Cherry Lips // s. black

-OCTOBER. 3.-

"Ah, you're all wet, you mermaid!"

Carmilla rolled her eyes and then rung out her skirt before she stepped into the dorm.

It was around ten, and she wasn't any dryer than she was when she left the greenhouses hours before.

It had taken Sirius another good hour to remove most of the stains and burn marks from his side of the room while Carmilla ate the chocolate frogs from his robe pockets and told him when the spider floated in his direction so he could escape it's grasp. 

Her dormmates groaned as she trudged across the carpet, her shoes making wet squelching sounds. She sneezed. The curtains were drawn, and the fire was slowly dying out as June packed up paints and Ace muttered something else about merpeople from her bed.

Sass was stretched out in front of the bathroom door, blocking Carmilla's way in.

"Move your cat, June, he hates me." She said. It was Junes turn to roll her eyes as she called Sass over to her bed so Carmilla could take a much-needed shower.

"Why is their soap in your hair?"

"Professor Montgomery made us clean the floor; it was very degrading." Carmilla huffed, putting her shoes in front of the small fire so they would dry for the next day.

"Us?" Ace mumbled. Her blankets were piled high and only a little of her pink hair poked out.

Carmilla was blatantly avoiding the small pieces of rolled up parchment that were continuously hitting the back of her head.

She was seated next to Severus again, who had only side eyed her viciously throughout the lesson, and Charlie sat at the table next to her. Ace was the one pelting her with the scrunched-up paper.

At least three pages out of her Transfiguration book must be on the floor behind Carmilla by now. Besides the fact that she was trying to concentrate on the teacup in front of her, she was only ignoring Ace's pleads for attention because the unceremonious attack was clearly pissing Severus off, and he'd laughed earlier in the lesson when Angela had gotten the answer to one of Professor McGonagall's questions wrong.

Every time another wad of parchment would come their way, he would grit his teeth and perform the spell with an even angrier tone then the last time. Ace must have figured this out as well, because the paper was slowly inching towards him with every throw.

The class was supposed to be turning their little China cups into record players, expanding on the subject of transfiguring smaller things into something much larger, or at least that's what McGonagall said.

A few students were still working on the pillow spell, and only two kids, one from each house had a record player spinning silently on their desk. Charlie had a glass casing over his pink cup, though.

"Good job," she said to him. A screwed-up parchment ball whacked her.

Charlie glanced up and smiled, then shrugged. "I mean, its progress. I think."

"Canticum arca!" Carmilla said for what felt like the millionth time, waving her ivory wand above the teacup in the way you would stir a drink, and the direction the record would spin if the spell worked. Which it did, surprisingly.