:: Ganymede scowled at the older Slytherin. Does he want me to throw this drink at him? She thought to herself as she slowly picked the cup of pop up and then slowly sat it back down.

Instead, she tore a little bit of paper off her square and crumpled it up. With a light toss, it landed on his head lightly. It was as if a snowflake danced onto his attractive coif.

There.
I'm more attractive than that slime. Ganymede ran a hand through her purple hair and even practiced a few winks. These were to her desk, it probably looked like she was insane. ::