Whose Notebook? PV Closed

@Caelan Stewart @Amadea Campbell

It was a cold day in the Hogwarts library.

Hell, the entire building was freezing half the time. Jax had taken to wearing a pair of fingerless gloves and a beanie, his pale skin looking even paler when put up against the black. Despite being rather useless when it came to warming him up, they added to his aesthetic and they hid the unfinished stick and poke tattoo on the back of his hand; it was looking rather grim at the moment. Nothing but a few disconnected lines which looked like he'd taken a pen and slashed it across his skin.

Corpse white fingers stifled a yawn as he searched for his bookshelf. It was an old, rickety thing, but newer than most of the ceiling high shelves in the library. It had been added after the rest of the shelves had been filled, and held a few books regarding magic theory. Dry stuff no one cared about unless they were trying to impress people. There. Despite being in a relatively empty part of the library, a few reading tables were still scattered about, half burnt candles shedding halos of light across books and cracked wooden chairs. And towering over them, his shelf. It had several convenient handholds which most people wouldn't have been able to find unless they looked very carefully. Like most shelves, halfway through the middle it had a ornamental spike, which made for a great place to sit.

He'd been perched there when the girl approached him. She was pretty with ginger hair which fell around her shoulders like a waterfall. Had the kinda smile which could be contagious if used in the right context. He was the exact opposite. Ripped jeans and an oversized black hoodie, black hair which was getting a little long, hanging over his jaw. Stink and poke tattoos which littered his skin. What had started as a simple tattoo on his wrist had extended to his forearms and chest, his thighs, ankles... They were hidden by his clothes for the most part, but the ones on his hands were very clearly visible. Nailpolish was chipping away from his nails little by little, despite his best efforts to touch it up every now and then.

"No," he replied, holding up his blackbook, backing up his words. Losing the book was one of the things which would have driven him insane. There was too much of his life in it, of himself as a person, to stomach someone else looking through it. So when the ginger opened the lost book, his icy blue eyes narrowed. "Maybe don't do that," he said dryly, eyeing her up.

Nick was sprinting down the hallways of the castle, looking to be in a hurry to those around him. This might make sense if he was running late to class, but classes had ended hours ago. No, Nick was running to desperately find something he'd lost, his journal. He had been writing in it for two years now, and the entire thing was brimming with novel ideas and mockups.

The alleged journal turned out to be missing when Nick had planned to go write in the courtyard. He had ripped his dorm room apart trying to find it, even his dormmates' areas, despite none of them having been in there since that morning. Retracing his steps, Nick had determined that he had left it in the library when he went there to do some homework. He had taken his homework back up, but not his journal.

Nick had half a mind to kick the door to the library open, but luckily a girl opening the door as he approached destroyed any stupid chance of him doing it. Stepping into the library, he strode through it aggressively to the table that he left his journal on. Despite being a generic journal, not like leather-bound or anything, it was unique to Nick, and he could notice it in a heartbeat. Every scratch, every doodle, every mark was like a homing signal to him.

Nick approached the table that he always sits at to do his homework, a good distance from the librarian but not in the deep crevices of the library. A few metres away, Nick spotted a girl holding a journal and a boy next to her looking at it. He immediately identified the journal as his own, which meant that they were SNOOPING! The audacity of someone, to see something that was someone else's and reading it without that person's permission?

"What the hell are ye doin'!?" Nick boomed towards the two of them, which caught the attention of everyone around them. He didn't care though, he was filled with unbridled rage towards these two fellow students. Storming up to the main culprit, the one holding the journal of his, he snatched it out of her hands. Looking at the journal, he saw it was opened to that thrown away story about the adventures of a pygmy puff he made when he was like ten. 'If they were going to snoop, could they at least look at my good writing?' Nick thought angrily.

@Amadea Campbell & @Jackson Lockwood

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@Caelan Stewart | @Jackson Lockwood

𝓐madea felt a cold draft as she held out the book toward the other student, as if it was a warning sign. She fought the urge to shiver simply because she felt quite awkward standing there with her arm extended. The boy sitting in front of her seemed quite disinterested in the whole situation, and Amadea could have assumed his answer before he spoke the one simple word: 'No.' He then held up a black notebook of his own; Amadea noted how he matched with his notebook. If Amadea radiated a sense of cheeriness and light, this boy was exactly the opposite.

Amadea cleared her head, refocusing on the task at hand, which was figuring out who this journal belonged to. Now that she had ruled out the other boy in the room, she quickly scanned the first page of the notebook, hoping to find a name or some sort of defining sign of who it could belong to. There was nothing there. "Oh, I'm not trying to snoop," she explained to the other boy. "I was just thinking maybe they had written their name inside the cover in case they ever lost it," she added. "But I don't see anything." Amadea was about to close the notebook with a sigh and head toward the front of the library to give it to the librarian when there was a loud yell that startled Amadea and she promptly felt the notebook being snatched out of her hand.

Caught off guard by the loud yell, she quickly pieced together what was happening. She fought the urge to cringe or tell the other new boy to quiet down since they were in a library as he seemed quite angry and probably wouldn't be too happy with Amadea if she tried to tell him what to do. Nevertheless, she still was on edge from the commotion and hoped that the librarian wouldn't kick them all out. "I'm so sorry, this is all a big misunderstanding," Amadea spoke quickly and quietly in the hopes of not being interrupted. "I was about to sit down to do some work but I saw the notebook; I didn't know whose it was so I asked..uhh," Amadea paused, realizing she didn't know the name of the boy...either of them to be more specific, "I asked him if it was his, but he said no. I only opened the first page to see if there was a name on the inside cover or something, I promise I wasn't snooping through it. I swear I didn't even see anything inside except for the first page." She closed her mouth, hoping that her explanation showed that there was a logical explanation for all of this and the owner of the notebook didn't have to be angry. He had just appeared at the worst possible moment.

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[font= Jester] "Hey man, I'm not part of this," Jax replied, throwing up his hands in an 'I surrender' sort of gesture. A gesture which was practically dripping sarcasm, his icy blue eyes taking in the new boy expressionlessly. What the the chick was saying sounded more than reasonable, if he were to be honest. Despite all that, had it been HIS blackbook, his reaction would have been similar to the other boy's.

When the girl mentioned him in her rushed blurb, he gave an elegant wave, grimacing as he noticed exactly how badly chipped his nailpolish was. Despite months of practice, he still hadn't mastered the art of applying it properly, trembling hands getting in his way most days. It was the damned cold. A cold which never seemed to leave the building or his bones, no matter how close he was to a fire. There was nothing intelligent to say in this situation.

So he watched the events unfold quietly, perched above them on the bookshelf, knees folded underneath himself. Both of them were ridiculously beautiful. Most people at Hogwarts had a certain...thing. Take the girl, for example. Her fiery hair tumbled down to her shoulders in messy locks, rosy skin taking on a warm golden shade in the pale candlelight. Made her look like a goddess. Someone who'd walked out of a romance novel.

And the boy...well there wasn't much to say about him, if you ignored the thick Scottish accent. Better built than Jax, hair neatly trimmed and dark eyes. Ordinary save for the meticulous tidiness and anger. An anger Jax knew all too well. Normally, Jax's eyes would have lingered on him for no other reason than his gender, but not today. Dark circles were visible under his eyes, a deep weariness written all over his face, pale fingers trembling slightly as he flipped open his sketchbook. He needed to get the boy still in motion, capture his anger.

Quick strokes filled the page within a matter of seconds, light pencil lines sketching out the furious figure below him. "She didn't do anything, quit being an asshole," he said, watching for any sort of reaction. Perhaps a normal person would have kept their mouth shut. But Jax wanted to draw anger, and what better way to get a model than to irritate the guy. He was high above both their heads, and unless you'd climbed the bookshelf before, it would be nearly impossible to make it to him. 'Yeah that's right,' the boy thought, penciling in the tension in Mr. Scottish' shoulders, the snarl on his face. 'She touched your book, you're furious.' A small smile came upon his features as he sketched Mr. Big Bad Wolf out, for a brief moment banishing the fatigue which had come upon him. '[/font]

"So ye decided tae open the notebook?" Nick shouted, "What would ye even dae if ye had a name?" There were hundreds of kids in this school, a name wouldn't be any more help than if you didn't have it. 'She should've known I would retrace my steps and find it.' Nick thought bitterly. He was so wrapped up in his anger that he didn't even take the time to put himself in her shoes. He didn't care that he probably would've done the same thing in that situation.

Most of this anger was likely coming from an internalized embarrassment. Nick still uses that notebook to write all his stories in, and his past stories aren't exactly the best. He would get another notebook, but it meant a lot to him. Nick's mom had given it to him for Christmas when he was ten, and he's used it ever since. He secretly can't wait till he fills the notebook to the point he needs a new one, so he can just save it at home, and no one has to know about his cringey stories other than him.

Just as Nick was about to chew this girl out even more, completely fuelled out of anger, the other boy told him off. He looked to him where he was vigorously scribbling inside his own notebook. "What are ye writing-" Nick was about to ask, but he noticed that his strokes were longer and more erratic. It looked like he was drawing something instead of writing. "What are ye doin'? Ye takin' the 'Why don't ye take a picture, it'll last longer' tae a whole 'nother level?"

The boy didn't care about Nick's anger as much as the girl did. While she was trying to sort everything out and calm him down, the boy was clearly getting a bit of a kick out of this. His appearance matched his demeanour in a lot of ways. Pale, dark hair, and warmer layers of clothing. He screamed a sort of 'I don't care look' which is just how he was treating this situation. Normally, Nick would probably not be super close with him, but he would tolerate him, which is more than he can say for a lot of people. Not today, he was an accomplice in the book snatching.

@Amadea Campbell & @Jackson Lockwood

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@Caelan Stewart | @Jackson Lockwood

𝓐madea stood hopelessly in front of the two boys, unsure of what to say or do. One of them was radiating anger about whatever he thought he saw, even though none of it was true and the other one had removed himself from the conversation entirely, leaving Amadea to stand up for herself on her own. Of course, she couldn't blame the other boy. She knew that if she was in his position she would have had to make a tough decision too. After all, he really hadn't had anything to do with it until Amadea had asked if the notebook was his. Then again, the loyal side of Amadea said that she would have stood up for the person because she had seen what truly had happened and that this whole situation was just a giant misunderstanding.

Unfortunately, it didn't seem like the boy was calming down at all. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Amadea exclaimed as quietly as she could. The boy was still yelling and Amadea was still worried someone was going to come over and kick them all out of the library. "You're right, I shouldn't have opened it at all, I should have just brought it up to the librarian..." who would have probably opened it once I gave it to her so why is he getting mad at me? Amadea thought to herself. There were probably hundreds of black notebooks around the school; how could they figure out whose it was if they didn't open it to see if there was a name? "If I had seen that someone's name was in it I would have explained to the librarian whose notebook it was and have them return it," Amadea answered the boy's question. "Or if I knew who the person was I would have returned it myself."

The other boy butted in, telling the notebook boy not to be an asshole. Amadea winced, not because of his choice in language (because that did seem to be rather fitting for the moment) but because she was sure that calling him an asshole while he was angry certainly wasn't going to help his mood or calm him down any quicker. But maybe it was just fuel to the fire; it didn't seem like he was anywhere near calming down in the first place. Before Amadea could open her mouth and say anything else that might help her case and get her out of this situation, the boy had turned his anger on the other boy. It seemed almost ironic to Amadea that he was pestering the boy about what he was writing in his own notebook. After all, wasn't the whole point notebook boy was angry because Amadea had "snooped' through his own notebook? Surely he would understand why people wanted to keep things private; pestering him about whatever he was putting in his own notebook seemed almost hypocritical at this point.

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@@Amadea Campbell@Caelan Stewart

Jax leaned forward over the bookshelf a little. To onlookers he seemed about to fall off, tongue between his teeth as he switched between a blue pen to black, something fluttering in his chest. His eyes...the guy had nice eyes. A small annoyed frown came upon Jax's features as he realized he'd stared the sketch too small. He wouldn't be able to get all the details in unless he spent hours, and right then, he had minutes, maybe seconds. Flipping to a new page with rushed, frantic movements, the pen clashed with paper, drawing the shape of Mr. Angry's face. Broad strokes at first, starting with the bridge of his nose and moving onto his furrowed brows. All else seemed to fall away, fading to monotone black and grays as he zoned in on the older looking boy. "You look positively mortified," he said absent mindedly, the shadow of a hairline starting to show up with quick jerky strokes. "It's entertaining if nothing else..."

"What do you have in there?" his voice was filled with mockery, which seemed to be falling down on top of the two students from where he was perched. "Love letters to your girlfriend? Ranting about your mommy?" Karma was going to get him so good for this one, he could already see her sharpening her claws. But that would come at a later date. Now, he was busy riling Mr. Scottish up. And if he were honest, the expressions on Ms. Snoop's face were absolutely hilarious. She'd actually physically winced. Jax chuckled darkly, leaning forward a bit more, charcoal black hair falling around his face in unruly waves.

If someone were to take HIS sketchbook, everything he'd thrown in Mr. Scott's face would come right back to bite him in the arse. Other than the half finished song lyrics and terrifyingly realistic drawings, between the pages of his blackbook laid all his hopes and dreams. The tattoo parlor he was going to open up, pages upon pages of tattoo designs, letters to the mother he'd never met and scribbled notes between him and his brother, when they were both in class and wanted to piss off the teacher. A long detailed list of pranks he was planning on playing and last but not least, pride art. If there was any doubt about his sexuality, it would be dispelled by the amount of gay couples in there. So technically speaking, he was mocking Mr. Scott with everything he feared would happen to himself. How very original.

"Or do you write in it? Stories where you're not a looser?" Okay, now any sane person would have punched him for that and that alone. Jax had already tensed up a little, half expecting Mr. Scott to Wingardium Leviosa himself up there to kick his butt. He'd, oh so elegantly, plucked his wand from the man bun which had been holding most of his hair up, setting it between the pages of his book as way too much hair fell to his jaw.

The blonde girl in front of him was clearly getting very upset and trying to apologize. "Yer right, ye should'e just given it tae someone who had a better way o' handling it." Nick said, his voice faltering a bit at the end. This girl was breaking through his anger slightly, she clearly felt bad for what she did - even though she didn't do anything wrong - and was trying to make it up. After a certain point, he probably would've calmed down and talked it through with her, but then this guy kept butting in with his remarks.

Nick was getting really fired up. This guy was scribbling in his own notebook a mile a minute all while insulting Nick for wanting the stuff in his notebook to be private. And even if that wasn't enough, this eejit openly admitted to finding this entertaining. "Yer really pushing it, 'm about to come up there n'-" Nick said, not really knowing how he would finish the threat. This guy definitely deserved to get punched or something, but he could easily avoid it with the high ground.

Then this kid started making fun of the notebook contents. His writing was something he used to put his frustration with his life into a way that was creatively fulfilling. This kid was literally using his notebook as he was insulting him for using his notebook. At this point, the girl who had actually opened the notebook had left his thoughts, probably because of the subconscious thoughts that she wasn't in the wrong. "Oh, yer fecking gettin' it now" Nick growled, primal anger in his throat.

In his fight and flight mode, Nick stormed towards the bookshelf towards the dark-haired boy. He had no idea how he got up there, and it would take too long to figure out, so he had to think of something else. So, ignoring any rules or common sense, he pulled out the wand hidden in his sleeve. Pointing it at his notebook that he was holding out rather vulnerably, he made a swish and flick motion and growled, "Wingardium Leviosa". The notebook slowly floated out his hands. Not wanting to just take the notebook, he started taunting the boy, swirling it over his head.

@Amadea Campbell & @Jackson Lockwood