Like an automated radar, Desiree's head popped up from the window sill of the carriage door when she heard Quidditch. Quidditch! I heard quidditch! We can't lose if i'm beater again. Whooo whee. Desiree cracked her knuckles just remembering smacking the bludger at the Hufflepuff chaser and landing right in his gut, sending the poor buy off his broom. But at the mention of OWLs, the horribe experience deflated her cheery mood. Ugh, that was a horrible experience. From her memories, it wasn't the results she got, buit the months before or forced study. She still shuddered at the thought. Buuut at least thats passed by. Least i can say is do not flop around like me.