While only one team can win Snow Cup, it doesn’t matter because we’re all here for Snow Ball anyway. Here’s the great thing about that: we can all win Snow Ball. Winning Snow Ball, as defined by me in a moment of drunken clarity last year, means hooking up—or getting up to whatever shenanigans you want—without it ending up on Quidsecrets for everyone to gawk and giggle over later.
As much as I love gossip, being the subject of it is absolutely mortifying. I learned this the hard way my first year at Snow Cup. Now, I want to save other Snow Ball rookies the trouble.
It’s storytime, kids.
I was still relatively new to quidditch when I went to my first Snow Ball. It wasn’t a good date. He only talked about himself, didn’t ask about me, was weirdly aggressive in a way that mildly drunk me couldn’t talk myself out of. Quite frankly, I just wasn’t into it. Snow Ball date does not equal instant hookup, but my date didn’t seem to realize that. I tried extricating myself from him during the afterparty, but he wasn’t getting the hint.
Should I have just told him to leave me alone? Sure. But I didn’t know how. I felt weirdly intimidated and decided to be evasive instead of firm. However, let me be clear about something. Consent is a clear and enthusiastic yes. Consent can be revoked at any time. I didn’t owe him anything after Snow Ball.
I repeat: Consent is a clear and enthusiastic yes. Consent can be revoked at any time. Nobody owes you anything.
I did such a good job avoiding him that I actually wound up hooking up with someone else that weekend. It was a good time, and something we both were very enthusiastic about.
Fast forward to Monday morning. I’m flying home on a red eye, hungover but otherwise pleased with the weekend. I arrive home, crash, and wake up hours later to urgent Facebook messages from friends. My consent-impaired Snow Ball date shared the story of the slut (because apparently a girl’s a slut if she sleeps with anyone but you) that ditched him in Quidditch Singles, a private quidditch group I’ve never been in.
I was absolutely mortified. I eventually got him to take it down, but I never forgot the burning shame.
Look, we all love gossip. It’s a fault in me because while you can take the girl out of the village, you can’t take the village out of the girl. However, no one likes being the subject of gossip. I’ve had people say nice things about me on Quidsecrets and I wish they could have said it to me personally so I could thank them. I’ve had people drag me on Quidsecrets and I wish they had the guts to say things without hiding behind anonymity. At least my grievances are aired in my own name. I’m (some form of) retired now, so while I expect to never see my name in that garbage fire again, I don’t want anyone to feel the public shame I felt… for something that I now realize wasn’t shameful at all.
Let’s all have fun this weekend. It can mean anything from consentual after-afterparty hijinks to falling asleep on your friend’s couch because you’re old and can’t hang.Let’s be excellent to each other, have a consentual good time (I keep saying that word because it needs to be said), and not post it to Quidsecrets or whatever after the fact. No one should look back in this weekend with regret.
We can all win Snow Ball, but we can only do it if we work together.