Where: A corridor
Disclaimer: Might get kinda colorful, heads up!
Two feet of parchment on the social impact on wizards of the 17th century goblin wars. It was the assignment from hell, and Rose had a sneaking suspicion that Binns didn't bother to read them--and she still hadn't figured out how he managed to grade papers without being able to hold a quill. She'd have just skived off the whole thing except that failing a class would've disappointed her father (inasmuch as anything Rose could ever do would be able to disappoint him, which she knew), and for all her nonchalance about just about everything else in life, the last thing she wanted to do was let him down. In light of that, she was actually going to the library for a change. To study. It was a far cry from the only reason she usually set foot in that old dust trap, which involved lots of secluded nooks and bitten lips in an effort to keep quiet. From the look of the deserted corridor she was taking to get there, half the school was up to their elbows in textbooks, too.
The prospect of spending an afternoon studying was not, of course, an excuse to let oneself look anything but top-notch. The way some girls wandered around so frumpy, you'd think they'd never even noticed they had assets that they could use to their advantage. Pathetic, really. Rose, on the other hand, was aware that she wore the school uniform very well, and McGonagall could scowl all she wanted, but that scarlet lipstick wasn't budging. Hair perfectly curled, tie missing (she had a hunch that Tiberius McLaggen had kept it as a momento yesterday), top few buttons undone. Just becuase History of Magic was drab, it didn't mean she had to be.