<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/5/56/Cleohair.jpg)</div><div class="floatright">(https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/harrypotter/images/e/ea/BeauxbatonsCrestClearBg.png/revision/latest/scale-to-width-down/350?cb=20160630041801)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>NAME:</strong> Esmee Visser (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=299655.msg14656469#msg14656469)<br/><strong>YEAR:</strong> 2nd Year<br/><strong>BLOOD STATUS:</strong> Muggle born<br/><strong>WAND:</strong> 9-1/8” Pine Wood with a Unicorn Hair core<br/><strong>WEARING:</strong> Modified school uni<br/><strong>DATE | TIME:</strong> September 2nd | Evening<br/><strong>LOCATION:</strong> Great Hall<br/><strong>CONTENT:</strong>  Bored as fuck<br/><strong>TAGGING:</strong> OPEN</td></tr></tbody></table><br/><br/><hr/><br/>School.  It was amazing that something could be such a relief and so hated at the same time.  The first days were always the worst.  Crushing guilt as she held her little sisters close and promising them she would be back, praying to God that she would never get an owl saying that something had happened to them while she was gone.  Relief that she didn’t have to watch Sem keep slipping further away.  A week of scruff and food stained t-shirt two days past needing to be changed, sitting and staring glassy-eyed at the television.  Relief that there would not be another screaming match with her drunk of a mother or fighting off her little brother’s lecherous gangbanger friends.<br/><br/>Hatred of the ridiculous pomp and circumstance and ostentatious decadence the wizarding world surrounded themselves with to insulate them from the muggle, the other.  They were all human beings but wizards seemed to act like they were better than, above, like the Chateau that was Beauxbatons.  Hatred of the tedious lessons and silly restrictions of her instructors.  And the uniform.  The fucking uniform.  Esmee reserved a special kind of hatred for the uniform.  What was she a fucking flight attendant at that disaster that was French Disneyland?  Thankfully Esmee could do something about the later.  Her powder blue pumps were tipped in chromed stilettos.  She rolled her skirt so the hem climbed to scandalous levels along her thighs.  Painted butterflies, snakes, zombies and her old pug Scooter splashed color across her skin drawing the eye too its improper length.<br/><br/>Esmee’s jacket was a size too small on purpose.  It hugged her form and accentuated her body instead of hiding it.  Her long brown hair was piled onto her head in a mass of curly blond highlights.  Her hat pinned in place with a rakish tilt.<br/><br/>She was bored silly waiting for the meal to begin.  Waiting on their headmistress’s arrival, because God forbid they do anything without Flora’s gaze over them.  Granted, Flora’s gaze was one of the few things that didn’t bother Esmee.  The headmistress was hot and Esmee had a whole corner of her spank bank dedicated to her, but it was still annoying to wait.  Esmee had been looking elsewhere when Flora finally arrived and she was late to stand her skirt riding high and swirling around her in a tantalizing way.  While others might be ramrod straight Esmee’s knees rocked back and forth slightly as the mistress breezed by.<br/><br/>The announcement of the Tri-wizard tournament sent a murmur through the crowd.  Esmee gave a non-committal shrug.  She was hardly in any danger of being picked and felt certain she would remain stuck at school while other students had all the fun.  As the students around her sucked up and applauded with gusto Esmee clapped slowly, bored by the whole brainless ceremony.  Finally, Flora sat that fine ass down and Esmee flopped back into her seat.  As much as she disdained the gluttonous display she wasn’t stupid.  The food would taste great and she wasn’t going to let it go to waste because that seemed equally dumb.