- Messages
- 312
- OOC First Name
- Camilla
- Blood Status
- Muggleborn
- Relationship Status
- Single (Not Looking)
- Age
- 18 (16/04/2042)
Xenia loved Quidditch. It hadn't been an easy love affair - she'd tumbled straight off her broom the first time she'd mounted one in class and had sworn off flying for most of first year. She'd slowly built confidence up in second and third years and then it had just clicked, and suddenly she was keeping for the team. And she was pretty good at it, if she said so herself. Much better than she was at writing essays, or brewing potions, or being a glamourous, elegant Beauxbatons girl.
Xenia ripped the blue ribbon out of her hair with a sigh, gazing down at the captain's badge held in her hand. Flo had picked her to lead, which had been exciting to an extent. She'd held her tongue a lot in her first year on the team but knew she'd be able to yell directions and encouragement and do the logistical sides of captaincy, especially when she was on a broom. Off the broom though, Xenia was conflicted. She stretched out a leg, rolling her ankle and looking at her scuffed sneakers. Until she had gotten her Beauxbatons letter, she hardly knew a word of French. Greek and English were fine, but French had been a struggle to speak and understand with the level of fluency she needed. Not to mention there were no other witches or wizards in her family (as much as her uncle Con called her aunt Voula one), so everything had just been that bit harder for her.
Her nailpolish, redone before starting school, was already chipped and messy. Her fingers tightened around the badge, and she looked up at the clear blue sky, unable to hold back another sigh. She knew she was trying way too hard and she just had to keep doing what she was doing, but didn't she have to look and act a certain way to represent the school? It was so much easier when she could just keep her head down and not care.
Xenia ripped the blue ribbon out of her hair with a sigh, gazing down at the captain's badge held in her hand. Flo had picked her to lead, which had been exciting to an extent. She'd held her tongue a lot in her first year on the team but knew she'd be able to yell directions and encouragement and do the logistical sides of captaincy, especially when she was on a broom. Off the broom though, Xenia was conflicted. She stretched out a leg, rolling her ankle and looking at her scuffed sneakers. Until she had gotten her Beauxbatons letter, she hardly knew a word of French. Greek and English were fine, but French had been a struggle to speak and understand with the level of fluency she needed. Not to mention there were no other witches or wizards in her family (as much as her uncle Con called her aunt Voula one), so everything had just been that bit harder for her.
Her nailpolish, redone before starting school, was already chipped and messy. Her fingers tightened around the badge, and she looked up at the clear blue sky, unable to hold back another sigh. She knew she was trying way too hard and she just had to keep doing what she was doing, but didn't she have to look and act a certain way to represent the school? It was so much easier when she could just keep her head down and not care.