Urgh.48 hours after her fall from her broom, Casey was not feeling the whole arm-in-a-sling thing. It was still bruised darkly, though the swelling was getting better near her shoulder, but her collarbone was still fairly angry looking. Though, the witch was thankful that her shoulder would be fine, and grateful she had a slew of potions sitting in her kitchen to help healing go that much quicker, but it didn’t make her frustration any less poignant. It seemed like anything she tried doing either used her injured arm under normal circumstances or needed both hands. The ex-Hufflepuff had practiced for a moment like this before, not wanting to be caught out, but it was much more annoying in reality than it was in practice. One thing that was in her favor was the weather, it meant that she could get by with a tank top and shorts and bare feet. The thought of having to wrestle with winter clothing in a sling made her shudder.
The witch had tried to remove the sling in favor of productivity but had been met with a very terse set of paper crane memos that had materialized out of thin air. The writing within was in her father’s neat cursive. They’d appeared only moments after she tried sliding the strap that held the sling in place off of her shoulder just an inch.They read:
No.Stop it.Padraigin. Casey. Regan.Put it back. As she read and crumpled the last crane, tossing it in the direction of her wastebin the blonde witch huffed and shoved the strap back into place. Her father must have charmed the sling so that he was alerted any time she tried to remove it, or he’d set it so that the notes would generate on their own. And she knew him well enough that trying to remove the charm would only make things worse. She couldn’t really blame him, he was her doctor, technically, and she was a notoriously bad patient.
The problem was, she’d been hoping to take the sling off in order to cast Riddikulus on the Boggart who had taken up residence in her bedroom closet. It was not the kind of surprise the witch wanted at 3 AM before she had to report to the pitch at 5 AM for a light workout while the rest of the team practiced. She’d opened her closet door only to have the box with the human heart in it from her 7th year pop out at her. There had been lots of cursing and a broom involved after that.
She’d broken down and owled for a pest control agent to come out and get rid of the damned thing. A neighbor had recommended the wizard and Casey was sold. Whoever could make the Boggart go away was fine with her.
Casey’s apartment was neither small nor large, but it helped that the windows it had let in a fair amount of sunlight. There was one bedroom, one bathroom, a small kitchen, and a living room and a closet or two. The space was decorated more or less as it had been when she rented it, neutral colors throughout though she had added some plants and some string lights, and had crossed out the nameplate on her door that read “Padraigin Regan†so that it read “Casey Regan†instead after people kept getting confused. It was otherwise a neat space, though not compulsively so. Though it was clear to anyone that a Quidditch player lived there.
One wall had various pictures of her at various ages and in quidditch robes of various colors. Pictures of the extensive Regan clan dotted another wall, while the far wall had a small muggle television set against it and held her Hufflepuff jersey folded so her name and number were on display in a frame just above it. Brooms were tucked into corners along with workout equipment, and an odd Quaffle or two sat on the floor. Her bedroom was much the same, save for the fact that the Quidditch items there were her current robes, and brooms.
Just as Casey was wondering if she should have organized more, she heard a knock at her door. Casey crossed the small living room and pulled open the door, shifting awkwardly as she stepped into view after using her opposite hand to open the door. She half expected it to be Tau, bugging her about talking to Harlan Bellamy, Captain of the Gravesend Griffins. But instead she found herself face to face with a wizard she didn’t recognize, although he looked familiar in that way she couldn’t place. She offered him a bright smile “Hi, you must be here for the Boggart?†She asked hopefully, not in the mood to make small talk with strangers just then, even if he was an attractive stranger.
When he’d confirmed in a deliciously American accent, or that’s at least where she thought it was from? That he was, she stepped aside and invited him in “Can I get you a glass of water or anything?†She offered, unsure what he’d want or need to know beyond the obvious. Then it dawned on her, she did know him from somewhere, but couldn’t remember where “Sorry, this is going to sound weird, but we’ve met before, I think?†Yeah, this week just kept getting better and better.
@Ashley Morigan