Baby, Let the Games Begin

Carter Vanity: Hang on. She's winning.

Yvonne Vanity: Emma! Emma Vanity, you stop beating up that boy!

Emma, in the background pinning down a boy: Eat dirt! Eat it!

WHEN: April 27th, 1977. 11:14am WHERE: 6th year Sytherin Female Dorm WHO: Emma & @lucindatalksalot​

"Mmm,” the hum came out low, almost a whine to prove just how much Emma was about to regret what she was about to say. “I don’t know anyone who can sleep in as much as you. It’s almost noon, Luce.” It could’ve also had something to do with the fact that the two didn’t get much sleep the night before...or that morning. That would normally make for an exceptionally cranky redhead, but her mood at that moment was just fine. In fact, she felt glorious. Her smile was almost radiant--- a true smile which Emma didn’t wear nearly as much as she should. The smile stayed in place as she lazily rolled over in bed, not bothering to cover herself with the sheets which had been pushed aside in the process. The dorm was empty and Emma wasn’t shy. The sixth year Slytherin nuzzled closer to the younger Slytherin, pressing her lips to their’s. Lucinda Talkalot had a habit of finding her way into Emma’s dorm, though she did even before the two were sleeping together. “We’ve got to get ready for Quidditch practice. Imagine if I allowed Avery and Mulciber a practice without my constant reminder they’re pathetic? They would be more insufferable than usual.”

Sometimes Brenton just needed to hit something and when the students in the school were being boring or the teachers were being even more boring and stopping him from hitting other students he had to resort to the Quidditch pitch. He had always had a restless energy, one that his parents had fruitlessly hoped would be calmed by Quidditch. Unfortunately, it took little for him to be distracted so even with a Bludger flying towards him, Brenton found himself leaning back on his broom, eyes tracking the red hair and green robes walking onto the pitch. He knocked the Bludger away just in time and laughed when she shouted at him to do it again. Leaning forwards on his broomstick, he chased the ball and whipped around so that he was behind it. WHACK! He followed the hit through, the Bludger aimed at Emma as she rose on her broom. “Better?” He hovered where he was, making no attempt to follow the Bludger. She had enough warning to dodge.

The Slytherin leaned back on her broom, watching Brenton chase the bludger. Emma was even less surprised when said bludger was aimed directly at her. Honey brown hues cast upwards and she leaned forward, hands gripping the front of her broom as she waited a moment for the bludger to get closer before dodging it. The redhead flew upwards--- higher than where Brenton was, and she even added a dramatic flair of flying in a loop in the air as she dodged. “I’m rarely impressed, Avery,” she commented with a chuckle, settling comfortably where she hovered on her broom. “And please don’t make me pick up a bat to practice with you. This is my final year to play Quidditch at school--- Slytherin doesn’t need to be down a Beater for the year. It’s not fair for Alecto to pick up more slack than she usually has to.” Emma shrugged her shoulders casually, smirking as she taunted him further. She was a tough Captain as it was--- someone rarely heard a compliment from Emma. If you didn’t hear her bitching at you to do better so you didn’t mess up the match like you did last time was about the only compliment one would get from the girl. Brenton had it even tougher on him because Emma was...you could say friends with him. 

Even with the colder temperatures Emma was out on the pitch just as much as she would be during the warmer months--- meaning a lot. It was her seventh year and it wouldn’t surprise anyone if the Slytherin got recruited immediately out of school, including Emma herself. With the evening free of any practices she expected the pitch to be empty--- the weather wasn’t particularly the greatest. Green robes were enough to make her pay attention, and when Brenton’s bat collided with the bludger Emma couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “Again!” she called as she climbed on her broom, flying up halfway between him and the ground. “I can hit better than that, and I’m a shite beater. So...again.” The redhead cast a smirk in his direction, though her gaze followed the bludger. She was taunting him.