June handed me seven bulky packages, all tied with a rose-gold ribbon. We grinned at each other like fools in the silence of the hallway before her glee was too much for her to handle.

"I can't believe we're going to meet them!" she squealed, looking like Anthony on Christmas.

I smiled, shifting the packages in my arms. "It's more of a business meeting, June."

"Don't ruin my excitement, Hazel. This is literally the one reason that I wanted to go into broom design."

I feigned shock. "It wasn't because you're amazingly smart and good with designs and engineering?"

She waved me off. "That was just a small part." She clasped her hands together and focused on the white door in front of us. "When can we go in?" She took a couple of steps towards it, reaching her hand to the handle.

Smirking, I released one hand from the brooms to stop her from going any further. "June, unless you want to see a bunch of Quidditch players in nothing but towels and underwear, I advise that you do not go in."

June blinked innocently up at me. "But what if I do want to see the Quidditch players in their towels and underwear? Wouldn't you?" I hit her on the head with one of the broomsticks. She yelped and playfully swatted me away. "Be careful— if that breaks we will be in so much trouble!"

Skeptically I looked at her. "These things have so many charms in them I'd bet one of these against a giant."

"But Hazel, secretly you do want to see the Quidditch players in their towels, right?"

I stared at her. "I will put sharp objects in you."

"That's right— you don't need to see random Quidditch players — you have your own man to look at!"

I gagged. "June! You are acting like a hormonal fifteen year-old! We are on a business trip, and will doing anything other than that, it that clear?"

"Yes, Hazel."

I intentionally did not look at her but could feel her laughing inside. Soon the silence became unbearable, and I turned back to her just as she opened her mouth.

"What?" I demanded.

"What?"

"You were about to say something."

"Was I?"

"I saw you open your mouth, June. Obviously you were about to make another petty comment about either my relationships or Quidditch players."

June blinked innocently. "What was I going to say?"

"I don't know, that's why I'm asking you."

"I don't know."

"You don't know what?"

"What I was going to say."

I narrowed my eyebrows. "Then why were you going to say something?"

"What?"

"What?"

"What are we talking about?"

I gaped at her, contemplating whether the useless conversation should be continued or if I should start knocking her senseless with a broom. Fate intervened, however, as a pudgy, wide-shouldered man opened the door June had been so impatient to enter.

"Miss Farrow, Miss... Malfoy?"

We nodded, and I ignored how the man's tone had gone into a sub-zero temperature when saying my last name. He pushed the door open more, then began to turn around.

"We're ready for you."

The seven members of Irish National stood in a semi-circle around us, watching intently as June and I explained the added benefits of our new broom: the Nova.

"It's brakes are designed to react in the speed of light," I explained, "and it will go from nought to 200 miles an hour in five seconds. It's frame is added with the best Stability spells our departments could come up with, assuring that any impact from Bludgers will not sacrifice your footing for longer than a moment."

"That is," June said, "If a Bludger can even hit you at the speed you'll be traveling."

The assembled Quidditch players laughed.

"So we're the only Quidditch team to have these?" one asked.

"Yes," I said. "The other teams are sticking with their Firebolt Supreme IIIs. It's because Nimbus' fame ended in the mid 1900's with the Nimbus 2001." I smiled. "But with the Nova, we'll be the number one broom designer once again."

The player ignored me, and instead pointed to the bundles I still held. "Can we see them?"

"Sure!" said June, and grabbed them. She handed one to every Quidditch player, making sure to briefly brush against their hands in the process. I would've rolled my eyes, but was too annoyed by the cold shoulder I received from the Quidditch players.

"Nice," remarked a tall, broad-shouldered man. I instantly knew he was one of the Beaters, and brightened at the praise. He twirled it through the air, testing the weight.

At the Beater's short recommendation, the other players joined in a chorus of how they could see the improvements already. A bubble instead of me swelled as I looked at their pleased expressions.

The Nova's birch handle gleamed in the bright lighting, the hazel-colored twigs setting off the glints of silver fastenings and footrests. It was my creation, and a thrill of pride went through me as I saw the endless loads of work I had done magically be worth something.

"This is such a pretty broom," one player remarked. He glanced at June. "Did it take a lot of work to design?"

June laughed, and brushed her hair behind her ears. "Oh, I'm flattered, Mr. Meyer, but I'm not the one who designed it." She gestured to me, who stood, forgotten, in the middle of the room. "My friend Hazel Malfoy did."

Just like poking a hole in a balloon, the praise seeped out of the room. The Quidditch players looked at me through narrowed eyes and sour expressions, my broom was met with suspicion as opposed to praise.

I bit my lip in the face of the silence that stretched out. Slowly, I turned and walked out of the room, back into the spotless hallway I had waited in with hope.

My forehead rested against a wall, as silently, I hated myself for running.

But I hated myself for trying to be something I could never be even more.