounds once more. The last laddie or lass in the air with be held the victor and be granted thirty house points. Second is not an option here any more. Off you go." The professor gives a challenging smirk, coming to the sidelines and waiting for the children to take their wanted positions, just instructing to hover for now.
"Ready?" He calls to his class, "Three, two, one." With a blaring whistle that falls back to his chest on a string, Horatio takes his broom to the skies as well, along the width of the challenge set, making sure with an eagle eye, that injuries and accidents were to be prevented, watching the students scatter as they find solace in escape, or speed off in hopes of catching their first ribbon.

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