Trading Tales [Siobhan]

There were certain things in Siobhan Cassel's life that she had down to a science: how to charm that nit-wit Professor Flick into giving her high marks every single time, giving people backhanded compliments, and most importantly, her hair. Siobhan had taken great care throughout the majority of her life into maintaining the health and beauty of her one-of-a-kind (minus that Evans girl, of course) red hair. It was always shiny, always with right amount of bounce, and often adorned with some sort of hairpiece. It was a fairly lengthy ritual, but it was worth it to achieve the amount of perfection that she did.

First things first, she would woke up and brush her teeth. Then she would go off to take a cold shower (cold showers tightened pores and made hair shinier). When she was done, she would wrap her hair in a towel, do her make-up - the latter of which was a lengthy process in itself - and then so began the daily hair-styling. Never one to resort to Muggle practices, in spite of being half-blood, Siobhan would comb through her hair with a wide-tooth comb and then distribute a de-frizzing potion evenly throughout. Then with her wand she'd blast hot hair onto one-inch sections before sparying her hair with Stay-In-Place Spray from Madame Primpernelle's Beautifying Potions in Diagon Alley. Either she would leave her hair as it was, or add one final touch with a headband, hairpiece, or ribbon. Today, in fact, she had chosen to pin back her bangs with a hair clip in the shape of a flower set with faux diamonds.

She had left the Hufflepuff dormitory in fine spirits this afternoon. Feeling particularly charming and beautimous today, Siobhan felt she could do just about anything. It was rare when Siobhan didn't feel paranoid or judgmental of everyone around her. That's just the way she was. But today, all she could think about was the impending gossip she would trade with her sort-of-friend Rita Skeeter. Once a week, the two girls would meet up in an abandoned classroom, exchanging whispers and secrets admist the cobwebs and musty stench of old books. Over the years, Siobhan had learned quite a few satisfying tidbits from her crafty, blonde friend. For instance, that it was in fact true that Madame Pince wore a wig! That Clement Temple of Gryffindor and Roselyn Allesbury of Ravenclaw had had a torrid affair last winter break in spite of the fact that they were both engaged to other people. This was just the tip of the iceberg of all the scandal that the two girls had delighted in since their early years at Hogwarts. And Siobhan didn't anticipate it stopping any time soon. Part of Siobhan hated being a seventh year, because she knew the gossip would have to end sooner or later.

On her way to the aforementioned abandoned classroom, Siobhan searched her brain for something to share with Rita. She knew very well that she would get nothing if she didn't have any dish to spill herself. However, Siobhan had been going through a bit of a gossip dry spell. No one was interesting anymore, it seemed. Perhaps she could just make something up? Rita Skeeter was just a darling, little dear. She truly was. But she was too sly for her own good, far slyer than Siobhan could ever hope to be. Siobhan certainly had a nose for rumors and secrecy, but she lacked the cleverness that Rita possessed. What Siobhan lacked in brainpower, however, she made up for in ruthlessness. Don't be fooled by those pretty doe-eyes. Siobhan was a right bitch when she needed to be. Or even when she didn't need to be.

Approaching the classroom, Siobhan knocked on the door, whispering their secret password, "Apple tart."

After so many years of meeting Rita in this exact same classroom, it had become a comfortable routine for Siobhan. She loved nothing more than the weekly stroll through the halls, how whispering a secret password made her fee like some kind of international spy. She was terribly sad that this was going to be her last year of trading rumors with Rita. It was probably one of the few things about Hogwarts that she would miss when she was long graduated and gone. However, she had every intention of moving to France and living a fabulous life of luxury and glamour in Paris. No doubt there would be plenty of gossip there to satisfy her cravings.

Gossip was Siobhan Cassel's life-blood. Without it, she wasn't sure how she could go on and was fairly certain she would drop dead otherwise. Admittedly, gossiping was the most admired trait in a girl, or anyone, for that matter. But the red-haired girl couldn't quite help herself. There was something about having the inside scoop that just simply made her feel superior to other people. When she looked at a fellow classmate who had no idea that Siobhan was privy to their innermost secrets invigorated her in the most morbid way possible. Knowing she would always have the proper arsenal for blackmail, bargaining, and other such delights kept her confident and proud. Siobhan certainly wasn't one to be trifled with, that was to be sure.

Siobhan really wasn't sure where her love of gossip had stemmed from. Her parents, oddballs that they were hadn't spawned this infatuation of her. Her mother was a practical, straight-laced witch who had made of living making sculptures. Her father, a Muggle, was a goof who was a professional paranormal investigator, aka, ghost-hunter. While her father loved conspiracy theories, he wasn't a gossip. Honestly, Siobhan wasn't sure how she was related to her misfit family members. She was absoultely nothing like them. Siobhan had taste, elegance, and self-proclaimed talent that not of her family members could compare to. Sometimes, she was certains he had been switched at birth.

When the door finally opened and Rita greeted Siobhan with her usual knowing smile, Siobhan nodded politely. She sauntered in gracefully, her hands folded behind her back. "Oh, I'm just grand. How about you, Rita?" It was funny, but Siobhan saw so much of herself in the blonde-haired sixth year. She was like the sister she never had, or rather, the sister she wished she had. She could never do this sort of thing with her punk, tattooed, freak circus sister Waverly. She shook her head, not wanting to think about her. Her lips pulled back, revealing her perfectly white teeth. "It's been an exciting week, I should say. Yourself? I'm just dying to hear what juicy details you have for me today." She sifted through her brain, trying to decide was tidbits of gossip would be best suited for her sly friend. She had to admit, she hadn't encountered terribly outrageous this week, but there were one or two things worth telling. Once she was given the proper motivation, of course.