Joceline had returned to Hogwarts New Zealand in an unpleasant mood, she hated being here, and the only person she knew that she could stand speaking to was Wendy Chaos, her best friend. She was no longer on speaking terms with Thomas Smith, her crush and best friend, mainly because it was too uncomfortable to be around him since he had found out about her feelings for him, and because he thought he was in love with Autumn Gwin, a Ravenclaw tart, she absolutely detested. Brandon wouldn't speak to her, or listen to her apologies for abandoning him at the Yule Ball, and she didn't know what to do any longer. She was so alone! This, however, had been the only time she was bothered by how anti-social she was, before she had her mother, but now she was dead and she was living with some man she had to call her father, who she hated.
Joceline had become meaner to people over the summer in order to distance herself from them, and was only acting a little kindly to Slytherins she found were worth while to her, and of course Wendy. She didn't have the patience for Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff bovine excrement any longer. She was really begining to act like Gaspard, but she didn't know, nor would she have cared, as long as she didn't act like her older, half brother, Aiden Lorka, she was fine.
Now walking into the Great Hall, with her wand gripped in her thin, pale didgets and a book held against her body, and her white summery dress. She had tan lines that showed that she had spent her summer in a bikini. She walked over to the Slytherin table, not paying any attention to anyone that was there, and she sat down. Joce's enchanting, azure blue eyes danced in the reflection from the light of the floating candles, as she opened the muggle novel, Blackfly Season, to page one-hundred, forty one, and picked up a fork, and began serving herself some vegitarian options for dinner.
Once the Slytherin had served herself, her gaze followed then end of her arm, and fingers, across the table and onto a boy. She assumed he was a first year, but then again he could very well be someone in her own year that she had never met or heard of due to her anti-social disorder, she gave him a posh grin, before turning back to her book, clasping it in her fingers comfortably and began reading, assuming if the boy wanted to speak to her he would, she had already read the novel so she wasn't all too eager to read it.