The Prisoner of Azkaban RP


My Characters: They were just around. Nothing special was happening to them.
 
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Hermione: She started for the staircases.

Ron: "Where do you think she is?"

Harry: "Hmm. I don't know. Maybe outside somewhere? She's avoiding people, I think, so she won't be in the Great Hall or Library or anything like that."
 
Harry: "Hmm. I don't know. Maybe outside somewhere? She's avoiding people, I think, so she won't be in the Great Hall or Library or anything like that."

Ron: "Yeah. Maybe outside, like Hermione said."

OOC: there's no way to give a good nickname to Hermione.
 
Mikhailya: She was in the bathroom, washing her face. Those two Slytherin boys had bruised her up, made her bleed, but it wasn't anything worse than what she picked up in quidditch and hockey. She'd just have to avoid Pierson and Esmire. They were great friends, but she didn't want to worry them. Telling people wouldn't fix anything anyway. There would always be bigotry and hate and prejudice.
 
Harry: He looked around.

Adriana: She was curled up, asleep in the embrace of a tree.

OOC: Are they going to find her?

Ron: "I don't see her."

OOC: Am I playing him too idiotically? I mean, he does pull through when you really need him...

Hermione: She made her way out to the grounds and looked for the boys.
 
OOC: Are they going to find her?

Ron: "I don't see her."

OOC: Am I playing him too idiotically? I mean, he does pull through when you really need him...

Hermione: She made her way out to the grounds and looked for the boys.

OOC: I think he's fine. I don't really care if you do or not.

Harry: "Here comes Hermione."
 

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