Lauren bustled into Professor Light's classroom, her bag thrown carelessly over her left shoulder. Cinnamon-colored ringlets fell messily from the bun that hung loosely at the nape of her neck and, rather than reconstructing the bun, she instead was quite happy simply pushing them away every few seconds. Her robes were slightly wrinkled and tugged back by her bag, exposing a flash of the shoulder of the white blouse she wore underneath. She looked frazzled and disheveled; one look at her face, however, would tell that she was, for a change, immensely calm. After having eaten a slow breakfast in the Great Hall, she had spent her day doing nothing but reading and studying in the Slytherin common room and out by the lake. In the past two years, she constantly found it difficult to unwind and relax, her mind occupied only by the haunting thought of getting dreadful grades and turning in sloppily-done homework, but it seemed as if she was getting the hang of it lately: she had been taking her time walking, reading, copying notes, eating, even getting dressed and doing her hair; she had been not letting herself get stressed about her school or her social life; and she hadn't stayed awake past 1:00AM to do homework any night this week. And she was actually doing better in her classes than she had been before.
Blissfully unaware of her appearance {or, perhaps, aware and simply unconcerned}, Lauren dropped her bag next to an empty desk in the middle of the classroom and slid into its seat, feeling the hard wood catch her back as she relaxed against it. She pulled several sheets of parchment from her bag, along with several books, a quill, and a bottle of orange ink. She set them up in front of her, each one eventually finding its correct place for optimum convenience {old habits die hard - she couldn't be completely careless in one school term}, and then settled back once more in her chair, her arms loosely crossed in front of her, waiting for class to begin. |