txmsnbxrgn.
tamsin raised her eyebrow and gave shiloh a discouraging look, “i’m sure you’ve just been a complete saint all day long.” looking around the empty classroom tamsin made a move to leave before pausing and looking back over at shiloh, “shouldn’t you be in an actual classroom instead of an empty one right now?”
shiloh got it. she understood. she was a young girl from an impoverished, rough area. she had nothing to her name, and it showed. in her clipped, blunt accent, her mannerisms, her clothes, the people she associated with. assumptions were easily made. ( and, to be fair, she was no saint. and more than half the time, she was indeed up to no good. but right then, she wasn’t. she WASN’T, and still, tamsin would likely think she had been. ) and sometimes, even she couldn’t help but let those a s s u m p t i o n s get under her skin. she bit back a less than favourable reply that came to mind ( considering borgin was the head girl ) and forced a smile instead. “nope. i have a free period. i was studying,” she said, rather sharply, and tipped her head to the open book that rested atop a desk. “s’pose you’re not gonna’ trouble yourself chasing up the REAL menaces to hogwarts’ students like meself —- quidditch players ARE untouchable, init?”
