Twirling her finger like the wand she kept in her robes, Elena meandered down the corridors of Hogwarts near Ravenclaw Tower, intending to try and find a quiet spot to practice her Charms work for the day.
That was, until she tripped, toppling to the floor. She didn’t cry, despite the scraped knee and the bruises she knew would be forming on her lanky body. She merely looked up with resignation at the group of Slytherin girls who seemed to be lying in wait for her.
“‘Fink yer so bloody smart, little ickle Puffie?” one said, “‘Eard you showed up our House.”
With a sigh, Elena merely went looking for a handkerchief to put over her bleeding knee.
"Hey! Listen when we’re talkin’ ta ye, Mudblood!" said another, shoving the First-Year’s schoolbag out of the way with her foot. Elena did not pay attention, and did not speak. It was something she was rather used to.