Delicate Magic ► George Weasley

five. see my hand

Iola shifts, speaking softly to the students that vied for her attention, eagerly answering all her questions about the school that she had the thought to ask. The Ravenclaws, as she had come to learn, really enjoyed explaining everything.

They were nice, even as they handed over bits of parchment and books for her to sign, giggling to themselves as they waved it at the other students.

She grins, playing the role of charming sweetheart, even as her patience begins to wain from the constant buzz of their incessant rambling.

Sitting back, Iola looks down the length of the table, shoulder brushing against the fur of someone's Durmstrang cloak as she takes in the Slytherin's that spoke to the visiting school. There was a head of silver, that Draco boy from the World Cup that spoke to Viktor in this possessive sort of way that demanded all his attention.

Grimacing, she decides it's best to just avoid the boy if she could. She wasn't sure if she could deal with that sort of fan.

"Does it have to be so cold in here?" Fleur complains quietly.

"It is not so cold that you ought to be bothered," she replies, turning to her friend. "Would look like for me to get you a cloak?"

"How embarrassing! No, thank you."

"Then, what is the point of complaining?"

Fleur rolls her eyes. "I am hoping that we can get out of here sooner."

"It's not too bad. It's rather nice, actually. Didn't you wish to join the tournament?"

"Of course, I do," she says, as it had no relation to anything she was saying.

Sighing, she leaves her friend to her complaining, facing the Ravenclaw students once more as they offered to show her around the school.

A boy leaned across the table, smiling stupidly at her as he rested an elbow on the table to support his chin. "I can show you around Hogsmeade, just you and me."

The dark-haired boy was handsome, she would admit. Too bad. "Uh, I do not know what that is, but no thank you."

"Leave the girl alone, Doyle, she's not interested," someone snaps, pushing him back by the face.

The small thing took his place, lifting herself in the seat so she was practically lying across the table. "What spell did you use in your last competition? You use silent casting so I couldn't tell, it all ended so quickly."

Iola grins. "Ah, yes, I used the backfiring jinx and Osprey used Confringo while I use the sea urchin jinx. It was not a pleasant experience for him, but it was my quickest win to date," she says, laughing to herself.

"Oh, for sure! They had to call in the healers right away! I was so surprised at the force that had blown him away, and then there was all that blood..." the girl sighs, the noise sounding more like a hum.

"Oui. Osprey accept loss very gracefully."

"Yeah, but I reckon that he's just itching for a rematch."

"I would gladly accept," Iola boasts, adjusting her collar.

The girl's dark eyes pinched with her laughing smile, nose crinkling as her lips pull up into a crooked smile. Her short, choppy hair brushed around her cheeks, bouncing with the tilt of her head and outstretched hand. "I'm Dinah."

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Dinah."

"I know," the girl teased, drumming her fingers on the table. "Say, how do you do that thing with the broom, the swinging by your hands' thing."