Gloria didn’t notice the fog that day until she stepped out of the castle.  Ordinarily she would have taken note of the weather right off in the morning, but today she’d made a concerted effort to be a studious little Ravenclaw, keeping her head buried in textbooks and parchments up until it was time for the match.  Such work clouded her head worse than the fog clouded the pitch.  The real fog though – the damp fluffy kind outdoors – this was exciting in a way that no text book could ever be.  Gloria loved the fog.  She wouldn’t mind being lost in it for hours , reveling in the creepy mystery of altered vision in familiar spaces.  

She might well have gotten that wish if she’d not wandered into a stream of students heading out to the stadium.  They turned out to be Slytherins, however, which she discovered upon attempting to find a seat among them.  Pulling her scarf up around her cheeks, Gloria hurried off to find more friendly territory.  She seemed to have turned the wrong way, though, because she passed through the Hufflepuffs and the Gryffindors and walked almost all the way around the stadium before she finally found the Ravenclaws.  Huffing with the exercise of climbing about so much, Gloria sank into the first available seat and loosened her scarf, squinting out into the fog.  

“Has anything started yet?” she asked anybody in general.  “I don’t see how they are going to play in this without killing themselves.”



Gloria Watkins