The Hogwarts rumour mill was something to behold. The speed with which total secrets spread was truly astounding. A student could go from adored at breakfast to a total pariah by dinner.
Daphne Greengrass had prided herself on staying out of the public eye and keeping to herself during her time at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She was in the top percentile of her class, bested only by that Granger girl and a Ravenclaw, whose name Daphne didn't care to remember, or so she had her friend Tracey think.
However, her natural beauty was something that could not be ignored for too long, as she began to feel an increasing number of male eyes looking her way, which she dealt with by fixing them with a cold glare.
She was on her way back from the library when heard a catcall in the empty corridor she'd taken to make her way back to the dungeons.
"Daphne Greengrass," the male voice called. She spun to see Theodore Nott slinking her way. "You have grown to be quite the catch."
"Nott," she greeted tersely.
She had to keep from shuddering in disgust at the lewd once-over he gave her, as she could practically feel his hormonal wishes radiating off of him.
"What do you say we find ourselves a broom cupboard and we get to know each other a little better?" he suggested, adding in a decidedly counter-productive wink to boot.
"You know what? I'm going to pass," Daphne responded; her tone cold enough to nearly cause frostbite.
With that she wheeled around and continued on her way, until she felt a vice-grip on her upper arm, yanking her back and causing her to drop her books and scrolls, which spilled over the corridor.
"Oh come on, love. Did you honestly think I was asking?" he growled dangerously.
What Theo Nott did not account for was grabbing her non-wand hand and that in the instant he'd spun her around; she'd grabbed her wand and just as he'd finished his sentence, promptly received a vicious stinging hex to the unmentionables.
He howled in pain and let go of Daphne, who promptly hit him with a body-binding curse, giving her the time and peace to gather her things and return to her dorm room with a heart seemingly beating four times its normal rate.
The very next day, she felt the stares of the whole student body, and caught fragments of the whispers. The word prude was the one that came up quite a bit.
She couldn't believe the nerve they all had to judge her from their tainted ivory towers. As she met each of those conspiratorial gazes, she thought a responding label which was infinitely more accurate and a lot more incriminating.
Damn, she hated the Hogwarts rumour mill.