#leviosastarter

[freyaflint]

date: september 1st, 1945

location: leaving the Great Hall

availability: House Points Thread w/ @odinclearwater

The conversation with Professor Swindlehopper had been interesting to say the least. Of course, not too much information was garnered from the brief meeting, but it was always pleasant to meet Hufflepuff alumni. For her, it was a reminder that the future was rapidly approaching. It was nerve-wrecking and exhilarating all at once, but she had been waiting for this moment her entire life- the chance to finally make use of her passions and knowledge. 

Following Odin out of the Great Hall, she falls back allowing him to take the lead. It was strange to think that within just a mere year all the people she had come to call her housemates (or really family) would all be going their separate ways. Professor Dippet’s speech had made one thing clear: nothing is certain. 

Then again, perhaps there was one thing that would always remain the same: Freya’s love of QUIDDITCH. “So, are you looking forward to our final Quidditch season?” Freya asks, the conversation topic almost bizarrely light given the gravity of everything Dippet had announced. She needed think about Dumbledore and Grindlewald later, to gather her thoughts privately, before talking about it out loud, “I have a feeling it’ll be a good season for us.”

[freyaflint]

date: september 3rd, 1945

location: misc. classroom

availability: closed to @apcllogriffin

She’s early to class and though Freya wishes she could say it wasn’t a rarity, she tended to err on the side of just barely punctual or “right on time” as Professor Slughorn enjoyed saying with a wink as she slid behind her cauldron with just a few seconds to spare. (She heavily doubts he would have been nearly as easy-going had he not been such a fan of her father’s). Truth be told, she often left her initial location on time, but when it came down to it, who was she to turn down a brief conversation in the halls to catch up with a peer or professor? To spend a couple extra minutes pouring over “Current Events” section of the Daily Prophet outside the classroom? 

The one bonus of arriving early, Freya notes, is that she had her fair pickings of seat location. As N.E.W.T-level classes began, class sizes began to shrink, as did the choices for seating partners. Scanning the room, Freya spots a handful of familiar faces, many of those that she recognized from her sixth year. Her eyes first fall on a small group of Slytherins who she instantly decides she’ll be spending the year avoiding at any cost, lest they begin their pestering about Tom Riddle’s glorious agenda and vision for the Wizarding word and why she’s yet to become more involved in the cause.

On the other side of the room, Freya spots a far friendly face-- Apollo Griffin sitting in all his crimson and gold glory. The man is perhaps far better friends with Kassius, but they’ve come to know one another on the Quidditch pitch, as keepers and chasers often did.

“May I sit here?” Freya asks as she tentatively sets down a single book on the table beside him, “I’d really rather not end up over there...” she admits quickly glancing back over her shoulder before turning her attention back to Apollo, “I also happen to come with a peace offering of a Chocolate Wand for first class jitters?” she offers earnestly, procuring a pair of wands from the front pouch of her book bag.

[freyaflint]

date: september 8st, 1945

location: outside Professor Brown’s classroom

availability: open to all!

“Slytherin vs. Hufflepuff-- it’s bound to be a good game...” Freya muses to the person beside her as she stands in front of Professor Brown’s classroom examining the two banners for herself. Supposedly the second banner had just revealed itself out of the blue after the initial crowd had disappeared. Nonetheless, it was always exciting to play the first game of the season, though Freya would be lying if she said she wasn’t at least a little nervous-- there was always more to these games than just points and scores, an underlying current of something deeper, more meaningful. (Not to mention the last thing she needed was Icarus Lestrange lording a first win over her all year.)

“At least I finally know who Hufflepuff is playing against-- I swear Professor Brown loves to keep us in suspense like that...” she says with the shake of her head-- that man certainly had a flair for the dramatics. Living with her own former professional quidditch player, she had come to realize that nearly all of them shared a love for the bravado of sport.