While practicing changing a wizard’s chest into a balloon (McGonagall had some weird assignment ideas), she had managed to screw the whole thing up and the spell backfired. Thus her wand seemed to take on the quality of an inflated balloon and had risen to the top of the ceiling in the Hufflepuff common room. She had just about had it with Transfiguration all together. Who needed it? Hmph. It wasn’t like she was going to be a Transfiguration professor when she was older. She hated the subject and would die if she took up a career that was devoted to it.
Hestia collapsed onto the floor, pulling her feet underneath her in Indian style. Releasing a frustrated breath of air she shook her head, “You’re a prat, you know that? Stupid wand. Good for nothing. Hmph. Should just live the muggle way like mum. What do I need YOU for?” Great, now she was talking to herself. She had just lost it all at once, hadn’t she? They’d be shipping her off to St. Mungo’s in no time by the looks of things.
The badger smacked her hands against the ground and stared up at the levitating wand. It was a good twelve feet in the air. Unfortunately for her she was just a little over five feet. Unless a giant walked in, in the next few minutes, she was screwed. “I HATE YOU!”