Quote:
Originally Posted by
THE Govoni 
Still dressed in his Slytherin Quidditch robes and covered in some sweat, Dylan carried an unmoving, smelly, sweaty girl into the waiting room. To her defense, however, she had just been at tryouts...So, he supposed it wasn't so horrible that she was...stinky.
Logan shouldn't have been trying to mix it up with Sierra Greingoth. Simply put.
Settling into a seat, he readjusted Logan in his arms and waited for the Healer to be with them...and hopefully she wouldn't be too long. A pile of homework was waiting for him back in Slytherin.
Tugging on her
scarf, Beatrice shifted her gaze to the stone floor while her legs still followed the Slytherin Captain who was carrying his dame in comfort, his broad with the blues, his doxy in danger, his helpless honey
with heartache who fell off the broom. Yeah, whatever her title was. Beezus didn't know the girl, or at least they haven't been acquainted...yet. So why was she bothering herself tailing the two of them? Simple. She would try helping that random person -- not in the medical sense though, it was the Healer's forte, she was going to give more like...errr...moral support -- because knowing her knight in shining Quidditch armor, he wasn't very good with those kind of stuff.
Although, the Ravenclaw wasn't sure the two even knew that she was situated on their heels.
As he slumped down into a seat, Beezus edged into one side of the wall beside him, resting her back on the cold marble, crossed her arms, and tilted her head.
"You're not trying to kill your team members, are you Dylan?"