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Sweden vs Japan: Quidditch World Cup Final; Year 4 - Day 16 - QWC - Day 6 - 12pm
Topic Started: Feb 16 2015, 05:22:29 PM (2,467 Views)
Jessica Weasley
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Charms Professor

Sweden vs Japan

Match Information: Kicks off at 12:30pm on the 10th August 2033. Final match of the Quidditch World Cup.

Sweden:

  • Chasers: Abigael Olsen, Hugo Larsson, Maxwell Stenberg
  • Beaters: Alexander DeWitt and Emilia Svenson
  • Keeper: Moa Kron [Captain]
  • Seeker: Anton Borg

Coach: Christoffer Winter


Japan:

  • Chasers: Ritsu Fujimoto [Captain], Mizuki Hamasaki, Kiyotaka Akiyama
  • Beaters: Kouichi Minami and Byakuya Tsukino
  • Keeper: Izumi Sato
  • Seeker: Gorou Suzuki

Coach: Kyoya Tainaka


Referee: Zachary Paterson
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earth elementum
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Melissa Levander
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Melissa had known that Sweden would make the final, it just had to happen. The cheering for the Swedish team was so loud it send her ears buzzing for an hour after their match against Russia. Melissa had cheered with her brothers and clapped for her former schoolmate, she had even spoken to Sasha over the few nights and send her congratulations to Alex. With a black sun hat placed on her head Melissa found herself a good position to watch the final match. It was Sweden against Japan, while Sweden had the strength and the brute force Japan has the speed and fancy tricks. It seemed as though this match would be a long one.

She had never really been all that interested in Quidditch, but this world cup had changed her mind. Maybe it was the fact she didn’t need to actually listen to the idiot around her whisper about their hair and their makeup and their boring lives, everyone just watched what was happening in front of them. Melissa was not stood with her brothers this time, they had decided to stand with her parents who Melissa could hardly stand. She had gotten away from them for the day, and it seemed as though maybe she could watch this match in mostly peace. If another interesting person like Belle came along to speak to her though, Melissa thought that she wouldn’t mind that much.
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Melissa Levander
Pureblood
Swedish
Durmstrang student


I know what I want
and I’ll get what I need

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Camille Montague
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they lose their minds for us

“So when shall I have the pleasure of meeting this boy you are dating?” Camille asked as she fiddled with the cigarette packet within her hands. Gwen walked next to her as the two of them went searching for the booth they had been placed in. Camille had been told by her granddaughter that there may be other guests within the booth, which would compromise of the friends of Gwen. Which includes that delightful girl who had arrived at the Montague household only a few nights previous. Camille pulled out a cigarette and looked down to her granddaughter who shrugged her shoulders.

“Maybe today, I invited him to come to the booth.” Gwen admitted as she looked at her grandmother. “Smoking by a no smoking sign?” Gwen questioned with a small snarky tone.

“You should know by now people like us don’t need to abide by silly rules.” Camille laughed as she lit up her cigarette and smoked. The two continued walking along the back of the stalls when Gwen suddenly tapped her grandmothers’ side and seemed to stop in her tracks. Camille stopped and turned to Gwen.

Gwen pointed over to a small figure who was stood on her own by the wall. She was looking around, as though she was waiting for someone. The two of them knew who the girl was, Camille laughed and continued to walk ahead of Gwen. Uncaring of who the girl was and what she was waiting for. It shouldn’t matter to them.
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Camille Montague
Pureblood
Head of the Montague Household

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Amaranthine Sisterhood
we don’t fight fair
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Emily Pemberly
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put on your doll faces

Emily was stood at the side of one of the many walkways in the stadium, she looked around as she ran her nails along the palm of her hand. She was waiting for a certain person to come into view, if they would even show up. And she did. Emily caught sight of her half-sister and without thinking she walked over there with a purpose in mind. What she didn’t notice was the older, scarier looking woman who was smoking at her side. Emily almost jumped, she felt fear shoot up to her throat.

“What do you want?” Gwen sneered quickly, her whole face seemingly changing in front of her. Emily gulped and turned to her.

“Now now Gwen, who is this child?” Camille said shushing her granddaughter. Emily looked back to the woman with some curiosity. But at least the woman wasn’t yelling at her, or laughing, or glaring or anything too negative. She was just smiling. Emily smiled back, as though it was some type of approval to talk.

“I’m Emily, I just need to talk to Gwen because something happened to our mom last night and… She got hurt.” Emily stared at her half-sister, who just stared back. There was an awkward silence, Emily glanced to the older woman who blew out another puff of smoke. “I just thought you should know…” Emily spoke timidly. She stepped back and Gwen shrugged her shoulders.

“Why would I care? She isn’t a mother to me.” Gwen snarled walking around Emily and off into the distance. Emily spun around and stared at her sister as the older women stepped forward and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry for your mother, everything happens for a reason.” Camille smiled and then turned to walk off ahead. “It was nice to meet you Emily.” Camille turned her head and walked away, Emily stood in the middle of the pathway and stared at the duo. She let out a shaky breath and quickly turned to run off back to her seat.
Posted ImageEmily PemberlyHalfblood
Ravenclaw


everyone thinks that we're perfect, please don't let them look through the curtains

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Gwen Montague
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Gwen turned around after she walked away from Emily, what was that girl thinking? Why would she even think in that tiny brain of hers that Gwen would want to know, or even care, about her mother being hurt? Gwen didn’t feel a hint of guilt as she walked away, but she didn’t really want to deal with that little thing. Her grandmother seemed to be smirking though, her eyes were like snake eyes and her face was twisted into an unusual smile.

“Why are you smiling like that?” Gwen demanded. Camille took another drag of her cigarette.

“Questions later. Now let’s go up to the booth, I want to meet your mystery man.” Camille suddenly said, giving no answers. Gwen rolled her eyes and began to walk up to the booth which the Montague family would be sat in. But she still stood wondering to herself what exactly her grandmother was thinking.
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Full name: Gwendolyn Morgana Montague
Nickname(s): Gwen
Blood: Pureblood
Youngest of the Montague household

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we don’t fight fair

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Kyoko Mori
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I REFUSE TO BE FORGOTTEN

Kyoko stood in the stadium near one of the commentary stands, she hadn’t been surprised when Japan beat Italy within the previous day’s game. It had caused an uproar of celebrations. Tonight was the night and she was excited for the possibility of her country actually winning the world cup. Looking out to the stadium Kyoko began to wonder where she should position herself during the match. She wanted to watch it all and cheer for her country, she hoped that Cynthia would be somewhere in the stands.

The two of them could probably hang out and talk about the reappearance of Brett last night. After waiting a few minutes by the commentator’s box Kyoko decided to make her way down to where the players were getting ready. It was lucky that her father was good friends with one of the fathers of the players. That meant Kyoko had known them for some time. Izumi Sato was the keeper for Japan, and Kyoko was decent friends with her.

So she decided to make her way down to where the players were waiting just to see if she could get in and wish them luck.
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Kyoko Mori
Japanese
Pureblood
Twin

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our names won't be remembered if we die like trampled flowers
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Anatoli Ivanov
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прах к праху, все мы падаем

Anatoli yelped as a small blonde girl barreled past him, bumping her shoulder with his. He frowned. For someone so tiny, she certainly packed a punch. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. It certainly wasn't - Anatoli hadn't expected things between him and Gwen to move so quickly and while he loved spending time with his girlfriend, meeting her family was a major step. He knew of Camille Montague - everyone knew of Camille Montague - and while it wasn't difficult for him to justify Gwen's use of rather questionable magic, Anatoli had a very hard time stomaching anyone who willingly associated themselves with Constance Sinclair.

He stepped into the threshold of the Montague Booth, mustering his best 'Alice smile.' Perhaps the rumors had been untrue. Maybe Camille was the loveliest, kindest woman on the planet earth. Maybe not. Either way, Anatoli would deal with it - being with Gwen meant being with her family and Anatoli really, really, really wanted to be with Gwen.
\\ Anatoli Maxim Ivanov //
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"You never know. I could surprise you."
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Camille Montague
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they lose their minds for us

Camille’s eyes were like daggers, and they were pointed right at the boy who was stood in the Montague booth threshold. He had brown hair and a seemingly vague smile, but his face was somehow familiar. As though she had seen him before. A waiter maybe? Before Camille could part her painted red lips Gwen jumped out from her hair and darted up to the boy.

Gwen pressed her lips to his cheek and wrapped her arms around his neck before leading him into the booth. Camille could hardly work out what she was whispering to him. But of course the first person he would be introduced to would be Camille herself. Her face was stoic, her body positioned casually in the chair which sat near one of the glass panels. She could watch the game with ease from here, as well as watch the whole room with a keen eye.

“Gran, this is Anatoli.” Gwen spoke with confidence, her face was almost angry, as though she was trying to tell her grandmother that she didn’t care what she said. Camille resented that. She would control the family, and if she did not like this boy then he would be gone. Camille looked over the boy, she stood up and sussed him out before relaxing into a false smile.

“I assume he is of a higher status?” Camille said with a low tone as she looked down her nose at him. Gwen scowled.

“Yes, but he isn’t a Slytherin before you ask. He’s like Victor.” Camille nodded her head, thankful that the boy wasn’t in Gryffindor. Those boys asked too many questions, and were far too confident within themselves. Camille nodded her head, as though it was some kind of approval, but nothing concrete.

“Welcome to the booth Anatoli, I look forward to hearing more about you.” Camille smiled, tilting her head and watching the boy daring him to say something.
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Camille Montague
Pureblood
Head of the Montague Household

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Amaranthine Sisterhood
we don’t fight fair
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Anatoli Ivanov
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прах к праху, все мы падаем

The second he made eye contact with Camille Montague, Anatoli's entire posture shifted. He stood up straighter, held his shoulders back, lifted his chin - Anatoli had grown up in a high society family and Merlin knew that he could hold his own with the Montagues. He was a member of the Fillipelli and Ivanov bloodlines, two wizarding families who were powerful in their own right but practically unstoppable together. As much as it pained him to say it - Anatoli hated the idea of blood purity - it was hard to find a better pedigree. He grinned as Gwen kissed him on the cheek, squeezing her waist lightly. She seemed nervous. That wasn't a confidence booster.

He listened quietly as Camille fired question after question at Gwen. There was no point in speaking for himself. Camille didn't care about what he said until he had passed the first round of inspection. Pureblood? Check. Wealthy? Check. Not a Gryffindor? Check. Not a blood traitor? Check. Camille's lips curved into an unfriendly smile. Anatoli gave a slight bow. "Thank you for the invitation." He answered, holding his hand out to the Montague matriarch. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you. I've heard nothing but wonderful things."
\\ Anatoli Maxim Ivanov //
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"You never know. I could surprise you."
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Alexander DeWitt
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J A E G E R

This was it.

Alexander felt as if he were propped upon a pedestal, a king on his iron throne, a crown sat atop his golden curls as he casted a weary stare at his subjects. The Quick Quill pens scribbled furiously across blank parchment, chasing every word that spilled from Team Sweden's mouth. Alexander DeWitt sat in the center of the press conference, just beside his coach, the star player and the one to bring the championship home.

Behind him, his mother, Lucy DeWitt stood, her spine as stiff as a quidditch broomstick. She smiled in a chagrined manner, her Perfect-Minister-for-Magic-Wife facade threatening to crumble at the first pressing question. She had her hand rested on Alexander's shoulder. She was afraid to release him, almost as if relinquishing him would mean forever.

The press room buzzed with journalist jargon, the occasional flash of the camera and shared laughter. Alexander remained silent, his teammates speaking on his behalf as he struggled to gather his thoughts. It was like trying to catch embers flitting away from a roaring fire: Pointless and painful. A storm brewed beneath Alexander's skin, forging his eyes into iron, his heart into steel. Ice in his veins.

He had a dilemma, far more complicated than unruly kids with a few tricks up their sleeves. His cousin was dead. His father, the Minister for Magic, had rigged the entire World Cup until this point of the game, profiting thousands from the won and lost matches. The final step was for Sweden to lose the match. And for that to happen, Alexander would have to uncharacteristically play with a distracted mentality.

He had thought over it more than he had thought about his future. On one hand, he wanted to be on good terms with his father again. And it wouldn't hurt to have money to burn. On the other hand, it wouldn't be fair, and Alexander had worked too hard to allow the opportunity to slip from his bruised fingers. He had talked about it to Dolly, and she had encouraged him to do what felt right. But the problem was that he was conflicted on what right meant.

He couldn't speak to Alice about it. Theodore was missing. Vera dead. Dean was in on the game, and would frown at Alexander for not following through with the initial plan. Sasha would be disappointed if she knew Alexander would willingly lose for a large sum of money. What should he do? It ate away at Alexander's stability: Cheat or don't cheat, either way, the backlash would ripple through the pond.

"This next question is for Beater Alexander DeWitt."

Alexander's coach flashed a glance, his eyebrows raised in concern. Alexander met his gaze and nodded reassuringly. He was ready for any questions thrown his way. The room fell silent, the tips of the quills pressed to the paper as they readied to cement Alexander's words into reality.

"Do you think that participating in the Triwizard Tournament has prepared you for the World Cup in any way?"

Lucy's hand squeezed Alex's shoulder. Immediately, the cogs in his mind began to churn, an old film briefly replaying the events of the Tournament. He had danced with dragons. He had slayed centaurs. He had narrowly avoided a grueling death by fire. The Triwizard Tournament was a Hell he had endured that would forever leave him with psychological trauma. He would gladly endure a thousand World Cups if it meant he could forget the Tournament.

Every pair of eyes in the room pressed on Alexander as they waited. They were vultures, hungry to pick apart his words, eager to tear down his walls. Alexander's eyes flitted through the crowd. He only saw unfamiliar faces. They blended into blobs. In a room brimmed with people, he felt frighteningly alone.

Alexander rubbed at the stubble that had spouted on his chin. He sighed, his tired eyes dropping to his hands. "Of course," he said, his voice flat. "I learned to push myself in times of challenge and saw that I am capable of most things. Although the Tournament was more daunting than the World Cup, I still feel like I had practiced enough to be here. I think I deserve it."

Alexander could picture the headlines tomorrow: "SELF-ENTITLED MINISTER'S SON BELIEVES HE WAS BORN TO PLAY IN THE WORLD CUP."

The medium was the message, and it was powerful.

"I wish Japan the best of luck. I wish Sweden the best of luck. We're going to play our hearts out. I've dreamed about this moment since the first time a bludger hit me across the face." On instinct, Alexander reached up and gently brushed on the scar across his lip. A few of the reporters laughed. "It's important to me. In a sense, I think I've been prepared my whole life."

He turned to glance at his mother. She met him with a smile, and the flashbulbs began to rain on them like lightening.
Posted ImageAlexander Raleigh DeWitt
House DeWitt | "Ours is the fury." | Falmouth Falcons
| VOX POPULI | MEN OF MAYHEM | HOGWARTS ORIGINAL |



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Gwen Montague
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Anatoli was doing perfectly in Gwen’s eyes, he wasn’t butting in as her grandmother spoke and he seemed to be listening to everything she said. It was going well, he had even given a slight bow which made Gwen snigger quietly to herself. It was going along better than she had expected. When he extended his hand however, Gwen felt her breath catch in her throat. She paused, watching and waiting to see what exactly Camille Montague would do with the gesture.

But slowly and surely enough, Camille reached out and gripped his hand shaking it before releasing the boy from her grips. It was a major sign of approval, one which Camille rarely gave to new blood on the block. Gwen smiled.

“I can say the same for yourself, I hope you enjoy the game.” Camille said as a final statement before she sat back down in her chair and pulled out yet another cigarette. Gwen pulled Anatoli back and walked him away from the woman.

“You did well. Be glad my dad isn’t here yet, I mean he isn’t as scary or anything but if you catch him on a bad day…” Gwen shrugged and pulled her boyfriend over to where there were a few sofas. But one thing that was on her mind was the previous night’s events. Gwen had ended up at Anatoli’s tent, and in the morning she left early to get ready for the match. She hadn’t had a chance to ask about how he felt regarding Brett and the major scene last night. She sighed, was it pressing into his mind?
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Full name: Gwendolyn Morgana Montague
Nickname(s): Gwen
Blood: Pureblood
Youngest of the Montague household

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we don’t fight fair

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Alex Dawson


Alex found herself walking into the World Cup. She looked around at all the people and shuddered. She was not one for crowds. But every year Alex and her family would come to the World Cup and watch the game in their booth. Their family wasn't that big but they still had their own personal booth which made Alex feel...special. She summoned a deep breath as she walked down to her booth.

Alex was always fond of the Sweden team and was rooting for them even though they weren't her favorite team. Also it was pretty cool that a former Hogwarts student was on that team. Alex kinda smiled at that thought even though she had never met him to was kinda cool to think about. In the sea of people she recognized many other pureblood families in their booths and many kids from school.

She decided to stop standing around and thinking and to actually do something and go to the booth. So she took a calming breath and walked off to her booth. On the way she saw the Malfoy booth and recognized a boy who went to her school. She had seen his face around quite often. Alex was not a name person. Was his name Vincent or Victor? Alex shrugged but none of the less nodded politely to him.
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Victor Malfoy
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how many secrets can you keep?

The previous night’s events had been a shamble, to put it lightly. Victor had ended up taking Mags to his own tent after she had gotten hurt and his mother had spent the night making sure her leg was okay. Victor had sat in the main room of his tent, staring at the ground and rubbing his hands together as thoughts clouded his mind. His brother had sat opposite him and spoke about how everything would be fine in the morning, and how Victor had red eyes which looked far too tired. So Victor took the advice from his brother and retreated to his own bed, only to wake up just an hour or so before the final match would take place.

Mags was gone, as was his family. A note was on the table saying everyone had gone to the match. Victor pulled on a loose top and pushed a green beanie hat onto his head to distract from his messy unkempt hair. He walked to the stadium and up to his booth with the argument from the previous night still looping in his mind. But he wasn’t all that focused on the actual interworking’s of the Moreau family. Instead, his mind was somehow still on Vera and what had happened to her.

How he couldn’t stop it, and how you couldn’t just stop things happening in life. He had almost forgotten what happened in the stadium, until he walked into the booth and realised it looked just like the one from the second days match. Victor almost panicked, he stepped back from the booth and turned around with the hope that someone he could have known would be stood outside.

Luckily for Victor, there was Alex Dawson. Although the two hadn’t spoken much Victor knew her from the quiet gossip that slipped from his cousins lips. Ali and Lucius were always the worst when it came to situations like this, and a pureblood father abandoning his family? Victor had wondered for a little while whether it was Ali who stole him away, but that wasn’t the case and Victor had not put much thought into the situation. Pureblood drama filled every corner of the wizarding society. No matter how unknown they thought they were. “Alex, right?” Victor called out as she nodded to him.

He quickly walked over to her shoving his hands into his pockets. “I saw you at the party last night.” Victor said suddenly, he had paid some attention to his surroundings but it wasn’t enough to make him actually speak to anyone other than Mags. And maybe Charlie.
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Alex Dawson


Alex was surprised when she saw Victor/Vincent walk up to her. All she really knew was that he was a Malfoy. One of the most powerful pureblood families. Alex nodded when he said her name and looked back at him. "Your Victor?" She asked guessing completely and was behind relieved when he shook his head. Like Alex had told her mother millions of times... she wasn't a name person and always forgot names of others.

Alex was equally surprised when Victor said he saw her last night. He'd noticed her? She thought that all he really did was talk to Mags and Charles. But then again her and Quinn sat right next to them so she wasn't that surprised. Well actually she was still pretty surprised. She let out a small smile as she nodded her head in agreement.

"Ya. I saw you to. Didn't you guys sit next to Quinn and I?" Alex asked even though she knew the answer. Well she thinks she does. Honestly last night was still a little fuzzy to Alex and he might have not even sat near her. That would have been embarrassing if they didn't sit next to each other. Just another good reason why Alex shouldn't drink alcohol.

While waiting for his answer Alex tightened the Gryffindor scarf around her neck because it was starting to get cold outside. But Alex could handle the cold. I mean, she could handle a lot of stuff. As Alex rambled on to herself she stopped herself immediately. Boy she was so glad that no one could read minds. She suddenly blushed from her rambling on but quickly hid her cheeks under her scarf so Victor/Vincent couldn't see. And she prayed he didn't notice. She hated being viewed as weak in front of others.

She looked around at the still packed area and sighed inwardly. When she was walking she must have gotten so occupied by all the people that she got lost. She had no clue where she was and was actually happy that Victor/Vincent had found her. She cleared her throat and looked shamefully at the ground. " Well, I'm kinda lost..." Alex trailed off embarrassed. It was hard for her to admit that she did anything wrong and waited for his response hoping that he wasn't mad even though they never really talked before.
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Victor Malfoy
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how many secrets can you keep?

“Yeah, Victor Malfoy.” Victor nodded his head to her as he properly introduced himself, as she seemed a tad bit uncertain of herself. It was weird how after spending time with the Weasley family Victor had begun to gravitate towards those in the Gryffindor house. Maybe it was just a coincidence. Victor watched Alex as she stood with a smile, wrapped up in her coat as an unusually cool wind drifted through the stadium. It seemed to be warm everywhere else, Victor put it down to the air vents and air conditioners which must have been cranked up to accommodate to the larger crowds. It was the final after all.

“Probably, Charlie did walk over there with Quinn.” Victor found it easy to remember names, which helped him when he went about his prefect duties. Quinn was known to him for other reasons though, ones which were hard to overlook at times. But she always looked so scared, Victor could hardly imagine the fear that Ezra had instilled into her. He pitied Quinn, he could never pity Ezra.

It was a chain of events which had, apparently, been sorted out. But the fear in her eyes never did go away. It was easy to tell from how she would run away or seemingly panic in front of their eyes. Or how Ezra would smirk and laugh in her face. It was cruel, but Ezra had stated there was no need to go near her again. Revenge wasn’t on the cards, oddly. Victor pushed the thought out of his mind as he tried to focus on Alex again. Too much damage had been done recently. Attempted murders, actual murders, fear and anxiety ran rampant within and outside the walls of Hogwarts.

“Lost?” Victor glanced around. “Where do you want to go?” Victor wouldn’t have minded getting away from his booth until the game started. He wasn’t sure how he would stand staying in the booth, but at least he could put it off for now.
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Alex Dawson


Alex made sure to remember his name. I mean he is a very powerful person after all and the least she could do was know his name. She felt another cold wind and looked around confused. She then looked back to Victor. "Does it seem cold over here to you?" Alex asked Victor yet again looking around the arena.

Alex nodded when he confirmed that he was sitting next to them. Alex was relieved that she hadn't had been rambling about absolutely nothing like a weirdo. But in a way everyone was weird. Alex wasn't really in all the rumors and gossip actually she preferred to stay out of it but, she had heard someone saying that there was history between Ezra and Quinn but she tried to stay out of it. But, Alex considered Quinn a friend and if anyone messed with Quinn Alex would "talk" to them. She hoped this Ezra person hadn't done anything too bad.

Alex's mind drifted off to what Quinn had told her yesterday about the shooting at the school and Alex shivered from fear. Why were people so cruel and violent? Honestly, Alex didn't think anyone had the answer to that. Just like no one had the answer to...Alex refused to think about that. Goodness there were so many unanswered questions in the world.

Alex nodded when Victor claimed she was lost. Alex didn't want to near her mother but knew that if she was late she'd get in trouble. She looked back up at Victor. "Back to my families booth. I have no clue where it is." She replied slightly embarrassed. She looked down at her feet.

Honestly Alex wasn't surprised that she was lost. That was just...typical Alex. getting lost in a crowded place. Alex was so excited to return to Hogwarts. Her and Quinn might even be in the same room. That would be awesome. She felt like this year would be a good year. Alex really hoped that she hadn't just jinxed anything. Alex looked back up at Victor. He was taller then her without a doubt. "Which team are you rooting for?" she asked Victor curious. Of course she was rooting for Sweden. The teams were both good so it would be a great game at the very least.
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Victor Malfoy
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how many secrets can you keep?

“Yeah, a little bit.” Victor said with a quick shrug, soon the place would be full up of hyped up fans and excited kids screaming for the team they want to win. There would be different languages floating in the air, some being screamed out and other timidly whispered to one another. Victor could feel the excitement in the air, but all he could feel himself was a cold heavy dread. His stomach twisted and even the most eye-catching people couldn’t drag his attention away. He felt as though he was nailed to the ground, stuck in the stadium where she had died. But none of these people knew.

Not many people would know, not until they got back to Hogwarts or anything else was announced. Victor blinked hard, trying to focus on the girl in front of him who had proclaimed she was lost. He glanced around to the other booths. What if he walked past he one where it happened? He wouldn’t even know, not really. Victor pushed his hands further into his pockets. “It has to be around here somewhere.” Victor stated, turning to look at an open booth with happy faces. Laughing fans. His stomach twisted again.

“Whoever wins I suppose.” Victor let out a stifled laugh. His shoulders shrugged. “What about you?” Victor turned to look at Alex once more, wondering whether she was trying to avoid something as well.
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Alex Dawson


Alex looked around the staidum surveying what was around her. She then turned her attention back to Victor and couldn't help but notice like he was upset about something. But, Alex didn't want to barge into his buissness. Plus, he wasn't the only person hiding something. Alex let her mind focus and all the happy kids with their parents running around free without a care in the world. Alex wished she was a little girl again. Oblivious to all the pain around her. But, you can't go back in time. Alex always wondered that if she went back in time if she could prevent what happened. If what happened was because of her? Alex felt the pain stab her heart and she quickly changed thoughts. No way was she going to get upset over something as silly as that.

So she turned her attention back to Victor and let out a half-hearted smile. Alex nodded her head scanning the booth's filled with people and unfamiliar faces. She couldn't see the sickening familiar face of her mother scowling at her. Which in a way was good. It just meant that Alex was that farther from her mom. Alex let out a relieved smile as she scanned the booths one more time, before turning towards Victor once again.

Alex let out a small smile at his answer. "I think i'm rooting for Sweeden. They seem like a good team and a former Hogwarts student is on their team." Alex smiled. even though Sweeden wasn't her favorite team she had to admit that they still were a pretty awesome team. She looked back at Victor. ''You excited for Hogwarts?'' Alex asked curiously. Well, since she was lost in the stadium she might as well get to know him.
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Rosaleen Darcy
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Rosaleen slowly walked into the stadium as she allowed the crowd to push her along. She wasn't exactly fond of crowds but wasn't adverse to them either. Crowds could be just as easily led - sometimes more so - than individuals. As one wise man once said, "A person is smart. People are dumb, panicky dangerous animals and you know it."

Rosaleen smiled to herself as she looked about, amused at her own thoughts. The stadium was huge, big enough to impress even her. It was brilliantly lit and a warm breeze was blowing through its entirety, almost dancing as it wove itself in and around the metal bars, booths and myriads of people.

She observed several families going into their own individual booths and frowned. Her mum was still recovering from depression and had never bought a booth for them; and of course her da had been a Muggle. Still, she supposed it didn't really matter where one sat - everything was done in the air anyhow.

As she began to climb the stairs to find a seat she noticed dozens of students she vaguely recognized from school. She had spent her first four years there keeping herself to herself. It wasn't that she was a private person; she just had no need for friends. And she wanted to learn more about her magic abilities before she could use them against others. Finally, she was an observer and had used those years to take note of her fellow students, to know which ones to use and which ones were useless to her.

She finally found an empty seat and quickly occupied it. She sighed as she looked around the stadium. Honestly she had no interest in Quidditch whatsoever; she was here because she knew her classmates would be and that it would be a constant topic of conversation for the first month at school. She didn't like being left out. But she really didn't care who won.

She folded her arms and tucked a long strand of black hair behind her ear.
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Ioanna MacGowan
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Cold

The crowds were exhausting, pushing Ioanna here and there and everywhere except where she wanted to go. Luckily, she was short enough that she could weave through the crowd, but on the other hand she lacked the assertiveness to do so, and so she ended up going with the flow of the crowd until, at last, she found her seat.

Why had she come here? She hated crowds and she hated noise. She'd come to the World Cup tournament to spend time with her sister, whom she barely knew and yet, to whom she felt inexplicably close. But Ariella was nowhere to be found, and she had her own friends to hang out with. Billie and Quinn were somewhere, probably. Ioanna hadn't told them she was coming.

She was awful at communication like that.

She thought she she should go to at least one game, as she hand't gone to one yet. She didn't really like quidditch, or noise, or people. Or the English.

She was surrounded on all sides.

She found her seat where next to it sat one of her classmates. She stood in front of her seat now, figuring it would be rude to sit down before saying "hello".

"Um," she said, nervously, "Hi. Rosaleen, right?"

Ioanna had never spoken to this girl before, but then again, she never really spoke to most of her classmates. She'd only started making real friends recently, which was certainly ironic. There was no guarantee that Rosaleen would be as understanding of Ioanna's affliction as Billie, Quinn or Fiona were.

"I'm Ioanna," she said, awkwardly presenting her hand.

Wasn't this girl in Slytherin? Ioanna's big sister, Ariella, was the Slytherin prefect, so maybe that'll keep Rosaleen from wanting to get nasty. Ari aside, most of the Slytherin girls Ioanna knew were mean, though Ioanna figured that sort of attitude was forged out of necessity when you spend your formative years in a proverbial snake pit. She honestly didn't fault most of the girls in Slytherin for that, at least not after they were done teasing her, and she'd had time to really think about why they would act that way.

But thinking about the reasons why people do what they do made her think about her mother and her uncle, and thinking about Slytherin girls in particular (especially the ones who had tormented her) made her think about poor Vera. These were things Ioanna didn't want to contemplate at that moment, so, instead, she tried to focus on the noise and excitement around her, and on the person whom she did not know, and for once she was thankful for their presence.

The girl in font of her didn't seem so bad. She didn't seem to have that ubiquitous bitchface that every Slytherin girl seemed to acquire--one which, Ioanna had to admit, she'd seen plastered on Ari's face more than once. Did Slytherin girls know how off-putting that was? It was almost as bad as the obnoxious smirk that Ioanna's father displayed: the one which everyone in Slytherin seemed to receive upon induction, along with their bitchface and silver-and-green tie!

...and sometimes the ones that didn't have the obvious bitchface markings were the the ones you had to watch out for...Snakes in the grass...

Ugh, stop being so negative, she thought, this chick hasn't even done anything to you.
Edited by Ioanna MacGowan, Feb 21 2015, 01:43:19 PM.
Posted ImageAll your dreams are over now
And all your wings have fallen down
She's just like you
So why keep doing what you do
Why cut a friend
Posted ImageBut you were my favorite moment
Of our dead century
Posted ImageBut your heart can't grieve
For your little dreams
Oh no your heart can't grieve
Not for your little dreams
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