Eldin smiled brightly, for once become all too aware of—and all too fortunate for—his advantages in life. He wasn't just a wealthy enough to afford (or rather, have an Uncle willing to buy) his quidditch supplies, but also have an Uncle involved in professional quidditch. Now all he needed was the fog to disappear so he could practice...
"I'd love that," he said warmly, eyeing one of the sparky new quidditch boxes. It always seemed Quality Quidditch Supplies, which wasn't even the highest-quality quidditch supply shop out there, always had supplies which were of higher quality than Hogwarts'. When was the last time they even got new bludgers?
"So," he prompted, glancing over his shoulder at his uncle, "do you have any insider knowledge on the quidditch league's plans for the season post-fog? Are they going to push back the season a few months?" It would only make sense; making the players play a rushed season would only anger everyone.
"I'd love that," he said warmly, eyeing one of the sparky new quidditch boxes. It always seemed Quality Quidditch Supplies, which wasn't even the highest-quality quidditch supply shop out there, always had supplies which were of higher quality than Hogwarts'. When was the last time they even got new bludgers?
"So," he prompted, glancing over his shoulder at his uncle, "do you have any insider knowledge on the quidditch league's plans for the season post-fog? Are they going to push back the season a few months?" It would only make sense; making the players play a rushed season would only anger everyone.
