GOSSIP GIRL. ( remus lupin )

ᴄʜᴀᴘɪᴛʀᴇ ᴜɴ

         ESTELLE DEVEREAUX sat in her seat in the third row of the class, her eyes on her notebook and her hand holding a quill as she scribbled on the parchment sitting before her. She believed she was giving off the impression of writing notes in Ancient Runes, but in reality, she was writing down the latest school gossip that had spreading from student to student, from teacher to teacher, writing for future reference. She believed it would be a useful thing, perhaps someway to blackmail someone if they dared bully her.

Gossip was a fickle thing here.

It shot from person to person, whispers filling the corridors, pointing at the ashamed victim as they walked along. Giggles and insults volleyed over heads and landed on the person, shoving them along and making them run, anywhere from the prying eyes of society. Estelle found it intriguing, she personally thought the gossip made school perhaps a little more tolerable when waking up every morning.

The Gossip Girl.

Estelle gave a pleasurable little snort, attracting the attention of the redheaded girl sitting beside her, Lily Evans. She shot a small smile at her best friend, and the girl smiled back before turning around, leaving Estelle to meddle in her thoughts once more.

They didn't even know if this so-called "Gossip Girl" was even a girl. But apparently since this person likes to meddle in other people's business, they were deemed a girl. It was quite old-fashioned and unfair, at least in her opinion.

According to rumors the Gossip Girl would drop envelopes. Small, little red envelopes that looked peculiarly like the envelopes that contained Howlers. They would drop them, on the person's desk, bed, or in their book bag, demanding something almost impossible to fulfill, leaving the person in obvious distress . . .

Estelle heaved a great sigh in put down her quill, gazing at the droning professor standing at the front of the classroom. Next to her, Lily was scribbling note after note, her long, thick sheet of red hair concealing what Estelle knew was a deeply concentrated face. She sighed again, glancing at the slowly ticking clock above the professor's desk.

Twenty-five more minutes.

A ball of parchment suddenly hit the back of Estelle's head, startling her. She glanced around, and found the ball. It was covered by a very familiar, sharply written handwriting.

Dread and anger filled her as she swept downward and picked up the wad of parchment in one fluid movement.

Scar Girl.

The familiar nickname filled her with rage and she stuffed it into her bag.

As she fished around the bag she felt for the very bottom and pulled out a dark red lipstick, and carefully slathered it on.

RING!

As the bell rang, she righted herself and stood up.

"You go ahead," she said sharply to Lily. "I'll see you at lunch."

The red-haired girl frowned at her but raised no objections. She left with the swift swish of her long red mane.

Estelle made quite a show strapping on her book bag before smiling at the teacher faintly and bidding her a quick good-bye. Once she left the classroom, the smile instantly slid off her face like Stink Sap, and she walked to the Transfiguration classroom, her next class ---- which was also Rita Skeeter's next class.

She peeked carefully inside the classroom and was relieved when Professor McGonagall wasn't there. She strode silently, her heels making calculated steps across the floor and she stopped, like a soldier, as she reached Rita Skeeter's desk.