The British Ministry of Magic claims that magical blood is dwindling in Pureblood families. This puts some students in awkward positions. Kris Averbach finds himself being dangled like a piece of meat in front of eligible Pureblood young ladies, but...
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Calliope sat perfectly still, thirty feet up in the air, counting to sixty. She had released the golf ball she had charmed to fly around the Quidditch Pitch, and was giving it time to get some distance away from her. When she reached sixty, she swiveled on her broomstick and looked around. There was nothing in the immediate vicinity, so she began doing laps, her eyes searching, searching, always searching. In addition to being charmed to fly, she had also charmed it gold so that it would be more realistic. After a few minutes of flying up and down the pitch, she spotted a flash of gold up near one of the keeper hoops. She put on a burst of speed and raced over. The gold ball began to flit away well before she reached it, but she kept her eyes locked on it, and within moments, she was able to reach her hand out and snatch it from the air. Success.
She released it again, and began to count to sixty.
After countless more repetitions of releasing and catching the ball—there had been a particularly annoying round when she had searched for a very long time before realizing the golf ball had been floating behind her the entire time—she noticed someone was in the stands. Calliope pulled up short from her search, her heart pounding. She had thought for sure—it was so early in the morning—no one else would be awake yet. She didn't want anyone to know what she was doing.
She peered over at the person in the stands. Whoever it was waved lazily, and Calliope realized how incredibly tall he was. She grit her teeth together as she flew towards the stands.
"What are you doing?" As soon as she had reached Xander, she hopped off her broom and put her hands on her hips. Even though he was sitting, she barely stood head-to-head with him. "Why do you keep bothering me? What do you want?" she demanded.
Xander held out his hand, offering her a blueberry muffin. Calliope stared at it, nonplussed. "Breakfast is nearly over," he said.
She looked at her watch in alarm. "But I didn't feel it go off!" she cried. She'd charmed it at various intervals to vibrate quietly against her wrist to remind her of the time. It was supposed to have gone off at 6:45, which would have left her enough time to stow her broom away before other students started coming down for breakfast. Now it was over an hour later, and that meant anyone could have seen her practicing, not just Xander. Calliope looked back at him, and he proffered the muffin once more.
"Why...?" She trailed off as she took the muffin from him. Her stomach rumbled and she reluctantly ate it.
"I thought we could be friends," Xander said, standing up and stretching before lazily making his way through the stands.
"But why?" Calliope asked again, hurrying at his side to keep up with the lengthy stride of his legs. "We've been in the same classes for four years, and you never bothered with me before."
He glanced down at her, smiling. "I suppose you were just never in my view." He made binoculars with his hands and peered through them.
Her face went stony and cold as she glared up at him. "Was that a short person joke?" Her fists clenched. She gripped her broomstick so tightly that her knuckles went white.
