While Anssi enjoyed playing Quidditch, he knew he wasn’t as invested as some. He still hadn’t completely decided what he wanted to do after graduation (fortunately he had another year to figure that out) but while he wouldn’t mind continuing to play Quidditch somehow, he already knew for sure that he had no interest in making a career out of it. He also wasn’t the type of person to keep up any sort of animosity towards other players off the pitch. His competitive nature was, well, mostly nonexistent, and something he only amped up for games, otherwise quite happy to remain a pacifist.
This year he’d been named team captain for Draco, though, which was a twist he hadn’t seen coming. He’d expected for sure that Giovanni would be captain - he was both older and more loudly enthusiastic about the sport - but when he tentatively approached Coach Reid about it, the coach had firmly told him that captaincy was awarded based on a combination of game and leadership skills, and decisions were final unless he wanted to resign entirely. Luckily, Giovanni hadn’t minded, and seemed happy just claiming seniority over their other Beater Jarrett. The two were working really well together.
Today wasn’t an official game day, but still he was dressed in his Quidditch uniform, a black jersey on top with a warm woolen layer underneath. Originally Anssi thought he’d leave scrimmaging to other students with more time on their hands, but he had finished his essay for Cultural Studies early and had made a lot of progress on his Animagus work, so he had decided to join in after all.
Gloved fingers flexing against the handle of his broom - inherited from his sister, the older model Flügelweich wasn’t by any means top-shelf, but it flew reliably - Anssi hovered over the pitch with the rest of his scrimmage team, a familiar feeling of anticipation tickling through his core... or maybe that was just the coffee warming him up. Regardless, he was ready to go, and as soon as Coach Reid blew the whistle he dove and managed to snag the Quaffle. His normal style as a Chaser was to pass the ball quickly and keep the target moving, so he only carried it a short distance before identifying an opening and throwing it towards another black-jerseyed player.