(no subject)
Who: Abigail Wellings.
What: Investigating.
Where: Great Hall.
When: After Dinner.
This Post Is: A tag to Luna, and anyone else who feels like joining or cameo-ing.
Abigail adjusted her hat, holding a magnifying glass in one hand and her wand in the other. The problem with investigating something that you didn't know about was that you didn't know where to look. She had taken to interrogating random people and looking around for a clue, any clue. Currently, Abigail was examining the post that Dumbledore and McGonagall had left up, hoping to find a clue in between the words. So far, she was not having the best of luck, but Abigail remained confident that something helpful would pop up.
"Hmm," she said to herself, poking the parchment with her wand.
This only succeeded in setting the center of the paper on fire. She made to grab a nearby third year's pumpkin juice, but was relieved to see that the paper had regenerated. "Whew." She drank the pumpkin juice thoughtfully. Dumbledore was a crafty one.
"Hey, that's mine!" the third year cried. Abigail looked at him apologetically, and then into the pumpkin juice. "Oh, right. I'm sorry." She handed the glass back to him and turned her attention to the notice once again.
What: Investigating.
Where: Great Hall.
When: After Dinner.
This Post Is: A tag to Luna, and anyone else who feels like joining or cameo-ing.
Abigail adjusted her hat, holding a magnifying glass in one hand and her wand in the other. The problem with investigating something that you didn't know about was that you didn't know where to look. She had taken to interrogating random people and looking around for a clue, any clue. Currently, Abigail was examining the post that Dumbledore and McGonagall had left up, hoping to find a clue in between the words. So far, she was not having the best of luck, but Abigail remained confident that something helpful would pop up.
"Hmm," she said to herself, poking the parchment with her wand.
This only succeeded in setting the center of the paper on fire. She made to grab a nearby third year's pumpkin juice, but was relieved to see that the paper had regenerated. "Whew." She drank the pumpkin juice thoughtfully. Dumbledore was a crafty one.
"Hey, that's mine!" the third year cried. Abigail looked at him apologetically, and then into the pumpkin juice. "Oh, right. I'm sorry." She handed the glass back to him and turned her attention to the notice once again.