The crowds migrating through the halls to their respective classes were held up by several people. A few students had taken their personal problems into their own hands and were having a duel in the middle of the corridor. A small crowd had gathered around them but what was really holding them up was the girl knelt down tying the shoelaces of her cherry red knee-high boots. She rose up slightly and pulled her custard colour socks back up to their original height before they’d fallen down. She pulled down her skirt which had hiked up to her hips and looked about herself, her cheeks flushing pink. She pushed back the lots of hair that had escaped from her hair-band and continued down the corridor towards the Defence against the Dark Arts room.
Philippa was the name of the Hufflepuff girl wearing cherry red boots and custard coloured socks. As she strode down the corridor she felt a sense of anticipation rise up within her and an involuntary smile spread across her face. Philippa adored Defence against the Dark Arts and the Professor made it oh so better. Professor Wilson was, in Philippa’s opinion, gorgeous. Pippa doubted though, that many people agreed. In fact, some probably disagreed profusely. Philippa didn’t care much for the opinion of others, not anymore. She was a Hufflepuff, a Muggleborn and an eccentric. If people had a problem with that then that was fine. They didn’t have to talk to her if they didn’t want to. Philippa liked her seclusion.
Reaching into her bag, Philippa took her camera from it. She held it up into the air and snapped a picture of the animated paper aeroplanes. Grinning, Philippa brought the camera down to look at the screen and nudged open the door with her hip. She looked up from the camera and jumped when the door slammed shut behind her. Philippa glared at the door over her shoulder before turning her attention to the classroom. Her eyes fell first on the students gathered. Gryffindors by the looks of them, oh and one Ravenclaw.
Philippa pursed her lips and took her eyes off of the Ravenclaw’s dark head. Her eyes swept over the class and fell on the Professor at the front. Philippa smiled sweetly and greeted the man, “Hello Professor Wilson,” she said, her voice taking a silky, sultry edge, “How are you today?” Philippa walked down the middle aisle and took her bag off of her shoulder. Her clunky boots made loud thumps against the wooden floorboards but she paid it no mind and dropped the bag underneath the table before pulling her chair out and taking her seat. She put the camera down on the table after pushing the zoom in and took her wand from her pocket. Philippa tucked her wand behind her ear and dropped her hands into her lap. “Did you have a good weekend?” she chirped happily.