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Eliora was excited. She had never seen a live Quidditch match before, and she was glad that Slytherin would be playing first. And against Hufflepuff, no less! Wasn't the howler girl in Hufflepuff? Eliora smirked. She hoped she played Quidditch. Eliora wasn't stupid, and Ronyo, who Eli had found out was Dom's Quidditch captain, was had been nervous about Dominic's temper. She had listened around and heard whispers of how cruel Dom could be when he played, how intense. He had a streak last year and it seemed like it worked out because Slytherin seemed to win. A lot. She couldn't wait to see him play.

Eliora wished that she wasn't so bad at flying. She might have had fun playing this game... but not everyone is good at everything, and flying just was not in the stars, it seemed, for little Eliora Blake. This suited her just fine... Perhaps she would become an animagus. Gods knew she wasn't a Seer... That skipped a couple generations, and her Grandma had been one. So while Greatness seemed the destiny for whatever children she may have, Eliora would have to fight for it.

Eli's heart fluttered as several players walked out onto the field. Would the game start soon?.. she wondered, as she watched, keeping an eye out for Dominic.

How did we get here? When I used to know you so well?



Marina settled into a seat near the top of the stands. It was a nice day and fairly warm out, so she was wearing a dress for once and flats. She'd managed to wrestle her curls into submission, and had clipped her red locks back so they wouldn't blow around in the breeze. Last year she had only come to one game; she hated flying so what was the point in enviously watching other people who excelled at something she did not? Unfortunately, she'd made the mistake of mentioning this to her parents. Her father had been outraged, he'd been a Hufflepuff beater and was still in denial about Marina's poor flying skills, despite watching her fall off of brooms repeatedly when he attempted to teach her. Marina had thought he would get the message the last time he'd tried to teach her, and she'd fallen 60 feet: crashing through the branches of the tree she'd been above, and broken an arm, a leg, several ribs, and her collarbone. Yes, good times. She still had a scar from that, a thin jagged white line that went from the left side of her neck all the way to her shoulder. Marina usually covered it with makeup; she felt like she was falling again every time she looked at it. Her mother had encouraged her to go be 'social' and go. Everyone else did, anyway. So here she was, bored out of her mind. Good thing she'd brought a book. An old, tattered copy of J.R.R. Tolkien's The Hobbit was in presently in her lap, and she let herself get lost in the world of Middle Earth. Wizards rode sensible things there, like eagles. Not brooms.

Love interest: No One