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Studying had turned into one of Jordyn’s least favorite activities.  There were so many other things to do now, and so many people to see.  She was constantly on the lookout for Etienne and Seraphin, not that she let anyone else know that, but she looked.  There were others too, some of the Durmstrang boys were good looking, but they were nasty.  They lacked the charm of Beauxbatons.  Jordyn liked charm.

She disliked charms though. 

Here she was, sitting on the couch, curled up with her charms book on her lap.  Jordyn let out a deep breath, resting her elbow on the arm.  Looking up from the book, she glanced around the common room.  There weren’t many people around, it was getting late, so the younger students were gone, and the older ones were lingering around.  Everyone seemed to be actually productive – even the few playing wizard’s chess weren’t disturbing anyone. 

Maybe that was the problem: it was too quiet. 

Unfurling her legs from under herself, Jordyn, she stretched her arms above her head.  Gracie was sitting across from her, presumably studying as well, though she couldn’t be certain whether or not she was paying any more attention than Jordyn was. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever had a night I wished I was on duty,” she smirked, rolling her shoulders and finding a new, more comfortable position to sit in, before she froze the way she was and couldn’t get up at all.  “How’s studying going for you?” she motioned to her book, hoping distraction was what Gracie was looking for as well. 

“Fabulously,” was Jordyn’s reply, accompanied by a final-sounding thud. Gracie’s tone—though as dry as a desert—was warmly set off by a tired grin; the book she’d just shut was her own Charms textbook, which was then set down in the vacant spot beside her. “So fabulously, in fact, that there’re no words to describe this insane headache I’ve got now. Pages thirty-six through seventy-seven,” she said with a sagacious nod of her head, before cracking a grin. “If it hasn’t done the same to you, Jordy, color me impressed.”

It probably went without saying that if studying wasn’t the diligent prefect’s favorite thing, then it most definitely wasn’t Gracie’s, whose own academic drive was rather… lacking… in comparison. Though she was rather good at Charms, it wasn’t her favorite subject, nor even among the top three; those were Transfiguration, DADA, and Runes. And as for the class, well…

Professor Kesali was okay—if a bit strange—but he didn’t have Professor Storm’s presence or Professor Frasier’s bum. Made a girl regret snubbing Muggle Studies, it did, now that she thought about it.

“Dunno if I was even reading the right pages,” she supplied cheerfully, looking all too pleased about taking another break from it all. The last one had been a scant ten minutes ago, taken on the fly and celebrated with a nap. She eyed Jordyn’s discarded copy slyly. “What, taking a breather already?”

A low, tired chuckle bubbled from Jordyn's chest, rubbing her own temple at the suggestion that a headache had formed.  "Just a small one, like a doxie buzzing behind my eyes," she closed both of her eyes momentarily, stretching out her legs, arms, and ticking her neck to the side just enough to get that satisfying crack-pop of a joint that one needed after extended periods of craning one's head over a book. 

It was a familiar feeling, but when Jordyn didn't even want to study, it was laborious.  Her back hurt and her neck was achy, things she would have readily complained about to Neely or Fergie.  Unfortunately, both were no where to be found, and Jordyn liked to keep up her appearances around some of the other Slytherins.  She liked Gracie, respected her, but trust was hard to come by with Jordyn Dimbleby, and she wanted to be absolutely certain about whom she was giving information to. 

"You were," Jordyn answered Gracie's somewhat unasked query, hoping that it would at least vindicate some of the hours they spent reading them.  "And still, thirty-three pages to go!" she laughed, already in better spirits without the damned book on her lap.  She just wasn't in the mood or mind for books right now. 

Of course, a feigned scoff met Gracie's next comment and Jordyn flipped her hair.  "Ah yes, three hours into homework is much too soon to take a break! It's at least four, or you're a lazy vagrant - isn't that what Austerlitz would say?" she laughed, remembering the history of magic professor.  She was a tough woman, hell bent on destroying their lives with homework, though Jordyn did recognize she learned quite a bit from her.  "Perhaps we should ask some of our German classmates their minimum study hours?" she offered with suggestively raised eyebrows.  Some of them were quite attractive - but cold, certainly. 

Perhaps, though, it was not the right time to be thinking about boys (though, Jordyn reasoned in her head, wasn't every time a good time to think about that subject?).  No, most assuredly not.  She turned her eyes back to Gracie, "What about you, eh?  I don't exactly see Bagshot levels of scholarship going on over on your couch," she smirked, glad for a break that was at least amusing! 

Gracie snorted, and proceeded to wiggle down along the length of the sofa like an eel. “Studying isn’t my thing,” she supplied easily, locking her hands behind her head. And it was true; while the girl had no problem with looking things up beforehand, studying for the sake of studying was too damn tedious. There were some nights that she woke up face-first in text, the words swimming around on her skin… Though, it depended on what she was reading at the time, of course. Charms was pretty iffy that way.

But boys, on the other hand… “If it’s scholarship you want, then maybe we should head over to the library,” she countered, grinning at the prefect slyly. “Last I heard-” as she’d passed by a gaggle of skirts and giggles huddled by the shelves, anyway, “-a few of our German classmates have been going there for some peace and quiet. Studious bunch, the lot of ‘em.”

And, same as Jordyn, she found some of them attractive as hell. It was almost a shame she was happy with what—who—she already had.

Almost.

“Beauxbatons has a bunch of pretty faces, too,” she hummed thoughtfully, recalling a few of the ones who’d caught her eye. There was Monsieur Berry Chest, a swarthy-skinned fellow named Alain Something-or-other she’d found in the courtyard, another called Iven, and… “That other champion,” she uttered, thinking aloud. “Olivier.”

She smirked. “Very nice eyebrows, that one.”

It was no secret that Jordyn was a bit of a nerd - if that was the appropriate word.  She studied hard, wanted to achieve a level of academic dominance.  Granted, she knew how hard it was with so many talented witches and wizards around her to be on top, but she didn't want to look stupid.  Jordyn had a reputation to uphold, and one that couldn't be tarnished, especially with visitors lurking in every hallway and classroom.

Another fact of Jordyn's existence was that she was very aware of how people perceived her.  Her hyper awareness of her own status was both a help and a hindrance.  She didn't really have questions as to where she stood, but it was all consuming in an almost terrible way.  She had begun making her own clothes when she couldn't afford the latest fashions just to fit in with the crowd she ran with.

Her parents, for all of their pride, were doing very little to push the Dimbleby name back into prominence.  Apparently, admitting the problem even existed was too much to bear.  Thus, Jordyn wore creations of her own, and thanked Merlin that she had an eye for it. 

But, back to the thoughts at hand, she reminded herself, a smirk played over her lightly painted lips, humming with approval. "I could be persuaded to... take a field trip, of sorts," she giggled, thinking of some of the more attractive German students.

They certainly didn't have the charm of Beauxbatons, and seemed far more aware of blood and social status, which was a detriment for someone like Jordyn, who was the resident half-blood with no money at all.  Breathing a deep sigh, she thought of Beauxbatns - they proved much more charming.

Eyebrows rose as Gracie seemed to muse the very name that went wih the face that danced across Jordyn's mind.  "Seraphin?" she echoed, trying desperately not to grin.  "I don't think it's just his eyebrows," she chuckled softly, thinking about how he was tall, and had a charming smile, and his eyes - oh! Seraphin Olivier was just... a knockout.  A total pureblood dream with connections to die for, but far out of Jordyn's league.  He was charming, she had the chance to meet him several times, but even in her fantasies, she recognized it was a pipe dream. 

Of course, she threw a sideways glance at Gracie, "Your cousin is particular friends with him," her smile muted, "Etienne, though shy, seems to have his own charm.  And Medici is very handsome, though his attitude suits Durmstrang more than Beauxbatons," she pointed out, thinking of the stiff Italian with his high expectations. 

“Medici’s stiff as a board,” Gracie said, making a face. That one was handsome enough, with the elegant features and his own freakishly interesting eyebrows (-a French thing, she presumed), but almost every time she’d glanced at him he’d been giving something—or someone—non-Beauxbatonian a good view of his nostrils. Not nearly so attractive, in her opinion. “I bet if you spilled even a drop—a drop—of soup on his sleeve, he’d pitch a fit.” And he’d been the only one not to get his box—had fallen for the first trap, even.

Now, Étienne, on the other hand…

She was careful to smooth her expression into a neutral one. It wasn’t that she disliked him, exactly, but… she didn’t particularly like him much, either. What bothered her the most, really, was that she couldn’t pinpoint why. “Étienne’s alright,” she agreed, briefly smoothing her bangs down over her eyes. The grin she flashed at Jordyn then was toothy, easy. “I probably know about him as much as you. We just met this summer.”

With lofty, cheerful arrogance, she added, “If he’s really Olivier’s friend, then I’m not surprised. Charm does run in my family, after all.

“Now,” she said, sitting up abruptly, “you know what? I feel like taking a walk now.” Rising to her feet, she went over to the girl and flashed her an innocent smirk, one hand propped on her hip and the other one held out in offering. “Care to join me?”