Mooorning...

    “Course I do! I got plenty up my sleeve but I ain’t tell you. You’d steal ‘em and take the credit!” 

          she doesn’t possess an excessive amount of skill. in fact, she’s              actually quite average, but in the methods of defense, she’s a quick              learner. strictly speaking, given her background, she was more adept              with her quick reflexes and when it’s her turn to test her mark, she               doesn’t express as much apprehension as many others have. katniss              merely stands at the ready, wand held nimbly betwixt calloused digits.              before coming to hogwarts, she’d spent years perfecting her aim by              way of bow and arrow and considering the target placed before her               now, and the way he fidgeted on his feet, she would make easy work              of this and slide back into calculated anonymity. 

                                            ( she is not impervious, however, to the weasleys’                                               whispering, but she pays it no mind for the time                                               being. a flick of her wand, a quiet assertion of the                                               spell in question and zacharias smith was effectively                                                                                  sent spiraling into the wall. )

             such a shame when their bark turns out worse than their bite. as she              makes her way back toward her place in the crowd, she brushes past              george’s shoulder, her face unreadable apart from a slight quirk of her              lips, but even the purpose of that — be it amusement or otherwise —              is a little hard to ascertain. 

          Eyes widened at the whisper that fluttered past           their ears, tainted with irony and the egg that           belonged on their faces. Her aim really was good.           And George couldn't help the slight grin that tugged           at his lips, despite the slightly scrutiny tainted stares           the boys were projecting downwards onto her.

               “Who said it was a particularly confidential                 conversation?” asked George cunningly, a now                 slyly smirking Fred folding his arms at his side. 

               “Maybe we wanted to be rudely eavesdropped on --”                 “-- Either way, fat lot of good it did --”

sᴇɴᴅ ᴍᴇ ᴀ ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ ᴀɴᴅ I’ʟʟ ʀᴀᴛᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙʟᴏɢ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪs.