Dare to Debate? PV Robert T. Closed

@Jack Burnett

Robert was tired. This was nothing new for mornings, but that didn't give the first-year much solace. He sat near the end of the Ravenclaw table, facing the majority of the great hall, back against the Slytherin table. He was nursing a glass of pumpkin juice, wishing he drank coffee. The reason he didn't was because of his parents' unhealthy addiction to it, shown when he'd challenged his father to going a whole day without any caffeine. This lasted to around lunchtime, when one of his coworkers found poor Thomas Toukmond curled up into a ball under a table, hiding from any type of light. From that day on, Robert vowed to never touch any type of caffeine, especially coffee.

Attempting to come back to the present, the Ravenclaw focused on the book he was reading, An Anthology of Eighteenth Century Charms. It was not the most interesting of books, and Robert felt his thoughts slipping back into the past, or more specifically, yesterday. He was reminded of a person he'd seen in the halls, who was talking to someone else about how much he wanted a suitable partner to argue with. Intrigued, Robert had sat down on a bench nearby and continued listening to their conversation. The other student had referred to the first as "Jack," but was quickly corrected to "Burnett," allowing Robert to learn his name. That night, he wrote a letter to Burnett asking if he was interested in a formal debate.

As if summoned by his thoughts, an owl flew over to him with a letter between its talons. Robert stared at it for a second before realizing it was waiting for him to take the letter from its legs. Robert was quite curious about who it was from, as he very rarely got mail, other than from his parents, who wrote on Saturdays. Robert reached over and took the letter from the owl, moving the pumpkin juice far away, having learned his lesson from last week when he'd had to ask an older student to piece his parents' soggy letter back together using magic.

Jack Burnett wrote:Mr. Robert Toukmond,

I thank you for your formal invitation and interest in me becoming my debate partner. I do hope we'll be able to speak face-to-face quite soon; perhaps sooner than you might expect. I do wonder, however, why you didn't simply hand me your letter yourself, though. That or simply approach me to make your offer in person. Could it be, perhaps, that you're the shy type? I suppose we'll find out soon.

Sincerely,

That was quick, Robert thought to himself. He'd only sent the letter last night, meaning Jack would have only gotten it a couple minutes ago during breakfast mail delivery. The first-year didn't make a habit of going to breakfast with parchment and a quill, so he folded up the letter and put it in his pocket, making a mental note to reply as soon as possible. He was a bit intrigued by the vaguely foreboding promises of a meeting included in the letter, but didn't think much of it. Robert scooched his pumpkin juice closer, taking another sip and immersing himself in the book in front of him.

Success.

Pleased to have discovered his quarry so easily, Jack finished off his juice, put a last piece of buttered toast in his mouth, wiped his hands on a napkin, and got up from the table with his bag. Ambling casually over to where he had seen the owl touch down, he went to visit the youth at the Ravenclaw table, unable to keep the grin off his face as he approached, even as he munched on the last of his breakfast.

What a bold youth. Jack wasn't all that familiar with Ravenclaws, but he thought perhaps that this one might have been new; a first year, since he couldn't recall ever having laid eyes on him before. Still, was it possible that a first year had gotten wind of him so quickly? And he surely must have known Jack was a second year now, right? Yet he'd still had the gall to offer himself up as a debate partner.

Intrigued all the more, the Slytherin brushed the toast crumbs from his hands before folding them behind his back and walking up to the young man on which he was focused. Robert was reading a book, apparently untroubled in the least at having received a reply so quickly, much less intimidated by the letter. At last, someone who wasn't too daunted to take him on in a battle of wits. Of course, there had been others in the past...but how many had actually proved clever enough to defeat him? Would this one?

"Reading a book at breakfast? Must be something particularly fascinating,"Jack commented, leaning forward with his hands still clasped behind him in what he meant to be a polite and amicable manner. Then he tried to catch Robert's eye, his own hazel ones gleaming with mischief.

"...Mr. Toukmond, I presume...?"

@Robert Toukmond

Interacting with @Jack Burnett

Robert loved reading. That much was obvious about him. Reading after bedtime was actually one of the few things the Ravenclaw had ever actually defied his parents about. Of course, a normal child might have smuggled a flashlight into bed with them as well as a book, but Robert was so afraid of being caught, he decided that light was too much of a risk. Looking back, this is probably the main reason the young boy had now been the proud owner of thick, rectangular, glasses for four years. The only reason he now wore contacts was because of how often those glasses broke.

Despite his slightly unhealthy obsession to reading, An Anthology of Eighteenth Century Charms was one book he just was not able to enjoy. Multiple times, he scanned through an entire chapter, then realized he hadn't actually read a single word of it. His thoughts kept drifting to the letter tucked up in his pocket, with his fingers drifting over as well, as if to make sure it was still there. As he was taking a sip of pumpkin juice, he suddenly heard someone speak. "Reading a book at breakfast? Must be something particularly fascinating."

Startled, Robert jumped a couple inches in the air, and started violently coughing as he choked on the pumpkin juice still in his mouth. He somehow managed to avoid getting juice on his book, but the rest of the table wasn't so lucky. The first-year flushed red, partly from embarrassment, partly from the fact that he still wasn't quite able to breathe. Coughing a bit less now, Robert glumly looked at the mess around him before turning his gaze to the intruder in his space. Sighing, Robert realized that it was, in fact, the very person he'd just challenged to a debate, Jack Burnett. "...Mr. Toukmond, I presume...?"

Coughing one last time, Robert corrected, more on instinct than anything else, "It's pronounced 'tuck-mund,' not 'toak-mond'" The first-year wanly smiled. "In answer to your first question, no, unfortunately, this is probably one of the most boring books I've ever read." Thankful for an excuse to stop reading it, Robert closed the book with a thump, and turned to face the other boy. "And you are Mr. Burnett?" He posed this as a question, but it was really more of a statement. He'd learned earlier that the second-year preferred to called people by their last name, and this was reinforced when he himself had been called "Mr. Toukmond" instead of "Robert." His first impression had been, well, messy, but the least he could do to make up for it was refer to Burnett in the manner he preferred.

Jack's brows rose when Robert jumped in surprise at the sound of his voice, causing him to choke. The redhead glanced around for a napkin or something if necessary, not at all having meant to startle the other young man. By the time he found one suitable enough and began to dab at the mess on the table, he noticed the Ravenclaw's newly-ruddy complexion. The Welsh boy winced slightly with inward guilt.

"Sorry about that," he apologized, still cleaning the spilled, spattered, and coughed-up juice as best he could. "I thought you saw or heard me; didn't mean to scare you. Are you alright?"

He nodded in acknowledgment at the correction of his pronunciation of the other boy's surname, keeping it in mind for future use. Then he offered Robert a clean napkin if he needed one to wipe his face and perhaps his robes and any of his other belongings that Jack thought it might have been rude of him to touch.

"Heh...you seemed pretty lost in thought for someone reading such a boring book," Jack answered upon being told the English boy's opinion of his reading material. "And yes, that's me, but please just call me Burnett. The formal title just reminds me of the way people address my father. Besides, it's not my style."

Returning the wan smile with a sheepish one of his own, he gave a quick, shallow bow at the waist. "At your service. Though...I hope I haven't inconvenienced you with my sudden appearance. Not beyond causing you to choke on your juice, at least."

His grin broadened. "That wouldn't have happened to be the reason you preferred to send a letter rather than introduce yourself in person, would it have? To try to avoid such disastrous first impressions...?"

@Robert Toukmond

Interacting with @Jack Burnett

Robert smiled in thanks as the older boy found a couple napkins and used them to help clean up the mess on the table. "No worries, I'm fine. It isn't the first time something like this has happened." Especially in the mornings, his nerves were almost always strung pretty tight. It was the reason he had his back facing the Slytherin table in the first place, so that he would be able to see as much of the Great Hall as possible in case someone were to approach him. Statistically speaking, there was a 75% chance that, if someone were to walk up to him, that person would be from one of the other three houses. Of course, it was the 25% of the student body that made up the Slytherin house that Robert should have been looking out for this morning.

The Ravenclaw gratefully accepted the napkin Burnett had offered him and used it to wipe off his face and attempt to clean up his robes a bit. Looking at his juice-splattered clothing though, it was obvious he was fighting a losing battle. Thankfully, he had enough time before his first class to go back to his dorm and change after breakfast, though. Finding a stack of napkins, he joined the Slytherin in cleaning up the rest of the table.

As he was wiping up the spilled juice, he heard the second-year say something, but he wasn't quite paying attention, and missed what he'd said. Instead of admitting that he'd zoned out again, he just nodded distractedly, hoping it wasn't something too important. Thankfully, he did catch the next thing the older boy had requested, for Robert to call him "Burnett," without the extra title. The Ravenclaw filed away that information, nodding again, this time in actual acknowledgement. "I hope I haven't inconvenienced you with my sudden appearance. Not beyond causing you to choke on your juice, at least." The Slytherin went on to ask a very astute question, about whether the reason Robert had decided to send a letter instead of confronting the other boy in person had been in a failed attempt to avoid such a "disastrous first impression."

Robert thought back to some of his other recent first impressions. From blurting out a random sentence to literally running into someone in the library, his other first meetings with Slytherin boys hadn't exactly gone off without a hitch. The first-year sheepishly smiled. "Well, that was definitely a factor." Having cleaned up the vast majority of the mess, he stared at the clump of wet napkins in his hand and looked around of a trash can. Not seeing any within throwing distance, he just put them back on the table, hoping he'd remember them after breakfast. Turning back to Burnett, Robert decided to focus on the reason he'd reached out in the first place. "Speaking of my letter, I take it that you are interested in my proposal?"

"No worries, I'm fine. It isn't the first time something like this has happened."

Robert's comment gave Jack pause. He wondered briefly what sort of things like that had happened to the first year before and how often, but thought better of asking. He didn't want to embarrass the poor Ravenclaw more than he might already have been. Besides, it wasn't really like it was any of his business.

Between the two of them, the table and most of other things the juice had touched were more or less dry and clean within a few minutes. Eventually, Robert responded to Jack's communicated hope with a sheepish smile and as admission of, "Well, that was definitely a factor.". For some reason, the words caused Jack to smile back. Perhaps it was the blunt honesty of it despite whatever pride or dignity might have been risked or sacrificed to confess it. After all, there were few things the Welsh boy valued more than honesty.

Jack noticed Robert look around a bit, but it wasn't until the Ravenclaw put the napkins down on the table that the Slytherin realized what he must have been looking for. This notion only caused him to beam even more brightly in both amusement and admiration.

"The house elves will take care of it," he assured the other boy, nodding toward the used napkins that had been set back down. "They seem to love being of service. They more they can do, they happier they seem to be." He again couldn't help a silent pondering of whether or not the other boy was familiar with house elves. Who knew? Perhaps he might have even had one of his own at home.

He was distracted from his musings by another question from Robert.

"Speaking of my letter, I take it that you are interested in my proposal?"

"I would have hoped my response letter and consequent urgency to meet with you in person as soon as possible might have been answer enough to that question," Jack teased in reply, his grin becoming a playful smirk. "Did you have anything particular in mind? Why the sudden offer? Are you a fan of debates?"

Jack tapped a finger to his chin in what he might have contrived to be a contemplative gesture. "I also have to wonder if wizard debates are any different from muggle ones. I wouldn't have thought so, but then again, I wouldn't have thought wizard chess would have been any different from muggle chess either. At least until I witnessed my first game of it."

@Robert Toukmond

Interacting with @Jack Burnett

Robert nodded as the Slytherin mentioned house elves, something the muggle-born had never heard of before. He made a mental note to add this subject onto his list of questions about the wizarding world, which, after a week and a half of living in the castle, was now a five page document he kept under his bed in the first-year dorm, organized into eight categories, each with multiple subcategories, and sorted in order of most pressing question. Whenever he had time, he would go down to the library with it and try to find some answer, but that normally ended up making the list grow rather than shrink.

Momentarily forgetting the literal monster that lived under his bed, Robert laughed at Burnett's teasing response to his earlier question. Happily diving into the subject that had been the reason he had reached out in the first place, the Ravenclaw started explaining what he'd been thinking of. "I don't have any experience in formal debates, but the informal ones I've had have been very fun, and I've been interested in competitive debate for a while now. The only problem has been finding a good partner. Most people are either too stubborn to logically explain the reasoning behind their opinion on a topic, or just don't care enough to have an extensive argument. I have done a bit of research on the subject though, and found a pretty good format called Lincoln-Douglas style debate." With anyone else, he would have jumped into a lecture on the particular type of debate, but something about Burnett urged the younger boy to see if he was already familiar with it. "Do you know anything about it?"

Robert's eyes widened as he considered the implications of both wizarding debates and chess. He could barely control the questions that came bubbling up at the mention of them. "Wizard chess? What's that?" he asked. "Erm, I'm a muggleborn, so this whole world is pretty different from what I'm used to. I guess you're one as well, if you just recently learned about wizard chess?" Pursing his lips, he tried to think of how magic would be used in a debate. "I guess you could use some sort of timed spell to force people to stop talking after a certain amount of time? Or maybe there's some sort of magical, unbiased, judging object you could buy that keeps track of good points from each side."