"Fire!" Chandler nearly yelped, but with all his years in the library, it was second nature to turn everything into a whisper. "Fire?" he whispered, again, and looked down at Wendy in great confusion.
Except now he was looking at Wendy and he felt like throwing up. Oh, oh God---he really hoped he didn't throw up. That would be entirely counterproductive in his scheme to not annoy her in any sort of fashion for the past six years---avoiding her completely had helped this goal, greatly. Chandler gulped, feeling sweat already begin to build up on his forehead, and he winced in the great pain this terrifying situation was bringing him. So---he just turned, realizing that the fire comment was a joke and he was part of a joke and--oh, this was horrendously horrible.
"The quidditch periodicals are here," he said, taking in quick, shaky breaths. This was much harder than he ever would have imagined; not finding the periodicals, thatwasveryeasy, but this whole speaking to Wendy for the first time in years thing. In his fantasies (of which he had many), Chandler imagined he'd be riding something like a white steed, and she would have daisies in her hair and swoon at the sight of him and---
---he really needed to stay out of the fantasy section.
"But--but for what you need, I think," Chandler pushed up on his tiptoes, trying to get a good idea of where he'd have to cast his spell. He spotted the book and flipped out his wand, summoning it easily, "Is the special edition: Quidditch Throughout the Ages: The Champions." The book was huge and heavy, so he held it before attempting to drop it into her tiny arms and maybe crushing her.
"There's a detailed report about every championship match in recorded quidditch history and------yes."
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