Her soft slippers swept around the oak floor of her room as she darted from one side to the other frantically gathering skirts, blouses, socks, a coral-pink vile of perfume her aunt had given her, a soft bristled hairbrush, a pair of chestnut colored flats as well as worn mauve Chaser gloves she refused to replace, as they were definately lucky. All of these she threw into an open ivory luggage case on her bed, strewn with other miscellaneous items she'd need to remember to take. White and smokey grey quills with flecks of silver, a few text books with pieces of crinkled parchment peeking out from the vast pages, and a nearly empty container of ink she added quickly before stopping, wondering what she may have forgotten. There was something, definately something... she scratched her head trying to think.
There was a gentle rap on the door.
"It's open," she said remissively, still racking her brain.
Stella stepped into the room wearing a freshly ironed sandy skirt and ruffled white blouse with lacy cream stockings and polished heels- a seamless ensamble, as always. Her ash-blonde hair was neatly pinned back with little pearly clips, matching her simple pearl earrings. Quinn, however, had opted to wear her school uniform, save her robe, as she did not like chainging on the train one bit. Her long hair was simply down, only having bothered to run a brush through it this morning.
Stella choose each step with care as she walked in so as not to tred on her sister's mess, only managing a few feet before she gave up. "Are you almost ready?" she asked, a tinge of impatience in her voice. "Mum and Dad would like to know, and Calvin is about to wet his trousers,"
"Kind of.. I can't think..." she trailed off absent-mindedly, still trying to remember.
"It's no wonder. Look at the mess you keep here, Quinn." Her crinkled nose and pursed fushia lips expressed her evident distaste. Stella had always found the slightest mess intolerable. The very thought of an out of place sock was enough to make her cringe; it was impossible for her to step into her sister's room without trying to minimize the enormity of the chaos. She pulled her elegant mahogany wand from her skirt pocket and began lifting clothes from the floor.
Quinn immediately realized what still needed packing- how could it have slipped her mind? She thought a moment, then remembered it was on her bed, where she had sat practicing earlier. Caught in the tangle of sheets she found it- slender white pine, twelve inches exactly. Quinn slipped it into her pocket and gave it soft pat. She shut her luggage securely, pulled it to the door, and threw her new broom over her shoulder.
"Are you coming, or are you going to stay here and clean?" she asked Stella, who was still persistantly trying to clear a pathway to her bed. She turned and lowered her wand, letting a large floating pile of summer clothes drop.
"I could work an entire year and not get that room clean," she replied as the two hauled their luggage down the steps. It was a difficult task, as the steps wound in places and were fairly steep; her room was at the highest point in their home. Quinn's bedroom was the one part of the house that didnt quite belong; it was messy and average looking, whereas the rest of her home was large, stately, and always neat. Their appearance was a similar matter; her parents, stella, and calvin all had ash blonde hair and brown eyes, except her mother, who was born with indigo eyes. Quinn, however, had waist-length dark auburn hair and her her mother's eyes. The color was often complimented on the rare occasions she made an appearance in the muggle world where it was less common.
"Ready, girls?" Robert Reswyck asked his daughters when they reached the door. He was tall and wore a serious (yet not unkind) expression. Clean-shaven and dressed in fresh onyx robes, he was a neatly composed man, as he held his family to.
"Yes, father," they answered.
Mr. Reswyck set a hand on Quinn's shoulder and said somberly, "Now, Quinn, remember what to tell your friend, Charlie,"
"Yes, but... I have to warn you, I'm not sure he'll accept," said Quinn.
"Of course he will. Who in their right mind would turn down the deal we're offering him?"
You're offering him, thought Quinn.
"Yes, I can see it now," continued Robert, an assured grin spreading his face, a slight glimmer in his dark eyes. "'Charlie Weasley, heart-throb British Seeker, rides only state of the art Nimbus Brooms!' I gurantee they'll love it. And you will be with him as well, dear. This sponsorship will be something!"
"Can we go now? We're going to miss the train!" whined Calvin, pulling incessantly on his mother's hand. He was a firstie this year, and an extremely anxious one at that.
"Be patient, Calvin dear. It won't leave without us," assured his mother in her soothing voice.
"He's right, we should arrive on time," agreed Stella, who would be returning as a seventh year. She took Calvin's hand and extended the other to Quinn, who took it.
"Your friend Charlie, Quinn, don't forget," reminded her father once more before taking her hand.
The five of them apparated and arrived instantly in King's Cross Station then set out to enter Platform nine and three-quarters, each one finely dressed and walking with an aire of class (except perhaps Quinn, who once nearly tripped on her robes, having forgotten to stop in to see Maddam Malkin and have them tailored last week).
Though they came across as an old-money, pureblood family they were, in fact, not. The Reswycks had come into wealth some thirty years ago when Randolph Reswyck, Quinn's grandfather, pattented the now famed Nimbus broomstick in 1967. More recently, Robert has run the bulk of the operation, being head chairman. Strangely enough, only Quinn and her mother, Desta, have taken a real liking to the actual playing of the sport. Desta played nationally for a year before she was blinded in a spell mishap. She was a lovely, ambitious woman who now dedicated herself to bettering the lives of her family, especially in the matters of Quinn's potential professional career. She had inherited her mother's uncanny ability as a chaser, possessing quick reflexes, an able throwing arm, and graceful balance on a broomstick. Most players at Hogwarts scoffed and refused to give her credit, saying she owed her skill to top-of-the-line equipment. However, when learning to fly, her mother had insisted she use the most beaten-down, rubbish broomstick available. Once Quinn had mastered this and switched to a Nimbus, her father had declared her the finest flyer he had ever beheld and swore to someday break her into the league. On top of this, Quinn practiced endlessly to be a fine Gryfindor Chaser.
The Reswycks entered the Platform one at a time then made their way to the magnificent ruby train. Quinn turned to her mother and embraced her.
"Goodbye, mum, I'll miss you- you'll have my first letter in a few days," Quinn promised.
"I look forward to reading it," said Desta with a sweet smile. "Don't forget to make sure Artemis doesn't get into mischief, stay safe, and don't charm anyone with a spell you wouldn't want someone to perform on you,"
"Oh, no, did I forget-"
"I've got her, Quinn!" her brother shouted from nearer the train, holding up Artemis in her carrier, who let out a meow. "Sheesh, how did you ever get along without me here?"
"And do try to be less forgetful dear," she advised. She kissed her forehead. Her mother's sense of awareness often shocked Quinn; though her eyes, now almost completely white with her condition, could not see, Desta seemed to just know where certain things were. The witch could not hope to navigate a shop or walking path, but she always could tell just where her children where, how they felt, when they were near. When she was younger, Quinn had asked her how she knew, and had recieved a soft smile and the response, "It it the breathes you take, the patter of your footsteps on the ground, the sweet smell of your hair, and the laughter in your voice, little one. A mother, even a blind one, always knows,"
"I love you," said Quinn, giving her one last, long hug.
She let go, held her hand, then gently let it fall. Quinn then walked over to say farwell to her father and hugged him as well.
"Goodbye, father." she said as she pulled away.
"See you soon, Quinny," he returned, then gave her a little now-dont-you-forget look.
"I'll see him on the train, and besides i have all year- and he has two to decide," she answered.
"That's my girl," he said approvingly, giving her a grin.
And with her goodbyes all said, all in order, she lifted the final piece of luggage and stepped onto the train, waving goodbye from a window. Her father was holding her mother's hand and they were both waving, smiling proudly.