Saturday morning Emery had woken up at dawn, suddenly remembering it was her first game of Quidditch in a long time.

She had written to her father the day prior, and from his response, Emery could tell that he was elated.

The motivation to do well in the game was all fueled by her father, and Emery was determined to do her best, even if Ravenclaw would not win.

Unable to eat breakfast, due to her anxiety, she dressed into her quidditch gear, and waited at the pitch. 

She was to use Chester's broomstick, which happened to be a pretty decent model, a Cleensweep three. It wasn't the best broom on the market, but it was still good enough to show her skill.

It was twenty minutes before the game. Her players hadn't arrived yet, and the stands were still empty. Most people came to watch the game after it had begun.

It didn't make her feel any better.

She went back into the changing rooms, then came out, still waiting impatiently for her team. Deciding she'd had enough, she was leaving the changing room when she bumped into a very tall person.

"Sorry," she muttered. "Wasn't looking where I was going."

She didn't look up, but she knew the person was smirking. "That's exactly where you went wrong, darling," he said cheerfully. "Not looking where you're going."

The voice was so familiar that Emery nearly fainted. Instead, her broom clattered to the ground.

"Papa?"

"Yes, darling, how may I help you?" He said it so casually, as if it were not much of a big deal.

"PAPA!" Emery squealed, throwing herself into his arms. 

Mr. Fowl lifted her up, and hugged her tight, kissing her hair. "Now that's more of a welcome," he said smiling. 

"What- what're you doing here?" blurted Emery. "Aren't you supposed to be at home? And Mama... She's- She's all alone.."

"Calm down, darling, your mother's here. Did you think we'd miss your first game?" he asked with a smile, his eyes twinkling.

Emery suddenly felt a rush of gratitude. She had the support of her parents. Part of her was nervous that she would make a fool out of herself, but she was still grateful that they were here.

"Where's Mama?" she asked, craning her head and looking around.

"She's talking with Professor McGonagall," he told her. 

"Oh."

"I have something for you, Fox," he grinned. 

Emery looked up sharply. "What is it?" she asked, her curiosity sparking.

He reached into his pocket, taking out something so tiny, that it was enclosed in his palm. 

"What is it?" Emery asked, trying to see what his fist enclosed.

Artemis opened his hand, then pointed his wand at the object.

It suddenly grew big, expanding in size.

Emery's eyes widened.

It was a broomstick.

Not just any old broomstick. The fastest model of its kind, even to this date. This was her father's legendary broom stick, the one he rode when he won the Quidditch world cup. It was easily recognized. This broomstick was worth millions of galleons.

 And it was in Emery's hands.

"Papa..." she croaked. "This- this is too much."

He ruffled her hair. "Keep it," he grinned. Then, kissing her cheeks, he walked away, leaving Emery awestruck as she stared at the million-galleon broomstick in her hands.

"Holy mother of Merlin and Merlin's great grandma's aunt," she gasped.

"WELCOME TO THE FINAL OF THE QUIDDITCH HOUSE CUP!" the speaker boomed, announcing the start of the game to the audience.

Emery felt a wrench in her gut, as her stomach churned with nervousness.

She located her father in the stands, who was sitting beside her mother, smiling and waving at Emery while his other hand was wrapped around her mother's shoulder.

She waved and smiled, and then mounted her broom.

"TODAY'S GAME, THE FINALS, THE GAME THAT WILL DECLARE THE WINNER!"

Cheers sounded throughout the stands.

"RAVENCLAW VERSUS GRYFFINDOR!"

Boos and applauds were given out at this statement, the crowd driven mad with suspense.

"On the Gryffindor team, we have Potter, Prewett, Weasley, Black, Hunter, Finnegan, aaaaaaand McKinnon," the commentator announced, met with cheers from the Gryffindor end.

"Ravenclaw suffered a bit of a mishap," began the commentator.

Emery noticed that Mr. Fowl had stood up, shouting profanities at the commentator. "MISHAP?" he questioned. "MORE LIKE BLESSING! MY FOX IS TWICE AS GOOD AS THAT..." 

Emery buried her face in her hands in embarrassment as people turned to look at her. 

Papa please don't do this.

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat loudly. Out of the corner of her eye, Emery could see her mother pulling her father down to sit, scolding him. 

Suddenly, they were gasps as they still stared at Emery. 

"HOLY MERLIN!" yelled the commentator. "EMERY FOWL IS USING THE ORIGINAL IGNESCENT!" 

The Ignescent was the name given to her father's broom, for it's speed, and the amount of times Artemis won a game while riding it.

Gasps were heard. "The Ignescent?"

"It's The Ignescent!" someone else echoed.

"ALRIGHT THAT'S IT!" shouted Emery from the pitch. "YES I AM USING THE IGNESCENT, BIG DEAL! NOW CAN WE GET ON WITH THE GAME?"

Some people laughed.

Then, the horn sounded.

And the game begun.

Emery zoomed upwards on her broom, the wind billowing through her hair. She suddenly felt light, and free, and was more determined than ever to catch the snitch.

Her father's broom was brilliant; it turned at the slightest indication, and was a smooth and secure ride, nowhere as jerky as the other broomsticks.

She flew to the top, searching for any sign of the snitch.

'It's Potter with the Quaffle, thrown to Weasley, Ravenclaw shoots a bludger at him... and misses. "Potter in possession, aaaand.... HE SCORES!"

The crowd went wild.

"It's ten-nil to Gryffindor, and quaffle's back with Potter..."

Emery groaned. She knew they didn't have a chance winning, Especially since Chester was gone. Chester was a brilliant keeper. Now they'd only manage to block half the goals.

She flew to the left, avoiding a bludger that found its way to her, then swerved down to the bottom, keeping an eye on Marlene McKinnon, who happened to be the Gryffindor seeker.

Twenty minutes into the game, and the scores were fifty-ten to Gryffindor. Ravenclaw was forty points behind.

Emery had to find the snitch quick and end the game.

"Raveclaw in possession, back to Gryffindor, Black aims a bludger at Ravenclaw keeper, quaffle back with Ravenclaw, annnnndd... THEY SCORE!"

"Yes!" Emery cheered.

Half an hour into the game, Gryffindor at one hundred and eighty, Ravenclaw at fifty. They were losing horribly.

Her last hope was to catch the snitch.

And then she saw it.

A golden glint, right below the Gryffindor Keeper's foot.

Suddenly zooming forwards, she lifted her hand, moving to catch it. 

"FOWL HAS SPOTTED THE SNITCH, MCKINNON AT HER TAIL!"

The crowd was waiting in anticipation.

Emery gritted her teeth, dodging another bludger.

She flew faster, leaning her broom forwards. It tipped to the front. She stood up, balancing on her broom as adrenaline pulsed through her veins.

And she felt the cool metal in her palm.

She caught it.

The crowd went  unrestrained as they cheered, booed, and shouted.

"RAVENCLAW WINS!"

The players ferociously cheered on Emery, as she landed on the ground, the snitch in her hand.

Flashes of cameras went of, photographs were taken. Emery was hoisted up onto the shoulders of her teammates, whose eyes were all wet with tears.

Her father's broom in one hand, the snitch in the other, she raised her hand to the sky, showing the stands she'd caught the snitch.

She had done it, she had done the impossible.

She had won the game.