When it came to studying for classes Emilie Johansson did not follow in the footsteps of her elder brother. No, she was known to frequent the path of her elder cousin Magdalena, but still too proud to ask Magdalena for any help with her schoolwork, Emilie was forced to remain stressed over an assignment that she had due in Potions. She knew that Magdalena excelled in the subject, and though she didn't hate her cousin nearly as much as Kalle, Emilie could still not ask her half-blood cousin for help. So she had bottled herself up in the library for most of the afternoon, skipping one of her classes to finish the last few bits of her assignment before heading back down to the Slytherin common room. Emilie had missed breakfast earlier that morning while she poured over her notes for class, and she hadn't bothered heading to lunch seeing as she desperately needed to focus on her work. Needless to say the fourteen year old was stressed, hungry and irritated beyond belief, which didn't help as she maneuvered through the corridors between classes.

With a scowl set heavy in her features Emilie pushed through the crowd of students. Her arms were filled with a couple of books that didn't fit in her bag, and Emilie did her best to keep them balanced set against her tiny frame. She was doing all right, much better then she would have thought, when a traffic jam seemed to pop up in front of her, prohibiting her from proceeding down the hall. Cursing under her breath, Emilie sidestepped the group and approached an opening that seemed large enough for her to squeeze through. Of course as soon as she made it to the gap another figure from the opposite direction stepped up to it. Not bothering to see who it was, Emilie powered through the gap and knocked the other person clear out of the way.

"I suppose being a Slytherin must also mean you don't have any manners either."

Emilie paused, spinning on her heel slowly to glare at the younger girl. "Maybe if you weren't the size of a Quidditch Pitch I'd be able to make it through without hitting into you." Of course Shanley was not fat at all, but the fourteen year old temper rose up in Emilie and she couldn't deny herself. Adjusting the books in her arms, Emilie snorted back a laugh, "And if I was going to show anyone a bit of manners it wouldn't be a half-breed like you, Shanley."