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Jul. 18th, 2012 01:53 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
liliales[Hogsmeade is something she usually finds herself looking forward to. Something she links arms with her friends with and spends long hours dragging each other across shops, taking long drinks of butterbeer and talking about classes and other classmates, about purchases. It's a tradition she's had ever since third year with them.
And yet...This one particular occasion is a little different. After half an hour, she's waved them off. She couldn't focus on the conversation, and while this wasn't entirely unsual, it had nothing to do with her school work or her Head Girl duties. Which generally was. She'd been so...Put out ever since she'd discovered James Potter had been Head Boy with her, and she'd have to work with him for the entire school year.
He was as insufferable as he'd always been, arrogance oozing from his every pore and incapable of taking anything she said seriously without adding some sort of come on to it. Except...For one very noticeable difference. But one she couldn't quite put her finger on. Inexplicably he seemed less like the boy she'd known, and more...Well, he'd seemed a little older.
So consumed is she with pondering this out, that she doesn't even really realize she's bumped chest first into the arm of the boy in question. She backs up a step, embarressed and ready to apologize, until his identity registers. Then her eyebrows furrow slightly in irritation]
Sorry, Potter.
And yet...This one particular occasion is a little different. After half an hour, she's waved them off. She couldn't focus on the conversation, and while this wasn't entirely unsual, it had nothing to do with her school work or her Head Girl duties. Which generally was. She'd been so...Put out ever since she'd discovered James Potter had been Head Boy with her, and she'd have to work with him for the entire school year.
He was as insufferable as he'd always been, arrogance oozing from his every pore and incapable of taking anything she said seriously without adding some sort of come on to it. Except...For one very noticeable difference. But one she couldn't quite put her finger on. Inexplicably he seemed less like the boy she'd known, and more...Well, he'd seemed a little older.
So consumed is she with pondering this out, that she doesn't even really realize she's bumped chest first into the arm of the boy in question. She backs up a step, embarressed and ready to apologize, until his identity registers. Then her eyebrows furrow slightly in irritation]
Sorry, Potter.
