:: Ganymede sat a few seats away from the older girls. She silently eavesdropped into their mundane small talk hoping to get some inkling of gossip or a rumor. Her aubergine hair falling around her young face, hiding her sideways looks. So far, just talk about quidditch and the grounds. The mention of Quidditch usually would have Ganymede butting in rudely and stating facts and figures and boasting about her own broom skills, but all that was ruined by the most recent owl she received. She picked at her school bag, then pulled something from it.
The parchment in her hand had been crumpled up, thrown, and re-flattened just that morning. It was from her MAG, a Ministry Appointed Guardian. Too much happened over the summer, and even though this thorn in her side was temporary, it was digging deep.
Quote:
Dear Ganymede Craft,
I hope you are doing well at Hogwarts. I just wanted to remind you of the rules that I have placed on you while you are in my care. :rules:
1. Follow all school rules
2. No Quidditch
Isn't that simple? I already established that you must send me an Owl each week. Don't forget, it's part of the agreement with the Ministry.
Your Guardian,
Mr. Marcus Brownsmith
Her ears went red again with anger as she crumpled the parchment up. It was a stupid rule, he had no right to tell her no Quidditch. Did that mean she couldn't even watch the games?
Her stomach made a strange growl, of course, it was hunger. But, it was mixed with defiance. :evillaugh
She scooted nearer to
Adelaide and Derry.
She grabbed some of the chicken that was left on the table, plopped it on her plate and cleared her throat.
"Ahemggrrh"
"I thought I overheard something about Quidditch..." She began her own small talk. ::