DATE : 10 september 1944 LOCATION : the corridors TIME : 9:00 am STATUS : open
Normalcy, how quickly it found them, sweeping away their long-dried tears and dusting fear, remembrance of carnage from their shoulders where it had become burden. Abandoning terror as one did so drop a cloak from one’s back --- with ease, they adopted excitement instead, preoccupied themselves with those insignificant things which had once been marvel to them. First and foremost, in its season, this was Quidditch. Competition nurtured their ignorance, allowed them worriment over simple things: clever pin designs and banners, strategy and freshly marketed broomsticks as opposed to propaganda spilt from their bedside radios.
Fittingly, an Abbott occupied herself just the same, fastening Gryffindor pins to her chest and tying Hufflepuff gold at her neck, allowing talk of the upcoming match to occupy her time --- of the inevitable Gryffindor victory, naturally. Of course she’d never wave a green and silvered banner, wouldn’t mar her robes with a serpent’s sigil; not for so little as some people trusted in her alliances, for all the torment which had been had from the Slytherin house.
As such, it could surely not have been an Avery or Mulciber pinned at her chest, but radiant Yaxley --- holding fast to her robes as he waved broomstick confidently through the air, a grin sat lop-sided at his lips. The Gryffindor emblem flashed as well when sight of its team captain faded, infamous lion roaring at the crest’s center before the images looped once again.
“Nifty, huh? Thought I’d show my support for the upcoming match and all,” she remarked when she caught someone taking notice of her pin, pulling at the badge so as to better display it, as though it were mark of honor. Perhaps, in her case, it was.