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Post by Pansy Parkinson on Apr 9, 2008 4:20:44 GMT
*Pansy had, oddly enough, been sat in the library for the past few hours frantically trying to catch up in her Divination homework. She'd put off so long that now she was struggling to get her month long dream study written up. She'd momentarily thought to get a Ravenclaw to do it, but, when it came to her own dreams, she trusted no one else. She'd hate to waste a good hex on an incompetent bird.
Finally finished and ready to meat Draco back in the common room, Pansy had headed back down the stair cases and made her way back toward the dungeons. As she neared the second floor stair case, she pulled her compact from her satchel and checked her reflection. She didn't want to look like she'd just spent hours on homework when she saw Draco. Just as she was about to stow her compact back in her bag, the stairs gave a start to begin changing and she dropped the compact on the step below her.*
"Bloody-fucking-hell!"
*She scowled and stepped down to pick the compact up.*,
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Post by Ginny Weasley on Apr 9, 2008 6:10:17 GMT
Ginny wasn't paying attention to what she was doing. She rarely did, and it often got her into trouble, especially when there were slytherins afoot. Which, in this instance, there were. She had been hurrying up the stairs to her own common room, where she was supposed to be working on her History of Magic homework, which was exactly what she was thinking about as she went--History of Magic, and how much she hated it, how boring it was. She noticed the compact before she noticed who it belonged to and set her books, quills, and parchment on the step above her, bending to pick it up. "Erm, I think you dropped this," she said, not really looking up to see who it was she was talking to.
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Post by Pansy Parkinson on Apr 9, 2008 6:19:12 GMT
*Pansy knew instantaneously to whom the outstretched hand belonged. It was speckled with freckles and she knew as soon as she looked up, the head attached to the arm would be covered in laughable red hair. The arm was far from being girly enough to belong to Ronald, so the culprit must be Ginny. Pansy narrowed her eyes, glanced up to confirm her suspicions, then snatched her compact hastily back from the girl. In a smug voice, she spoke disinterestedly to the girl stood in front of her.*
Don't touch my things, blood traitor. You're not used to touching nice things, you might go into shock and I, for one, do not have time to take you to the hospital wing.
*She pursed her lips and shouldered her satchel after shoving her compact inside.*,
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Post by Ginny Weasley on Apr 9, 2008 7:01:31 GMT
Ginny froze as soon as she heard the familiar voice, and she stiffened, her back straightening and her cheeks flaming--which probably wasn't going to do her any favours in the long run, especially in dealing with Pansy Parkinson. She nearly dropped the compact as if it was on fire and, reaching for her wand, said disdainfully, "Your things probably have all sorts of nastiness on them." Twirling her wand, she added, "Like Draco Malfoy's fingerprints, or a speck of your lipstick. What's that colour called, anyway? Tarty Red?"
It wasn't that she was looking for a fight, really, it was just that she was sick of Pansy Parkinson and Draco Malfoy acting like they owned the school. She wasn't about to lay down and let them say whatever they wanted to, and she was going to make sure they knew it.
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Post by Pansy Parkinson on Apr 9, 2008 7:09:50 GMT
*Pansy let out a laugh as the girl's cheeks turned as red as her hair. She moves her hand inside her pocket where her wand rested, ready to cast hexes if it came down to it. She was not afraid of the Weasley girl. At the poor excuse for an insult was muttered, Pansy smirked and rested one hand on her hip as she looked pitifully upon Ginny.*
What? Jealous that his hands have been on my things and not you? Get used to the disappointment, darling, your life will be full of them. I'd tell you to go shag Potter, but even he won't have you, will he? It must be embarrassing that you're that obvious, Weasley.
*She quirks an eyebrow.*
As for the colour, it's custom made. They had a sale on Weasley Red, 1 knut for 10 tubes. They must be desperate to sell down the stock. I would have bought them, but I have standards. Good news for you, though. Even you can afford that price.
*She smirks and cocks her head to the side.*
Why don't you run along before I decide that you're more annoying than you are pathetic?,
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