Estella liked being a Beater.
She didn't really have the frame or the strength for it, but she got to carry a bat and how fun was that.
Archibald had retreated into her robes seconds after the match had started when she'd first swung her bat and nearly hit herself in the shoulder which would have knocked the tiny chameleon to his death, probably.
The short bat was very top heavy and she hadn't had enough practise at this position to be have a good grasp on just how heavy it was. She had tried swinging upward and the bat had basically just dropped back down toward the shoulder of the arm she was holding it with.
She'd tried apologising to her sidekick but it didn't do any good. Estella swore she saw him stick his tongue out at her before disappearing into the collar of her Quidditch robes.
Her attempts at swinging the bat hadn't improved much over the course of the match. Her arm wasn't getting used the weight of the bat, in fact it was beginning to feel as heavy as the bat the more she tried swinging it.