LYOVA RASMUSSEN - A Durmstrang Quidditch Captain.

Chapter 1 - BEHAVE

NOTE: Welcome to this book! Let's follow Lyova and her quidditch team to a year in Hogwarts. Full of competition, action, friendship and maybe even more? Don't forget to vote if you enjoy it. Attention: Slow Burning romance ahead *cough*. If you have any criticism or thoughts, reach me in the comment section. I would really appreciate it.

You can see Lyova and her team on the book cover. Please DO NOT COPY the drawing as it was made for precisely this book.

ENJOY!

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Lyova stood in her room and looked at her belongings, packed in heavy leathern trunks. She frowned. Something was missing, and she knew it. The trunks laid in front of her open filled with clothes, school equipment, personal things and her quidditch uniform.

Usually, it wasn't that much she had to pack for the school year. In Durmstrang, everybody had their room, and most wizards and witches equipped themselves to a level where they did not need to bring any clothes or books. At least the ones who could afford it.

However, since Headmaster Karkaroff had informed her parents that she and a few more Durmstrang students would directly travel to Hogwarts at the beginning of the new school year, her mother had spent every minute talking about nothing else and buying everything she thought, Lyova needed.

"I hope that the school is not as bad as I was told."

The voice of her mother got louder as she approached Lyovas room with quick steps. The heels of her shoes clicked against the dark wooden floor.

"The only thought about you spending your last schoolyear in this 'institution'." Her mother inhaled through her nose and curtly closed her eyes.

She now stood in the doorframe. Lyova turned around and looked at the woman. Irina Rasmussen opened her eyes and let her gaze quickly wander through the room until it fell on her daughter. Her lips turned into a scowl.

"Look at your hair, Lyova. It looks like a doxy lives in it." She pulled out her wand and pointed it towards Lyovas head. With a swift flick, the strands of hair that had fallen from her bun again laid flat.

"Rotan," she commanded. Out of thin air, a house elve appeared next to her mother. The old, wrinkly creature curtly bowed. A few old rags were knotted over his boney shoulders.

"The school uniform?" Her mother asked without looking down.

"Yes, mistress." The elve snapped with his long fingers, and a pile of clothes appeared on Lyovas nightstand.

Lyova walked over and started unfolding the familiar, red uniform, feeling the stiff fabric between her fingers.

"Be careful there. I talked to Mallory last week, and she told me about how they educate there. Divination, Lyova. What a waste of time."

"Who's Mallory, again?" Lyova hummed absentminded. She had proceeded to rummage in her trunks, checking for something missing.

"Mallory Flint. You know the Flints. You used to play with Markus when you were young." Her mothers' voice held an irritated undertone as she came closer.

"I don't need to remind you on how important it is to make a good impression. Many children of good friends visit this institution, and we don't want them to talk bad about us, do we?"

"Ah yes, the Flints." Lyova interrupted her mother, trying to ease the situation. She raised her quidditch jersey to look for her gloves.

"Rotan, you know where I put my gloves?" she addressed the elve.