- Messages
- 193
- OOC First Name
- Beth
- Wand
- Ash Wand 14 1/4" Essence of Hair from the Tail of a Male Unicorn
The park's regulars had all turned up for yet another day of freedom, playing in the park, laughing and being children. Beth was leant against a tree, a pad of parchment leant against her knees and a quill in her hand. She was staring at the page, and it was staring blankly back. She could think of nothing to write. School was getting on top of her and she was worrying that she was about to fail every last one of her N.E.W.Ts. It was a scary thought and she was bracing herself for the very worst. But you didn't need N.E.W.Ts to be a Quidditch player, did you? And that was what Beth had been thinking about becoming. Her love for Quidditch was undying and it was the one thing she really looked forward to.
Well, that and writing.
It was Beth's last year of running the Hogwarts Monthly, and she would be a little sad to say goodbye, but she knew it would be passed into Justin's capable hands. Still, this was not the gravest of her concerns. What was really getting to her was the fact that all her friends were in relationships, a lot of them long-term. When was she going to meet her Prince Charming? When would she be rescued from her metaphorical tower? Sighing to herself, the usually upbeat girl chucked her pad of parchment and quill aside, brushing a hand through her hair before staring up into the tree. Her mind drifted and she lost track of time. She couldn't have noticed anything else going on in the world unless it addressed her directly.
Well, that and writing.
It was Beth's last year of running the Hogwarts Monthly, and she would be a little sad to say goodbye, but she knew it would be passed into Justin's capable hands. Still, this was not the gravest of her concerns. What was really getting to her was the fact that all her friends were in relationships, a lot of them long-term. When was she going to meet her Prince Charming? When would she be rescued from her metaphorical tower? Sighing to herself, the usually upbeat girl chucked her pad of parchment and quill aside, brushing a hand through her hair before staring up into the tree. Her mind drifted and she lost track of time. She couldn't have noticed anything else going on in the world unless it addressed her directly.