Could this blasted feast be over with already?

Cece had been sitting there wishing she was back at her new home in Italy with Waylon minding her own business and watching out over her snakes when her ears were assaulted by that crazy neighbor of hers yelling down the table.

Looking down the table she GLARED at the crazy blonde who was doing all that yelling. Seriously woman. Keep your conversation to your own end of the table.

It was because of crazies like her that Cece chose to buy a house in another country.

Now. Where was that speech?

Oh, there it was. About time too.

Cece half listened to Bunz as she continued to glare at her colleagues at the other end of the table. Her glare did soften just a little though when she heard NO QUIDDITCH.

FINALLY!

The blasted sport that she hated was no more. Which meant no more healing those sports related injuries that could have been prevented if the sport didn't exist.

And to think. All it took was one little letter threatening those that had anything to do with the sport.

This term might not be so bad after all.