"Neither have I." Lacerta hadn't been fond of sitting in the sun like some sort of lizard. "But it's beautiful."
"I wonder if the boys have the same thing."
"Perhaps. We can ask," she suggested.
Millicent nodded, and then she smiled. The girl gazed into the deep for another few minutes, silent as the various fish and creatures swam about.
Lacerta thought she could spot a mermaid or two, but they were far off, and she imagined her eyes were playing tricks. It'd been quite the day.
"Well," Millicent finally said, her tone a touch hesitant, "I'll see you at breakfast in the morning. I'll try to keep Goyle and Crabbe from sitting near you. They've got bad manners, and worse hygiene."
"Thank you."
Millicent was off then, and she felt the urge to get settled and changed.
Lacerta had a feeling the others would want to retire soon, too.
It was, after all, their first night... and as was usual of her nights, she desired a book. She was fond of reading for however long it took for it to be a struggle to keep her eyes open. It was an easy and enjoyable way to make sleep come, and with a new room and a new bed, she wanted to ensure her mind was occupied with something familiar.
But the books about her hero Harry had lost their appeal in no small part.
They weren't realistic; not his portrayal, not his person, and not the things they spoke about.
It was upsetting. All that time she'd spent reading about him, learning and imagining him, and all of it was wrong.
Not only that, but she felt embarrassed and almost... ashamed.
Her cheeks had warmed, and her ears felt hot.
But the more she thought about it, she found she didn't mind the boy he'd actually turned out to be. There was kindness, and a shy energy that was cute. Then there was the dark, unruly hair atop his head, and those eyes of his were bright and full of life.
She'd need to get to know him. The real him.
And so she would.
Lacerta fell into bed and found a book on potions in-hand. She'd barely gotten through the second page before sleep had taken her.
"I was beginning to wonder if you would wake."
"Hm?" Lacerta, only just awoken, had trouble understanding, and the world felt blurry. Then there was the matter of her hair; it was entirely too mussed, and it blocked her vision. Then there were the two or three ends that'd found their way in her mouth.
Apparently, the rest she had here hadn't been as peaceful as at home.
"Lacie," It was Pansy, she'd concluded, and right as a hand shook her by the shoulder.
She groaned and slapped at it, and the other girl scoffed.
"You're such a child."
"Am not," she mumbled, and she rolled over, her back facing her friend. "Sleep. Want."
"Oh no you don't," Pansy warned. "It's morning. Seven o'clock. I don't want to miss breakfast, and I'm not going alone."
Lacerta groaned again, and nuzzled the pillow. "Greengrass."
"Left thirty minutes ago with Bulstrode and Davis." Pansy, finally having had enough, hopped onto the bed with her, and grabbed her shoulder.
With a bit of a scuffle and tugging, Lacie found herself sitting up, her eyes squinting at the light, and her hair a mess.
"What a sight," Pansy said. "If this was the Manor, Aunt Cissie would be giving you a lecture about looking proper and keeping a clean appearance."
"You're unbearable." Lacerta pushed back the sheets, and kicked those pale legs of hers out from the bed. "I hope you're aware breakfast lasts until eight-thirty. You woke me up far too early."
Pansy scoffed. "You still have to bathe and dress. That's thirty minutes more. Then there's the walk — now come on."
The other girl had taken hold of her wrist and had begun pulling her along.
"You're a nightmare," Lacerta muttered.
"But a wonderful nightmare," Pansy replied, and her smile was wide and bright.
They were lucky the bathrooms were unoccupied; it made bathing and dressing easier and faster. Her hair, however, took as long as it usually did. She wasn't the type of witch that'd settle on one, lazy charm, and she'd certainly not use any Muggle products like most people seemed fond of. There were standards in both fields, and Mother had taught her and Pansy both just as Aunt Cissie had.
Pansy was always so patient, and helped her, even though she knew the other girl would have preferred nothing too intricate.
But, unfortunately, Lacerta found French braids and other such styles far more attractive, and she had no desire to change that.
"I don't understand," Pansy huffed, her hands working diligently to tame the wild hair after they'd done the proper — starting — charms. "How do you find any enjoyment in this?"
"It's soothing," she said. "I like having my hair played with and styled, and I like looking pretty. And, if I can't make the effort to have my hair styled, then what am I doing?"
Pansy hummed, and didn't disagree.
Lacie smiled and let the other girl work.
When the bathroom was finally empty, and her hair was properly brushed, and done, she left. Pansy had left a while earlier, and she had a feeling the girl had gone to the common room, and waited.
She had a tendency of doing that when they were back at home; reading by the hearth or playing with her wand, waiting.
Sometimes, when they were especially little, Lacie would find the girl sleeping in a chair.
Lacie had a feeling it'd become a habit since then. It was comfortable, be it here or at home where the furniture was a touch more grand.