27 Jun 2019, 19:12
Potions & Poisons
You'd think that by virtue of being a Slytherin that a student would have a natural aptitude for their Potions homework, or at the very least the tenacity to forge ahead and get the work done without issue, but that was not the case with the young Irish boy.
He'd been sequestered in the library at every opportunity as he tried to get his work done, stacking volumes all around himself as he tried to figure out the answers that were required. The first-year was in over his head; he was so flummoxed that he'd forgotten all about his wand - which he'd left wedged between some books on one of the higher racks - and was struggling to move the wall of textbooks from one side of him to the other in the manual manner of a muggle, until one of the piles tipped and spilled over.
Letting out a groan that was more histrionic than intended, the boy raced to try and catch the older volumes before they hit the floor. He wasn't very successful, and a loud boom ricocheted across the surface of the library, to the detriment of all the other students working very hard around him. Everything stilled for a minute - and Fee visibly winced as the sound died off, lifting his eyes just enough so that he could cast an apologetic, awkward, stupid little smile around to the faces looking his way. "Oops, um... Sorry." Yet even as he spoke, those faces were turning back to their books or their quiet conversations. Fee focused on the mess and hurried to tidy the books up, forgetting his pile of parchment which lay just as scattered over the floor nearby.
He'd been sequestered in the library at every opportunity as he tried to get his work done, stacking volumes all around himself as he tried to figure out the answers that were required. The first-year was in over his head; he was so flummoxed that he'd forgotten all about his wand - which he'd left wedged between some books on one of the higher racks - and was struggling to move the wall of textbooks from one side of him to the other in the manual manner of a muggle, until one of the piles tipped and spilled over.
Letting out a groan that was more histrionic than intended, the boy raced to try and catch the older volumes before they hit the floor. He wasn't very successful, and a loud boom ricocheted across the surface of the library, to the detriment of all the other students working very hard around him. Everything stilled for a minute - and Fee visibly winced as the sound died off, lifting his eyes just enough so that he could cast an apologetic, awkward, stupid little smile around to the faces looking his way. "Oops, um... Sorry." Yet even as he spoke, those faces were turning back to their books or their quiet conversations. Fee focused on the mess and hurried to tidy the books up, forgetting his pile of parchment which lay just as scattered over the floor nearby.
28 Jun 2019, 00:10
Potions & Poisons
The Library was one of Mac's favorite haunts. Perhaps as a Ravenclaw, it was a bit stereotypical of him, but he'd always had a soft spot for books. With a soft smile on his face, he walked through one of the aisles, his fingers trailing across the spines of the books lined up on the shelves as he passed them by. Some looked to be just as old as the castle itself, while others were so young that you could smell that distinct 'new' scent on their pages.
As his blue eyes flickered over the titles, searching for anything that might catch his attention, he was suddenly jolted back to reality by the sound of something heavy crashing against the hardwood floor with a resounding 'THUD'. He turned around to see where the noise had came from, only to find another student who'd dropped his books. That wasn't such an uncommon occurrence, surprisingly enough. It happened with a lot of first years who thought they could carry more books than their noodle-y arms could handle. He would know, since it was usually Mac himself who was causing the commotion.
The boy muttered an apology, followed by a polite smile as he gathered up his books. Mac looked him over before landing on what might have once been a neatly stacked pile of parchments, but was now a scattered mess on the floor. Quietly, he made his way over to the pile of papers before bending over to gather them up for the Slytherin. It didn't take too long to get them in order. "Um... excuse me," he said gently as he offered the papers up to the boy, presented in a neat little pile.
"Are these yours?" Mac asked, his voice hushed, as not to disrupt the other readers in the library. "It happens all the time, you know... people dropping books, I mean. They've been through a lot."
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28 Jun 2019, 00:55
Potions & Poisons
He'd expected some more backlash; the other Slytherin students weren't exactly shy to point out his frequent looks of confusion or dumb comments when they were in Potions class together, or if he was trying to study within the dormitories. Maybe that's why Eiran had hidden himself away where most of the other snakes wouldn't go - the library, where things were always a bit quieter. He didn't worry so much about the textbooks but he tidied them anyway, hoping that he'd remember where to put them once he was finished. There were more than he needed: each focusing on some aspect of potion-making although the majority were beyond his level, which could've been why they'd been stacked around him instead of open and in-use.
As Eiran tried to tidy things, he heard a voice and visibly startled, whirling in his robes to face the stranger. It was another student of course, young like himself. Trying to be helpful and tidy up the forgotten notes. "Oh, thank ya," he murmured through his brogue. The notes were nearly illegible; some quill-marks looked more like an ink spill than any discernible word, but there were some hastily scrawled bits about potions and their various uses. He grabbed for them a little bit too hastily, almost like he expected them to be withdrawn before he could get them, and then once Eiran had them in his hands he tucked them together and placed them down on a nearby ledge.
Next, Eiran looked around for his quill, and he scooped that up from the ground and placed that gingerly atop his notes. When he realized he didn't have his wand he began to feel a spark of panic, and his attention roamed across the shelves and the floor and the stacks of books - until he finally saw it's ruddy red hue jutting from where he'd wedged it. "Shoot, I almost lost this," he practically sighed as he drew the wand free, except - that caused the books to move too, and they were falling from the shelf within seconds and as he tried to save them, he dropped his wand with a sharp clatter.
As Eiran tried to tidy things, he heard a voice and visibly startled, whirling in his robes to face the stranger. It was another student of course, young like himself. Trying to be helpful and tidy up the forgotten notes. "Oh, thank ya," he murmured through his brogue. The notes were nearly illegible; some quill-marks looked more like an ink spill than any discernible word, but there were some hastily scrawled bits about potions and their various uses. He grabbed for them a little bit too hastily, almost like he expected them to be withdrawn before he could get them, and then once Eiran had them in his hands he tucked them together and placed them down on a nearby ledge.
Next, Eiran looked around for his quill, and he scooped that up from the ground and placed that gingerly atop his notes. When he realized he didn't have his wand he began to feel a spark of panic, and his attention roamed across the shelves and the floor and the stacks of books - until he finally saw it's ruddy red hue jutting from where he'd wedged it. "Shoot, I almost lost this," he practically sighed as he drew the wand free, except - that caused the books to move too, and they were falling from the shelf within seconds and as he tried to save them, he dropped his wand with a sharp clatter.
28 Jun 2019, 02:35
Potions & Poisons
Mac didn't think much of the Slytherin's messy handwriting. After all, his own handwriting wasn't much better. Being a muggle-born, he was unaccustomed to writing with a quill. Add that to being left-handed, and much of his own work had to be re-done after smearing so much ink on the parchment. What he did notice, however, was the student's hesitance. His immediate assumption was that he wanted to be left alone, which wasn't unreasonable. The boy was clearly busy with his studies, judging by the small mountain of books that surrounded him like a leather-bound fortress.
He was just about to say goodbye when the boy reached over to pull something out of the unlevel stack of books, sending them tumbling down to the ground. In a kneejerk reaction, the Slytherin dropped his wand to stop the books from falling, causing an entirely different dilemma. "Oh!" he gasped as he shot up to his feet.
Mac didn't have the best reflexes; though he tried his best to save the wand before it hit the ground, it still ended up skidding across the hardwood floor. At the very least, he was quick to chase after it. Thankfully, he managed to pick it up before it flew underneath a shelf - or worse. Heaven only knew how long it would've stayed there if that were the case. Mac's wand had become all but an extension of his hand; he couldn't imagine losing it.
It was cherry wood, much like Mac's own wand, though it was different in a way that he couldn't quite put into words. His fingers trailed over the wood, eyes narrowed as he examined the patterns in the grain. Bewitched. Imbued with magic, like nearly everything else in the wizarding world. A wand chooses its owner, Ollivander told him. He wondered, if he tried to cast a spell with this wand, would it even work at all?
A blush crawled across his features as he realized where he was - or more importantly, what he was holding. This wasn't his wand; he should probably return it before he got yelled at. He offered the boy a sheepish smile as he offered the wand to him, handle first. "Careful," he warned. "I doubt you wanna lose this, yeah?"
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28 Jun 2019, 03:31
Potions & Poisons
Eiran scrambled to catch the books and forgot all about the wand, which was thankfully deflected by the other boy. He was busy organizing the books back in to their homes on the shelf and didn't seem bothered that he was wandless; but then as he finished, he recalled what had started the avalanche and looked around for the magical stick. He noticed that the other boy was holding it and felt a distinct feeling of possessiveness creep up his spine and raise the hair on the back of his neck, but he made no move to grab for the wand - even as the other boy offered it up. Eiran stared at the wand for a few seconds (as if he was considering just abandoning it to the other boy) and then swept his hand out to take it back. He quickly pocketed it within his robes and then pat himself down, adjusting things with a deep sigh to punctuate the moment.
"Right, I should keep better track of.. That. Thank you, again." He didn't mean to be so sharp with the other boy. Eiran knew he could use some friends even if they were from the other houses, as he didn't feel like he fit-in with the other Slytherin boys (or really, anyone here at Hogwarts, as everyone seemed to understand the lessons and all the magic far more quickly than he did), but at the same time he was resistant to making that leap of faith. He didn't want to offer himself up like a lamb to slaughter, even if this boy seemed kind and helpful in the moment. Eiran was young but he was skeptical of the world he'd entered in to upon receiving his acceptance letter. So far that hadn't changed in the days since the lessons began.
He realized that he'd been staring a bit too long, though, and looked down at the piles of books as he murmured, "I.. I'd best get back to studying, ah, probably gonna flunk outta Potions either way." With that he grabbed for one of the books and with some reluctance, lifted the worn old cover as one might tentatively investigate the door to a tiger's cage.
"Right, I should keep better track of.. That. Thank you, again." He didn't mean to be so sharp with the other boy. Eiran knew he could use some friends even if they were from the other houses, as he didn't feel like he fit-in with the other Slytherin boys (or really, anyone here at Hogwarts, as everyone seemed to understand the lessons and all the magic far more quickly than he did), but at the same time he was resistant to making that leap of faith. He didn't want to offer himself up like a lamb to slaughter, even if this boy seemed kind and helpful in the moment. Eiran was young but he was skeptical of the world he'd entered in to upon receiving his acceptance letter. So far that hadn't changed in the days since the lessons began.
He realized that he'd been staring a bit too long, though, and looked down at the piles of books as he murmured, "I.. I'd best get back to studying, ah, probably gonna flunk outta Potions either way." With that he grabbed for one of the books and with some reluctance, lifted the worn old cover as one might tentatively investigate the door to a tiger's cage.
28 Jun 2019, 17:07
Potions & Poisons
He was quite jumpy, wasn't he? Mac wasn't good at reading people, but he didn't have to be a detective to see that the Slytherin was nervous, if not downright frightened. He wondered if he'd done something to offend him, or if he was just anxious by nature. Mac had assumed the boy was a first year, much like himself, though it was possible he might've been entering his second year. The green tie around his neck proudly boasted his house, though the stereotypical Slytherin - sneaky, cutthroat, abrasive - contrasted sharply in comparison to the sheepish boy that sat in front of him.
Now that, Mac could understand. "Oh- I could help you," he offered, followed by a brief pause. "... Y'know. If you want, I mean." He sat down across from the boy, legs crossed as he looked at the textbook that the Slytherin was currently examining with a reluctance that might've been comical under different circumstances. He looked as if it the pages might jump out and bite him."I.. I'd best get back to studying, ah, probably gonna flunk outta Potions either way." With that he grabbed for one of the books and with some reluctance, lifted the worn old cover as one might tentatively investigate the door to a tiger's cage.
"What are you having trouble with? Potions isn't my best subject, but my grades are okay." He wasn't trying to humble brag; he really did want to help, if he could. The boy seemed like he needed it.
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