What if Hermione played Bowls for the under31s?

“Just another yard, Mione.”

Hermione wrinkled her nose, but nodded and didn’t say a word. Her Skip, after all, was the only person who could get away with shortening her name.

Her opposing number, a girl from Surry, was on and off of the mat in less than two minutes, putting another wood in a head that was looking more and more like a minefield with every wood that went down.

“Where’s the jack?” Hermione asked, glancing at the scoreboards and tallying up that they were just one shot up on the game, before she stepped on the mat again.

Her Skip pointed it out, having wondered if the small yellow ball was visible from the other end considering there were at least two woods sat in front of it. “Just behind this one, you just need to tap it and we’ll have four.”

‘So no pressure.’ Hermione thought ruefully before delivering the wood.

It was heavier this time, certainly, but Hermione felt the ball slip out of her hand before she was ready to let it go, and as such had to watch the wood race down the green, too tight, and crash into completely the wrong wood, giving the opponent two shots.

Considering that this was the final end, this wasn’t a good thing.

“Sorry Evie.” Hermione apologised as she joined her team mates at the other end of the green, feeling thoroughly annoyed with herself.

The black haired woman shrugged, “It happens.”

Hermione watched the opposing Skip put one in the cluster of woods they’d been trying to knock the jack into, causing Evie to frown.

Hermione considered the head. It wouldn’t be easy, but they could still win this. “I have a suggestion.” She spoke up, before Evie could make up her mind.

“Go on.” The twenty two year old gestured, having already considered the way she’d brought Hermione in and discarded the idea and wondering if her number three had seen a different route in.

“If you play onto this one.” Hermione pointed at one of the woods in front and to the left of the jack, “It’ll go this way,” She gestured down and to the left, “And take the jack.”

Evie blinked, stood at Hermione’s side, saw exactly what she getting at, nodded and went up the other end, standing on the mat to play the first of her final two woods.

The woman shook her head as the wood left her hand and Hermione had to agree as the wood went straight past the head and went in the ditch.

“It’s alright, Evie, next time.” Hermione called up to the woman who’d been the backbone of the squad right up until now.

She just waved it off as her opposing number, assuming that she’d try the same thing that she’d been trying to get Hermione to do, put a blocker in that would have been a real pain if that had been what Evie was trying to do.

“This time Evie.” Hermione called up to her Skip, offering what little support she could.

As if her call was a signal, the supporters, the other team members, who had finished their game just minutes ago, and Loraine, the team manager, all offered their support.

Then Evie stepped on the mat and silence fell.

She bowled.

“Hold.” Hermione squeaked as she suddenly realised where the wood was headed, “Hold! HOLD!”

The weight Evie put behind the wood made it hold the line and it clipped the target wood as it went by, sending it crashing into the jack and taking it back to give Oxfordshire two shots.

Evie, who had chased her wood down the green, was glomped by her ecstatic team as the crowd that had escorted the Oxfordshire girls to Lemington Spa went mental.

They were going through to the quarter finals of the Amy Rose competition for the first time since before Hermione had joined the squad three years ago.

Once the completely undignified squealing was over, the much more dignified shaking of hands took place, and once that was over, the Oxfordshire squad left the green to have lunch and get ready for the next round.

“Well done.” Gillian hugged her daughter the moment she stepped off the green, “You played well.”

Hermione shook her head as she sat down and accepted her sandwiches, “Not on that last end.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Alice, a blonde thirteen year old who had been playing Lead on the other rink and had watched the other rink as often as she could, said, “You had a good game other than a couple of unlucky touches, you’ll do great this afternoon.”

“You played well too.” Hermione replied, having caught a few of Alice’s woods, but certainly not all of them, having been rather focused on her own rink.

Alice snorted, watching Laura, her brunette, eighteen year old, Skip, wander off to go buy food from the cafe. “If I’m not subbed out, I’ll be surprised.”

Gillian watched Loraine talking to Evie and Emma, the girl who had been playing number two on Hermione’s rink. “I doubt it. You were having a fantastic game up until the last few ends.”

Alice just shrugged, pausing to take a bite out of her sandwich before asking, “How’s the boarding school going?”

Hermione froze for a moment, before relaxing as completely as she could. She’d joined the Oxfordshire squad a couple of months after her tenth birthday, so she’d had an entire year between then and starting at Hogwarts.

If anything she was surprised that she was playing so well after spending the greater majority of the last term of school petrified.

“Not bad.” She answered calmly, “Had a bit of an incident with a pet snake, but other than that it’s not been bad.”

“Pet snake? Who had a pet snake?” June, always one for a bit of gossip, sat down next to them, “I thought that you said that only cats and mice were allowed.”

“One of the boys from the green house decided he wanted to bring a snake to school and scare everyone. One of my friends chased it off.”

“Which one, the cute black haired one or the red headed idiot one?”

“Harry.” Hermione objected to calling either of her friends cute, the cute part had been added by the others on her team, who had decided he was cute from her description of him. “And Ron helped.” She objected to calling Ron an idiot unless it was to his face, but a slip of the tongue last Christmas, when she’d come home to see her parents and gone to a match while she was home, had firmly labelled the youngest Weasley boy as an idiot.

Mind her squad knew as much as they were allowed to know about her friends from Hogwarts, but there was no way she was ever going to tell Harry or Ron about the Oxfordshire girls. Not if she ever wanted to live it down.

“The cute one.” June nodded, flicking a few stray red hairs over her shoulder. “You should bring them to a game. It would be nice to meet these guys you’re always going on about.”