<div class="floatleft">(http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lzcw0rncSe1r7wrq1o1_250.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Jamie Campbell<br/><strong>House/ Year:</strong>Slytherin/ 6th year<br/><strong>Bloodtype:</strong>Muggle-born<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Great Hall, Standing near the Hufflepuff table<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Xavril, Rhorvald, open<hr/><br/>It was growing difficult to hear anything at the table since the noise from Gryffindor threatened to pour out of the hall. Soon enough though it came to an end, and she resumed eating her sausage with an indifferent look on her face. She did manage to see Rhorvald respond as expected to her actions. Predicable as sheep. His smile sent a shiver down her spine, but back home, there were many weirdos although most were not of magical ability like the one staring down at her. Her green eyes flickered with a moment’s hesitation before she licked her lips slowly then smiled back at him.<br/><br/>It actually surprised her would Xavril reacted so vehemently to her question since it was not intended to be offensive. Yet, her bluntness never sat right with everyone. She reached across the table, picking up the goblet, and took another sip of the juice. It was so tempting to try and turn it into wine since she needed something much much stronger to not snap in the middle of dinner.<strong> “I was asking due to your humming.”</strong>She did not know if her explanation would be satisfactory or not but it did not seem to matter.<br/><br/>Xavril then took that moment to demonstrate his abilities. It always confused her on how one shifted so liberally without even tearing their clothing. Must have been some type of magical enchantment. As Xavril began to demonstrate his inner animal at the table, her appetite nearly went away. Just nearly. She looked away from the rest of the spectacle as her interest began to wane. An arched brow arose upon hearing Xavril’s question, and she spared a glance back at him.<strong>“None at all. Even if I did, I doubt you would answer them seriously.”</strong>There was no malice in her tone only expectancy. With a small pout, she glanced about the hall and noticed the conversation between Basil and John. Likely talking about Quidditch. Jamie did not actually care for the sport. The only reason she could see herself joining was to become a beater and vent out her frustrations on the field. With a quiet yawn, she stretched out her legs underneath the table, feeling a little antsy in her seat.