At the same time, but also many years in the past, a seventh year Slytherin paced the floor outside a funny tapestry of trolls dancing ballet. He focused intently on his purpose, wringing his hands as he did so. Am ornate golden door materialized, with an image of an hourglass on it. He threw his shoulders back, thrust out his chest, and entered the room, confidence emanating from him.
As the young man enters the room, he falters and stares at the sight in front of him. A tall, lanky, messy-haired kid with glasses is standing in front of him, a friendly look on his face.
"Who's your favorite Quittitch team?"
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I'm so sorry about the short and crappy chapter, I've got a lot of stuff going on!! Thanks for reading and I love you guys!!
