Reluctant Recruitment
| xxxxx | Early in the morning on the first Saturday of school, Kahira Valerian was dealing with her anger issues. Since the redhead's arrival on Tuesday and subsequent Sorting into what was very much the wrong House, Kahira had spent every waking minute either complaining about being put in Hufflepuff, hating being put in Hufflepuff, or trying to get switched into Slytherin, or a mix of all three. Already the young fashionista had grown rather adept at covering the golden badger crest on her robes with her hair, or she'd just taken to wearing a plain black robe instead of one that bore that unfortunate yellow symbol; her ugly uniform tie was to be worn only if a professor pointed out her lack of it, and otherwise, it found itself often shoved to the bottom of her bag. Green accessories only. She'd even considered switching to wear a majority of silver jewelry, even though gold definitely went better with her warm skin tone, just to avoid having anything even remotely Huffle-coded as part of her appearance. One of the worst parts, beyond the whole family disappointment and the lack of being able to show up her brother and being shoveled into a House notorious for taking not the ambitious nor the intelligent nor the bold but simply "the rest", was that Kahira's dream of playing for the Slytherin Quidditch team had been crushed. Auditions for all of the House teams would be happening over the next few weeks before the fall matches, but the scarlet-haired girl had hardly given any of the bulletin board flyers a glance; there was no use in wanting to play for a team that was so obviously lesser, and actively auditioning for Hufflepuff's pathetic display for a Quidditch sectional would almost have come across as her giving up, as her wanting to be here, as her being willing to stay. None of which were true. If there was ever a girl stubborn and strong-willed enough to convince the Hogwarts staff to let her switch into her true House of Slytherin, it was Kahira Valerian. Except all of her attempts at being Transfigured from a badger to a snake over the past few days had failed, which meant Kahira had to cook up a new plan. Since the lass had wanted to play Beater for, well, ages, she often found that target practice was the best way to calm a furious mind enough to parse out solutions to her problems; as such, early in the morn on the fifth of September, she could be found just outside the Quidditch training pitch (the doors were locked, and she didn't know how to get in to actually access any of the supplies), whacking crumpled balls of parchment at the wall of the stadium with a custom-bedazzled Beater's bat she'd been gifted for her eighth birthday. Fat lot of good it would do her now, unless... |
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| kahira valerian second gen | _____________________ | shop | ___________________ |