Kallista Zenia Emrys is born in the world of high society pure bloods. Being one of the last remaining descendants of Merlin- the Greatest Wizard of all time- she finds herself being weighed down by the extremely high expectations that her name give...
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I stood with about twenty of my male housemates from all higher years at the pitch. They were all bigger than me and more muscular.
I was the only girl that came for tryouts and the youngest in the group. Girls from Slytherin aren't usually allowed to play sports by their families. It's deemed unladylike. Apart from that, Draco and I were the only second years that had the courage to try out for the team. Our house is known for getting more muscular and more intimidating looking players that had no problem elbowing someone in the face when the Referee isn't looking.
I have loose morals. I don't mind elbowing Cho Chang until a couple of her teeth fall out.
The boys were all rowdy and rough. They pushed at each other and wrestled on the floor. Draco stood close, careful to push anyone that came near me.
We were all in green practice jerseys that were provided. It was a little too big for me. Thankfully, Daphne and the rest of our friends were watching the tryouts and she pulled me away to the side very quickly and cast a spell that made my jersey fit better on me.
Marcus Flint- the Captain- was in front of the group speaking with Adrian Pucey and Graham Montague.
He growls out an order for everyone to shut up. Instantly, everyone obeys. Marcus Flint might not be from a very prominent family but the respect for him in the house due to his rather violent history with Quidditch is high.
He might not be Aidan Lynch but he was highly respected in our house. Even I look up to him. His strategy and leadership- unsportsmanlike and bloody as it is- is what I aspire to be. Not to mention the terror in the enemies eyes whenever Marcus flies close to them.
"Alright, you pathetic fools. Get on your brooms and show us your horrendous flying." Marcus barks getting on his own broom.
Pucey rolls his eyes at a third year who fumbles with his broom. "If you fall off, never show your face in the common room because Marcus will hex you."
Draco and I share a look before flying away. Flying for me was otherworldly. It was calming and therapeutic even if I was going as fast as my broom could take me.
I was faster than all the other boys trying out maybe because of pure skill or because I weight less making it easier for my broom.
I hear Marcus mercilessly shout at the boys behind me. Telling them that he couldn't believe a girl was faster than them. Thankfully, when I turned to look Draco was doing better than most. He was just as fast as Marcus, Adrian and Graham.
It was hours of flying and hours of passing the Quaffle back and forth between Marcus and Graham with no break. Graham was easier to play with since I was used to him and his play style but Marcus was unpredictable. He was fast and he throws the ball hard like it was a bludger the force almost knocking me off my broom but I sucked it in. If I wanted to play professional, I needed to have the endurance for it.
