Hufflepuff Common Room
 

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Once you get through the barrels you will enter a very warm and comfortable common room. The Hufflepuff common room is decorated in the gold and black of the house colors with the walls a nice warm honey with an accented black line in the middle of each wall. The fire place on the end brings warmth in the winter to all that sit in the over sized comfy couches and chairs. Black and gold beanbags sit along the wall for anyone wanting to study in groups as well as two larger badger stuffed animals that are the best to use as a pillow if you are lounging on the floor.

On the far left wall right in between the two openings that lead to either the boy or girl dorms hangs a portrait of Helga Hufflepuff, while smaller portraits of famous Hufflepuffs can be found scattered around the other walls. Sitting on a table you can find a small radio for any puff that wants to relax and enjoy some music together.

Whether you are here to study or make memories with friends the common room is always a great place to sit back and relax after a long day of classes.

Honestly, Florrie wasn't an autumn fan at all. She loved summer and winter, but the inbetween that was autumn was just not a vibe. With a cosy jumper on (that was plucked from the closet of one Misa Couture - the perks of a best friend with an autumnal wardrobe), Florrie headed to the Common Room from her dorm.

Spotting Mamie, she proceeded to flop onto the couch closest to her, getting a strange sense of deja vu. "Can you do the splits?" she asked lazily, pulling a bottle of nail polish from her bag. Because this was pretty much the exact spot where she'd properly met Flynn and he'd been doing just that.

Blah blah blah, wizard's chess, blah blah, abraxans...when would they get to Quidditch? The good stuff. Stretching only involved so much of her brain, after all. At Florrie's appearance, however, Margaret grinned and reached up to turn down the radio. "No, I can't do the splits," she said, frowning at the...perhaps unsurprising question, given her stretching position. "Can you?" She didn't think Florrie was the gymnast sort, but people surprised her every day.

"This is as split as I get," she added, stretching a bit more to demonstrate. If only she hadn't quit ballet, maybe she'd be closer. Maybe she could find time for it next summer. Between Quidditch and whatever tutoring her parents forced her into.

Unscrewing the lid and balancing the bottle somewhat precariously on the arm of the chair, Florrie watched Mamie as she slowly applied polish to her nails. She winced a little as Mamie asked her, shaking her head. "No way, even the idea hurts," she replied automatically. The only sports she did were skiing, snowboarding and a bit of swimming - none of which required that level of flexibility.

Focusing on her nails for a moment, it was only when Mamie spoke again that she looked up. "Oh, wow. That's way further than me." Which made sense, because Mamie was stretching.

Somewhat done with stretching (if she wasn't listening to non-Quidditch sports, what was the point?), Margaret pulled her legs in and leaned back on her elbows. "Thanks?" She thought the comment was a compliment, at least.

She peered over at Florrie. "What color are you doing?" And, the unspoken question--would she share her nail polish?

It most definitely was a compliment, because the six year was truly impressed, given that just the sight of it was enough to cause her pain. Florrie smiled wide at Mamie before turning her attention back to her nails, blowing on her fingers lightly before wiggling them in the younger girls direction.

"It's like a forest green, with shimmers. What do you think?" She eyed the nails herself for a moment, before casting a drying spell (thank Merlin for magic) and grabbing a few more bottles from her bag. "Want me to do yours?"

Margaret scooted closer, the better to see Florrie's nails. "That's really pretty," she said. She looked down at her own nails, with their chipped nail polish, and folded her hands into fists to hide the messiness. "Oh. Mine?" she blinked for a moment, then shrugged. "Yes please, though, um, do you have remover?"

With a grin at Mamie, Florrie pulled her wand back out and silently summoned her remover from her dorm. It whizzed over within a minute, and she was secretly smug - it was only recently that she'd mastered the silent accio, and it was still the only spell she could perform non-verbally.

"Here," she said, handing the remover to Mamie before rummaging in her bag for a few other colours. "Take that off and pick a shade."

Whooooaaaaa. Margaret was always in awe when people used non-verbal spells like it was no big deal. Also, using magic for something useful instead of just practicing in class was exciting. She smiled widely at Florrie as she took the remover.

Carefully removing her old chipped nail polish, she looked at Florrie's color choices. Nibbling her lip a bit, she shrugged. "Can I have the same color as you?" Because who wouldn't want to be like Florrie?

Honestly, Florrie lived for the moments when she could impress. She cared about Mamie, but it would be a lie to say a big part of her relationship with the younger student was based on the fact that for some reason Mamie seemed to admire her. When she doubted herself, which was an increasing habit as of late, it helped to remember that.

And look in the mirror. Most of the time, that helped, too.

She grinned at Mamie and rolled the bottle between her hands. "Sure!" With a grin, she beckoned for the younger girls hand.

Impressed or impressionable...regardless, Margaret really did adore Florrie. She didn't treat her like a little kid, either, like some of her older friends did. And also, Florrie knew everything. She was a m a z i n g. Coolest sixth year girl, for sure.

She held out her hand for the sixth year. "I like this color," she said, again. She really did, and she especially liked that she'd get to match Florrie.

"It's pretty, isn't it?" Florrie said as she unscrewed the lid of the polish. "I'm not usually a shimmery person, but I think it works well with the dark colours." Taking Mamie's hand in hers, she started to gently paint her nails, dipping the brush back into the pot to replenish the colour every so often.

"Did you speak to Blake about hanging out?" she asked with a small smile. Imagining the boys reaction to that was so amusing, given that every time she'd spoken to him he'd seemed terrified. Which was right, in Florrie's opinion - he'd not exactly been treating Mamie perfectly, and first relationship or not, Florrie wanted him to know that if he hurt her, she'd hurt him.