Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-5297572-20160911205952/@comment-26959117-20160925031444

(so late ;.;)

Lace had barely made it past hexams in fourth year and she currently didn't know how she would survive the fifth. It was true that magic came easy to her, but she really couldn't study that well. She examined her wand for a second before shoving it back into her robes. She decided to go to her common room. It was true that Ravenclaws were known for their intelligence, but Lace was part of the craetive chunck of Ravenclaws an proud of it.

She pasted a hall where a Griffindor and a Slythiin seemed to be fighting, with many whispers amoung the crowd watching. Lace stopped and sat down. This was something she wanted to see. Anyway, the more stuck up Ravenclaws were tired of the constant noise she made. If she stayed here, she could watch the fight AND sketch. "Accio, sketchbook." She mumbled, wand in hand. Her sketchbook flew out of her common room and into her hand. She smiled, waiting to see what would happen next.