Pansy nodded, her attention focusing on the click-clacking of their heels against the stone floor, the soft giggle from the girl next to her causing something inside of her to feel light, a fluttering, almost. Oh, the frustration of the same sort was there, alright, but Pansy didn't know it, just yet.
"She's just unsightly." Not like Daphne. Where had that thought come from? Pansy needed a drink, and a strong one, at that. She was glad for her makeup and the dim lighting, as the heat that rose to her face certainly signified the slightest of blushes, the sort of thing that would be concealed in such circumstances. She smoothed down her hair, as was her habit. "And very, very frustrating." She paused, pursing her lips. "Then, there are those others, like that Jones girl. Honestly, such a tart," she said. "I wouldn't go near her with a ten-foot broomstick. What happened to standards?"