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Cinna was only about five minutes into her long-winded rant about why exactly there was no wet t-shirt contest on the agenda when out of the corner of her eye she saw November drag herself out of the water, hand pressed to her side. She assumed swimmer's cramp, and went back to browbeating Leland about how much trouble she'd get into if pictures of underaged girls showing off their boobies at her party got out. Because there would be pictures, there always were, and Facebook was the proof.
A few minutes later (after the rant had turned into why Facebook was a child pornographer's dream) she happened to look back over, and that's when she noticed that November wasn't cramping, she was bleeding.
Cinna's shriek cut through the entire beach, and she leapt to her feet, dragging Leland with her. Quidditch players were good at healing charms-- they had to be, just for the sheer amount of times their noses got broken during games. She was going to get sued and her mom was going to kill her.
A few minutes later (after the rant had turned into why Facebook was a child pornographer's dream) she happened to look back over, and that's when she noticed that November wasn't cramping, she was bleeding.
Cinna's shriek cut through the entire beach, and she leapt to her feet, dragging Leland with her. Quidditch players were good at healing charms-- they had to be, just for the sheer amount of times their noses got broken during games. She was going to get sued and her mom was going to kill her.