- Messages
- 2,353
- OOC First Name
- Jesse
- Blood Status
- Pure Blood
- Relationship Status
- Single
- Sexual Orientation
- Bisexual
- Wand
- Straight 11 ½ Inch Sturdy Maple Wand with Ashwinder Dust Core
- Age
- June 20 2038 (24)
Lysander’s duel against Juniper had been his most intense yet. He had never felt as exhausted as he did now, in part due to the toll it had taken to throw up what felt like an endless amount of slugs, but mostly due to the exertion of using so much magic in such a short span of time. He sat upright in one of the Hospital Wings beds, clutching at a metal bucket in his arms, only a few rows down from where he’d once visited Ajaccio after leaving him in much the same position. Now he knew what it was like to be on the receiving end of his favourite jinx. But the nausea, the exhaustion, it was nothing compared to the anger and disappointment he felt from losing. He’d not lost a duel in his four years at Hogwarts, and now he’d lost not just his first, but also the title of champion he’d so proudly held on to. It had meant so much. He’d felt special. Unbeatable.
Below, the duels continued into their remaining rounds, and Lysander dwelled bitterly on the knowledge that he wouldn’t get to be a part of it. Juniper was probably already duelling her next opponent. It should have been him. He’d underestimated her. He was used to winning, and he hadn’t expected it to be any different this time around. He could already picture it, watching someone else get congratulated and presented a badge while he just watched from the sidelines, no longer good enough to be considered a champion, the best duelist in his year. The envy left an ugly knot in his stomach, and might have turned him green if the nausea hadn’t already done so. He didn’t know what had changed. He’d practiced, he’d really tried, even invented a whole new spell with Sully that he had thought would have given him an edge in the tournament. He hadn’t even gotten to show it off.
The former champion slumped miserably over his bucket, which sloshed with the few slugs he’d had the energy to throw up since he’d left the dungeons. This year had not been going the way he’d hoped. Falling behind in his animagus studies, dealing with Sierra stepping down as his co-captain, and now this to top it all off, it felt like he was slowly losing everything, and he didn’t know what to do. This win had felt more important than the previous years, and when it mattered most, he’d failed.
Below, the duels continued into their remaining rounds, and Lysander dwelled bitterly on the knowledge that he wouldn’t get to be a part of it. Juniper was probably already duelling her next opponent. It should have been him. He’d underestimated her. He was used to winning, and he hadn’t expected it to be any different this time around. He could already picture it, watching someone else get congratulated and presented a badge while he just watched from the sidelines, no longer good enough to be considered a champion, the best duelist in his year. The envy left an ugly knot in his stomach, and might have turned him green if the nausea hadn’t already done so. He didn’t know what had changed. He’d practiced, he’d really tried, even invented a whole new spell with Sully that he had thought would have given him an edge in the tournament. He hadn’t even gotten to show it off.
The former champion slumped miserably over his bucket, which sloshed with the few slugs he’d had the energy to throw up since he’d left the dungeons. This year had not been going the way he’d hoped. Falling behind in his animagus studies, dealing with Sierra stepping down as his co-captain, and now this to top it all off, it felt like he was slowly losing everything, and he didn’t know what to do. This win had felt more important than the previous years, and when it mattered most, he’d failed.