So maybe Cat didn't like to play Knock-Off like Vicky did, but she was certainly a damn good flyer, especially in Nate's limited experience. It made her a really good target to practise against (and Summoning Charms to get the Bludger back when he inevitably missed), and he'd always found the challenge of trying to knock McCormack off her broom to be kind of fun, since not many other Beaters had the privilege of saying that and he might as well count it as another notch in his belt.

Or something like that. He had no clue what they were called or anything.

They were down on the Quidditch pitch late one afternoon when neither of them happened to have classes and no one else was there since it was snowing. Nate was bundled up to the gills; he hated cold weather, and being a Beater didn't exactly require any dexterity out of him beyond being able to swing his arms. Watching his breath hang in the cold afternoon air with a rather suspicious eye, he adjusted the wrists of his gloves to make sure he didn't inadvertently let any snow get inside and get his hands all wet, since that was the worst, really.

"Ready?" he asked, slinging his bat under his arm and bending to pick up his broomstick, brushing snow from the handle. "Or'd you decide you wanna do something besides target practice?"

Although she didn't have total disregard for her own safety like some, she didn't exactly do a great job of trying to ensure it either; and so, being target practice for Ulby seemed like a great idea. Certainly, she wasn't ever one to say no to an excuse to get up in the air, and she couldn't deny the opportunity to try swerving a few bludgers. After all, she had enough hit at her during matches, it came with the territory of the physical style of game she tended to play.

She wasn't as wrapped up as her companion, figuring that too many clothes would only be a bother, and that once she was up in the air she was unlikely to care about the chill anyway, or even notice it. Besides, she didn't mind the cold. So grinning widely, and looking quite mental for it given that the thing she was excited about was having heavy balls with a mind of their own hit at her, she laughed off Ulby's joke. "More ready than you'll ever be, aint like ya actually gonna hit me."

"Great," he said, grinning. He gave the box at his feet that was holding the Bludgers (and the Quaffle and the Snitch, which he didn't plan on releasing since he'd never thought about being a Seeker anyway) a solid kick; the box trembled but didn't move, testament to the thickness and security of the leather straps that held them down. "We'll see about that. I'll give you a head start, yeah? Wanna grab the Quaffle?" Bending down again he undid the strap around the Quaffle and tossed it up in Cat's direction.

When she caught it he stayed crouched in the snow, waiting for her to get off into the air so that he could release the Bludgers. It was stupid to let them go when both of them were still standing on the ground; they'd just whiz up and come flying back and Nate would have to beat them off with his bat anyway.

Catching the quaffle with a practiced ease, she wasted no time in mounting her broom and kicking off of the ground, and in a move that was quite childish she suck her tongue out at him before kicking off. Shooting into the air she wasted no time in picking up speed, and once she had she ducked into a quick barrel roll to ensure she had gotten the feel for her broom. Not, of course, that that took much at all. As was usual she felt immediately at home on the broom and was in a far more agreeable mood than she would usually be, glancing over her shoulder to see if Nate had released the bludgers yet.

He stuck his tongue out at her, as well. They were only fourteen, after all, and playing a game that, in Nate's opinion, had probably be devised either by the luckiest drunk wizards ever or kids who thought it would be a good idea to knock people from broomsticks hundreds of feet in the air. "Ready or not!" he shouted up at her, still grinning. "Watch out!" He unstrapped the Bludgers with a practised motion and sprang backwards to his feet, hand on his Beater's club just in case they decided to make an attempt on his life rather than on Cat's.

Satisfied that they would let him alone long enough for him to get into the air, Nate straddled his broomstick and kicked off the ground to fly after McCormack, ears already tingling in the cold afternoon air. Christ, he wished he was wearing a scarf; a few more minutes of this and he wouldn't be able to feel his face.

She felt the full effect of the cold air as she sped through it, ignoring her teeth as they began to chatter and impatiently willing herself to get used to it. It did not take long until her cheeks were flushed and the end of her nose too cold to feel, and she was thankful (not for the first time) for the lining in her Quidditch gloves. Enjoying the familiar rush that came from being more than fifty feet above the ground she slowed herself to a stop, allowing herself a brief moment to revel in her surroundings. If there was one place that Catriona was truly at home, it was here.

With the quaffle tucked under one arm, she drummed the fingers of her spare hand against her broom handle, slowly turning on the spot to figure out where Ulby and the bludgers were. Tipped off by the familiar whistling noise she flattened herself to her broom handle just in time, craning her neck as she did so to watch the bludger shoot past her and catapult towards her teammate instead, laughing loudly as it did.

“Heads up, Ulby!”

Nate flew just a little bit higher than Cat did, since it gave him a better view of the pitch and wherever the Bludgers might be. They hadn't bothered him yet, instead whizzing around through the air for a moment or two as if enjoying their new-found freedom; he watched them, amused at the way they seemed to be shaking off the memories of the straps that had held them in the chest where the Quidditch balls were kept, although he kept both hands on his bat for when they decided to stop frolicking and do what they were enchanted to do.

Habit almost forced him to call out a warning to Cat as the Bludger whooshed down towards her - he was supposed to be practising hitting her, not alerting her to the presence of the ball - although he did let out a whoop as she dodged, lifted the Beater's bat with a casual motion, grinning as if he wasn't about to be, essentially, batting in defence of his own life. He swung, connecting with the Bludger easily, sending it back in McCormack's general direction, although his aim could have used a little work.

"Heads up yourself, McCormack!" he called back, laughing, settling back on his broom although keeping a careful eye out for the second Bludger.