RP: Yes, it all ends today.
Date: July 4, 1999.
Characters: Katie Bell
Location: 47 South Vinewood Ave., Flat 2A
Status: Private
Summary: Katie hears from the Quidditch League.
Completion: Complete
The owls started coming while Katie was at the shop. She didn't open them there, despite Mr. Swift's urgings. Instead she collected them all up and stowed them safely in her bag. On her way home, she picked up a bottle of champagne so she could celebrate properly with Dean. It was a bit presumptuous, but she'd flown so well, better than most of the other people at many of the tryouts. She knew she'd made it. She just knew it.
She got home and put the champagne down on the table before beginning to rip the parchment open eagerly.
Dear Ms. Bell,
We are sorry to inform you...
Unfortunately...
We regret to say...
Thank you for trying out, however...
Katie's eyes began to blur with tears as she ripped one owl after another only to read the same thing. How could this happen? She was the fastest, she'd scored more goals, executed more plays.
When she ripped open the letter from the Harpies, another piece of parchment fell out. It was a handwritten note from Gwenog Jones. Katie's heart pounded in her chest as she read it, but she didn't understand.
Fast...excellent timing...Flint...keep the pitch and the bedroom separate...chuck him and try out again in a few years...
Katie sat down heavily on the couch. Not only had she failed, but she was the laughingstock of professional Quidditch. Not because she wasn't good enough. Because they seemed to think she was sleeping with Marcus Flint.
Characters: Katie Bell
Location: 47 South Vinewood Ave., Flat 2A
Status: Private
Summary: Katie hears from the Quidditch League.
Completion: Complete
The owls started coming while Katie was at the shop. She didn't open them there, despite Mr. Swift's urgings. Instead she collected them all up and stowed them safely in her bag. On her way home, she picked up a bottle of champagne so she could celebrate properly with Dean. It was a bit presumptuous, but she'd flown so well, better than most of the other people at many of the tryouts. She knew she'd made it. She just knew it.
She got home and put the champagne down on the table before beginning to rip the parchment open eagerly.
Dear Ms. Bell,
We are sorry to inform you...
Unfortunately...
We regret to say...
Thank you for trying out, however...
Katie's eyes began to blur with tears as she ripped one owl after another only to read the same thing. How could this happen? She was the fastest, she'd scored more goals, executed more plays.
When she ripped open the letter from the Harpies, another piece of parchment fell out. It was a handwritten note from Gwenog Jones. Katie's heart pounded in her chest as she read it, but she didn't understand.
Fast...excellent timing...Flint...keep the pitch and the bedroom separate...chuck him and try out again in a few years...
Katie sat down heavily on the couch. Not only had she failed, but she was the laughingstock of professional Quidditch. Not because she wasn't good enough. Because they seemed to think she was sleeping with Marcus Flint.