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TO VALERIE GRINDELWALD, a thoughtless decision was a faulty decision. The girl never abandoned her sense or logic, but desperate times called for desperate measure. Maybe it was the adrenaline, or the simple persuasion of a friend, that drove her to saunter over to Marcus Flint and dauntlessly ask his offer from last year still stood. But, when he nodded and kicked Lucian Bole off the team without any hesitation, she finally remembered why she never acted on impulse.
"This was a mistake," Valerie groaned, staring into Millicent Bulstrode's full-size mirror. She grimaced at the green and silver Quidditch robes that hung loosely around her figure.
"I agree. You don't even how to play," Pansy snickered, muttering something along the lines of how her attire resembled that of a Christmas stocking.
"I think it's fascinating," Tracey mused, her eyes never leaving the pages of her book. They all turned to her, as the girl rarely ever chimed in on a conversation. Valerie wondered what exactly she was referring to, if she was commenting on the situation or what lied inside the chapter she read. Tracey Davis was a puzzling one.
Valerie strapped on her shin and arm guards, trying to take her mind off things, "Are any of you planning to try out in the future?"
Pansy and Millicent exchanged looks, before bursting out into high-pitched laughter.
"We like watching the players," Millicent told her, "But the game itself is so... filthy."
"My parents say a proper lady should focus on the important things; studies, and of course, her appearance," Pansy agreed, pushing Valerie aside to look at herself in the mirror.
"That's rubbish!" the usually soft spoken Daphne Greengrass snapped, before realising what she had said. Pansy and Millicent crossed their arms, while Valerie sent her a small smile.
Daphne looked down, fidgeting with her fingers, "I-I just mean it's incredibly prejudiced. Intelligence shouldn't be labelled. What gives anyone the right to say what makes a proper lady?"
Valerie grinned as the other two rolled their eyes, going back to gossiping about some pudgy Hufflepuff who had slipped on his way to class. The Grindelwald girl tied her shoulder-length hair into a ponytail, before reaching for the door. Before leaving, she turned to Daphne, "You'e alright, Greengrass."
Making her way down the dimly-lit halls, Valerie eventually walked into their Common Room, where the team was already in huddle.
"Grindelwald!" Marcus Flint called, before quickly tossing her a lofty, narrow package. Valerie caught it with surprise, unwrapping it curiously. Inside was an ebony-wooden broomstick, its surface unscathed and its tail neatly polished. It was a Nimbus 2001, a newest and frankly most expensive model to date.
