Post by Lance Ulrich on May 17, 2008 0:13:36 GMT -8
August 30, 2010
7:00 p.m.
The first day of classes was finally over, and Lance was more than ready to kick back and relax. The first years had been annoying as usual, having to point them in the direction of classrooms and even their common rooms at times, which was a bit of a "Weren't you paying attention where your prefects lead you last night?" issue for Lance and therefore highly frustrating. He wanted nothing more than a good game of Quidditch, but he supposed he couldn't have one of those, not at this time of night when it still got dark relatively early. Besides, it wasn't like he'd be able to round up the remaining members of two house teams to play with him. Hitting a bludger wouldn't be easy with a lit wand in hand either, and people would get hurt in the dark, which was a small price to play for love of a game. People didn't sign up thinking they'd never be hurt. Then, there was the small fact that the Quidditch supplies were locked up at night, so alas, there was no way to play. He could fly, he supposed, but how long would that last?
This indecision had lead to his remaining in the foyer after he'd finished his meal and left the table. Technically, he was supposed to stick around to help the female 7th year Ravenclaw prefect, but oh well. He was sure he could always get out of a little scrap of trouble. After all, even the lady of the land had been too afraid to punish him even with her little defiant act. It was pathetic. All he had tried to do was help her a little (Alright, alright, more like vindictively and subtly try to stir up trouble between her and Trevor), and what had that got him? Kicked out of The Three Broomsticks. All had been going perfectly until that dumb Imperium Guard had showed up. Oy. That had been a few weeks ago now, so why should it matter?
Boredly, Lance sighed and looked up at the ceiling, hitting the back of his head lightly on the stone wall he stood before. He supposed he could always go to the library or the common room and do some studying and get homework out of the way, but he was still building up the desire. Even if he did well in school, it was always hard at first to get back into the habit of studying. If only he had a brain to pick, someone to have some form of at least slightly intelligent conversation. Nothing was worse than talking to an idiot simpleton, but at the same time nothing was more amusing than that--at times, anyway. Again, he hit his head against the wall only to notice someone out of the corner of his eye, which made him promptly straighten up and look over at the person as though considering the person.