One word -- with capital words. Daniel 'LOVED' Qudditch, it was his favorite sport. He had loved it ever since her was just mere child of five. He could remember flying happily around his house one time with his little, baby broomstick his father had brought him. He had grown to love Qudditch with a passion, in fact he wanted to be a professional Qudditch player one day and be one of the best. He had practice Qudditch almost all his life, from childhood to a sixteen years old teenager.
It was early in the morning, just about six o'clock. The sky was dark with a hint of light shining through the sky. The wind was cold and windy, it was a chilly morning. Trees dripped of morning dew, birds chirped happily as they slowly woke up. Daniel walked into the Qudditch Field, his broomstick resting flatly on his shoulder. In his hand he held at broken, stitched up football he brought from home, because he knew he couldn't take the real ball from the locker. Even if he asked, they wouldn't let him anyway.
He needed to practice for the Qudditch try out next week in order to impress Jack to get into the team. He just wore a plain v-neck shirt, a jacket and a beanie just to keep him warm while he was up there. Daniel found a spot to sit and walked over to place his bag down on the bench with all his gears and everything. He looked around for a bit and took a small sip of his bottle to get some energy before he got up there. "Up!" he murmured hovering his hand on top of his broomstick which flew through his hand. He smiled as he did, it saved him a few second of picking it up. After that, he started mounting his broomstick, getting a good grip of his broom as he held onto his handy football and started flying through the air, towards the goal post. He was ready.