It was the rush of quaffles and bludgers through the air that Edgar was gleefully floating onto the pitch. He may have unintentionally floated through a student or two on his way, but adorned in his usual quidditch attire, Edgar Cloggs was never one to miss anything quidditch related and demanded a front row spectatorship.

Well he didn't really need to demand anything being a ghost. "What a marvelous afternoon it is!! Oh it's snowing!! How delightful!" Not that he could he could feel it. His sense of feeling had been gone over two centuries, but he was able to witness it through sight.

Floating up through a student or two on broomsticks, he stopped only once at a good vantage point for all the happenings. Befuddled a moment by seeing all the houses in the air, he realized this wasn't a match. His focus on the girl who just went barreling towards the ground like the falling snow. At least the snow offered a cushion for the falls which he had to admit was rightly clever of Adara. Nature's ice pack. Still - falling in front of one's peers was never a good thing as he recalled his own demise so many years ago.