The tolling of the clocktower bell resonated from the castle, carrying out to all corners of the grounds. Distant, yet still pronounced, it called to the Quidditch pitch where Reginal Cross had been busying himself. Being the Flying instructor was about more than teaching excitable and rambunctious eleven-year-olds how to handle themselves on a broomstick. His new role at Hogwarts would see him taking on responsibility over refereeing Quidditch matches, as well as seeing to the maintenance of the Quidditch facilities and school-owned equipment.

To say that there was plenty to be desired was a slight understatement. The overhauling of the school's staff meant that there were, unforntunately, a few more inexperienced (or worse, displassionate) people stepping into positions that they might not be prepared to handle. Following an early start to his morning, he spent a regretable length of time explaining to the new groundskeeper how best to keep the field in the stadium; he had covered everything from the length and green of the grass to the preferred firmness of the soil. To stop himself getting frustrated, he had quickly reminded himself that replacing the seasoned hand of Rubeus Hagrid was no small feat, both figuratively and literally. Once he was sure the groundskeeper understood what needed to be done, he affirmed the hope that, with time, the new caretaker would be every bit as good as his predecessor had been.

As the clock bell chimed back at the castle, Reggie was just getting finished with his inspection of the balls. There were plenty of spare Quaffles, and he had rounded up a few stray snitches wishing he was as good a Seeker as he had been a Chaser. The Bludgers especially needed work. Ever since an incident back in 1992, the school had been religous about recasting the charms necessary to keep the heavy projectile balls from being manipulated or going rogue. Once he was sure that he had reinforced every ball appropriately, he wrestled the bludgers back into their case, with a "Son of a bitch!" as the wild things fought back, and packed everything securely in the supply room.

With the chimes sounding, signaling that it would soon be time to join his colleagues for the start of term festivities, he decided to call it a day and see to it that the school Broomsticks were in working order the next morning.

As he locked up the equipment and charmed it against unlocking spells, his thoughts drifted into a drifting reminiscing. He took a long look around at the stadium, a surreal sensation washing over him as he gazed upon what had once been his home away from home. Newly adorning the stadium were four large banner, each bearing the emblem and colors of one of the four school houses. Under the emblems were a list of years, which indicated when each house had won their respective Quidditch Cups. His eyes immediately focused on the Hufflepuff banner, where upon three years stuck out in his memories like no others. The years aligned with his 5th, 6th, and 7th years at Hogwarts. The Hufflepuff Threepeat had capped off a run of matches that Reggie remembered fondly; especially the Championship match of his 7th year that saw his Hufflepuff squad hold their opponent to a zero on the scoreboard. He had never known for sure whether his style of play and game planning had influenced any future players; a pro career outside of Britain had kept away from his old school. Now that he was here, he looked forward to seeing if anything he had done had stuck.

The surreal feeling dug deeper as he made his way across the pitch towards the exit leading back to the castle. When he thought of his own predecessor, he was surprised that he had been chosen to fill the position. Madam Hooch had been one of a few prior teachers to preside over the interview of their successors. Reggie recalled his time in school, and drawing some awkward glances from the former Flying Instructor and Quidditch Ref. While his muggle-influenced style of flying and playing had been all the rage among his peers, it had drawn some ire from staff and faculty, who, at least for a time, thought it to be rather crass and brutish, and especially aggressive for a Hufflepuff. It had, of course, been this very style that had kept him from going pro in Britain, directing him towards the Australian league.

Naturally, the tabloids back in Sydney had lost their minds over his decision to return to Britain to teach of all things; while he did his best to explain that this was by no means a retirement, he knew that they knew he was trying more to convince himself of that fact.

All thoughts of the past dissolved to the back of his mind as he crossed into the Entrance Hall. His mind shifted towards the shower he was much looking forward to, what he would wear for the start of term party, and who he would meet on staff. Thinking on it, he realized he hadn't run into any of the other teachers; that was to be expected of course, as most of the others had been tending to matters in the their respective classrooms and offices. He, on the other hand, had been out in the stadium all day. However, it was odd that not even the new Headmaster had made themselves known. Other than the young groundskeeper, Reggie had yet to become acquainted with annyone else he would ve working with.

He shrugged, and settled on that he would likely meet everyone else down at the pub later.

Reggie made haste in cleaning himself up. He decided to keep his wardrobe for the evening simple: traditional black robes with a tie bearing the Hogwarts crest worn underneath were the tried and true. He spiced up his look with a lapel pin of the Quidditch World Cup emblem. Over his robes, he put on a light, sporty, yet formal cloak that bore the colors and emblem of the Australian National Team; No sense not being recognizable, he told himself, figuring his coworkers would more easily identify him in such a standout garment... even if people found it in poor taste after the beating the Aussies had put on the Brits in the last tournament. He nodded in self-approval, and made his way swiftly from the castle and set his way down towards the village, looking forward to a bit of casual fun and socializing before term took off.