Connie

Connie moved gracefully around Hogwarts, as she always does, more sure on her feet than most of her fellow students.

Connie arrived at the Hogwarts gardens, and approaches a pair of rosebushes. Many people admired flowers... but more admired the Indian seventh-year. "Hmmm... I wonder if I could convince the gardener to cut some for me again."

A thrill runs down her spine and she turns around, only to see a couple of guys staring, bulges obvious despite their (theoretically) concealing robes. "Oh, for the love of...Shoo! Get out of here, I'm not interested! Right now, anyway." Connie murmurs to herself as her fellow students hurry away.

Connie is sitting at the lunch table, idly poking at her food, her beautiful face bored. A nervous boy, entranced by her beauty, walks up to her and mumbles out some words, no doubt trying to ask her out.

"Whatever it is, no," she dismissed him curtly and arrogantly, "You're too young for me."

The boy stumbles away, and a few students laugh at the boy's rejection, while the girls glare at her.

Connie turns to the ones who laughed with a dismissing flare, "Oh, so you all think you've got a chance, huh?" she exclaims, standing up, tired, for now, of being drooled over, and stalks off.