Over-Thanking it PV Flash Holmwood Finished

He let out a muffled groan muffled only by his journal as light tapping against wood reached his ears. It was a call back to reality, but absolutely an unwelcome one. He would prefer to stay in his little bubble of frustration and confusion instead of being brought aware of the hour that had been wasted and passed due to the fact he could not decide on simple phrasing. He would much rather stay in ignorance that this was a library and he had just made quite the ruckus. He cringed at the thought of getting in trouble due to a rule as minor as that, but right now he would consider the punishment if it meant the teacher that had to deal with him could assist him in his struggles of getting words on parchment.

"Yes ma'am- sorry ma'am- won't happen again." he mumbled out, his words muffled by the paper of the book.

He could not look the person judging him for his complaints in the eyes for the sake of him not wanting his heart to get turned to stone from the slightest negative glare. He hid his face, waiting to feel the watching presence leave and go about their day to raise his head up and get a full breath of air. Yet for some reason the presence never left. Instead, it spoke. And it knew his name.

It knew his name?

Well, the voice did in fact sound rather familiar; however, the tone did not seem to match with it. In fact, the voice sounded uncomfortably familiar. It was clear in his mind, but he could not seem to place his finger on it. It was nobody he had met this year- no no, he would be able to recognize their voices on the spot. They all had rather intriguing ways of speaking, but the memory of this voice was just itching at the back of his mind. A good detective would be able to at least recognize the voices of people he met. He would need to take note of that being a fatal flaw of his at some point.

He moved his head up from the book, propping his chin up on the center of the book as he looked up to see the boy's face. One quick glance at his eyes told him who it was. He had never quite met someone with eyes just the same as his; however, it would be impossible for him to forget Flash's face. After everything that had happened the year prior, of course he would recall who he was. The tone of his voice had always sounded far more stuck-up. It was only until their last meeting that he heard such a well-meaning sound mixed with his voice. He was the very reason his journal now was kept in a larger bag in order to keep it safe.

His eyes widened as he registered who he was and corrected his posture by propping himself up further on the table to the point he was sitting straight up in his chair. He slammed his journal shut. While they were on good terms, he intended to keep it that way.

"Flash?" he whisper-yelled. "I 'aven't seen you since before summer! I mean, I sorta see ya in the hallways but.. Y'know" he attempted to keep it quiet as he had done prior, but it came out more as nearly regular talking volume due to how startled he was.

He was shocked to see him. Sure he had seen him wandering along the corridors- and had he not heard his name whenever Quidditch was mentioned? He had never bothered to directly see a game, but even he knew Flash had to be involved with something to get his name around the school as he did. He never expected to talk to him again, yet here he was being far more polite than he was used to. Then again, he would have been far more surprised if he was being rude. Still, it was startling when he even seemed to care about what caused him to slam his head into his book.

"Nothin' is really bothering me besides some wording issues. What sounds better, 'Hey house elves' or 'Dear house elves'?" he paused for a moment, before breaking under no pressure whatsoever. "And I'm sorta outta parchment and I.. dunno how to write this letter or anythin' and it's really hard." he hastily added before sliding over his parchment with scribbled out words.

He looked down at the journal being protected in his hands. He knew well not to trust people with it after his incident with Flash, which truly was the biggest learning moment he had gotten despite his attempt to get him to understand potions.

"There's more in 'ere but they're really not all that important." he informed him, deciding it was for the best to not just hand it over

@Ross Stephens

If Ross had noticed the annoyance that was threaded in with Flash's tone he certainly did not show it. Ross had heard so many sentences along the lines of 'Calm Down' within a lifetime that he had gotten sick of it like when one had one too many of their favorite cereal. Except unlike Ross' ex-favorite cereal, he was never fond of the statement 'Calm Down' in the first place. It implied he could just choose to stop worrying, which Ross never seemed to be able to. No matter how many deep breaths he took, that was never the case. By now the words just rushed past him like water, so the tone did as well.

In fact, Ross had fixated on another part. The fact he offered to help. He knew well he needed the help and he was not going to be stubborn of it. He was more surprised by the offer than anything else. When someone told you to calm down, regularly there was no offer of assistance after. That was when it dawned upon him- Flash was attempting to calm him down.

"You'll help? I mean.. you don't gotta waste any parchment or anythin'..." he paused before realizing Flash could instantly take back his offer if he so desired. "please do,Isorta don't got any left... but i guess you sorta know that cause i just told you and all that" he rushed out, catching himself mid-mistake.

As the boy pulled out his own bag he felt instant dread and hope all at once. His help could be vital to him actually completing this note, and by now he just wanted it done after the hour he had spent just trying to write the first few words. On the other hand, it would seem far less personal with someone else writing it for him and it had been a long time since he had talked with Flash. What if he just got it all wrong and this ended up being a waste of time? There was no mystery to writing, no unsolved riddle. One had to make up the riddle when writing, and at times that could be an adventure on its own; however, like now, at other times it could be the most boring thing someone could choose to do with their time. Still, Flash was his last hope in this scenario. He decided to follow along, just for the sake of procrastination and desire to get on with his day.

"Well, they sorta deliver all sorts o' candy to the common room every hour or so. It's always real good and they never damage the train. Recently let me make some friends and such so I thought they deserved some sorta thanks. After all, imagine havin' to fill up a train full of candy and not having a single piece of it." he elaborated. "I was gonna put it in the lil train thing so when they filled it up they'd see it and all that." he confessed, seemingly a bit embarrassed of the whole plan when explaining it.

It had been on his mind for quite some time. It was a thank you that was bubbling to come out of his mouth, but it could not. After all, he had never seen a house elf for long. In fact, he was unsure if he could even identify one if asked. It would be difficult to thank one considering how awkward he was with people, he had no idea how awkward he would be with another species. He would have no way of telling who sent the candy as well as that.

In his rambling, he had noticed the boy take out a quill. He wondered if the color was natural, but part of him hoped otherwise. If it was, then that species would be long dead by now. He looked over at the parchment he was writing on.

'Greetings'

He already did not like the sound of that

@Ross Stephens

The remark did not dampen Ross' attitude merely due to the fact that he had no idea what the elves did in the first place. If anything, he was relieved. He was glad they were at least being paid to not eat the candy. Even then, Ross felt he would give into gluttony even with a wage on the line. At home he had always assisted with making cupcakes, but that usually meant at least one would be thrown right into his maw. If anything, it seemed the house elves were only exchanging one sin for another. gluttony for greed in a sense, but gluttony always seemed to fall into the same category as greed.

"No amount o' money can make up for a perfectly good treat. I'd say candy is a pretty fine payment. They 'aught to deserve some sort of thank you." he dismissed Flash's remark, keeping up his optimistic attitude.

He may have been frustrated, but he was determined to make sure his time had not gone to waste. Sure he did not know the first thing about elves; however, any living being loved a good thank you. That was just how people worked! Of course, he did not thank people much, but he felt now was the perfect time to do so. Besides, thanking people over letter was far easier than in person. He was certain if Flash had been in the same position of the elves he would have liked a good thank you note too.

"Mum and dad got thank you notes all the time for their food." he added as Flash began to write.

He attempted to glance at the words Flash was scribbling down onto the paper, trying to make sense of them. He took note of how neat Flash's handwriting was. Ross' handwriting was always difficult to decode in contrast, but he could never understand how people could neatly write down their thoughts.

The first sentence looked like gibberish the first time he read it. He skimmed it again and again until right as he felt he had the answer Flash turned to him and asked his opinion on the whole paper. Despite the fact he was wearing his glasses, he squinted at the writing in hopes the words would suddenly make more sense. He had never been excellent at literature, but the words felt a bit too much to be sincere. It was like he had taken out a dictionary and looked up a synonym for every perfectly fine word. He could hardly understand what the letter was saying despite knowing what the words meant. It felt off. It felt wrong in a sense. He tilted his head to the side, the look of confusion growing on his face.

"I mean it's.. fancy and all that, but it feels like some computer or somethin' wrote it." he paused, thinking for a moment about the possibilities of a half human half robot student writing notes with words directly from the dictionary. He smiled. Now that would make a book he would be interested in. He shook it off. "Seems sorta.. insincere and all that. 'ave you ever thanked someone in person?" he inquired, though it was not as if he could say much. every time he told himself he would thank someone in person he always managed to freak out and ended up not saying anything at all.

@Ross Stephens

Flash's confirmation of having thanked someone in person before was cold, rigid, and about the exact opposite tone that someone would want to be thanked with. Ross did not buy it for a second. If someone tried to thank him in the way Flash had just attempted to thank those house elves, he would have been certain someone was holding him at gunpoint. It was so formal in a way that someone had to be overthinking their thoughts. He had met many people who spoke as if they were writing a poem in the medieval times and he had never felt their speech was genuine until he managed to crack their cold layer. This letter felt exactly as what he had first seen Flash as- insincere, terrifying, and confusing. Just as he desired Flash to simply spit out what he wanted him to do when he had taken his journal, reading the letter made him feel the exact same way about the candy.

Ross should have known his own limits by now, but he kept pushing. As he read over the paper once more he realized this was clearly not going to get anywhere. Dread set in that he was wasting his time, but maybe he could get something out of him. When Flash got up there was a light of hope within him that maybe he was leaving and he could get back to work with his hopeless adventure; however, Flash instead began pacing. Ross tensed up as it dawned upon him this was clearly not going to end anytime soon.

"Well, how do ya thank people in person?" he inquired, hoping maybe this would click something in Flash's mindset

Each step Flash took caused Ross to be more and more uncomfortable. He felt if his head filled with anymore thoughts he was going to pop. Last year he would have shrunken into himself and informed Flash that his answer was perfect; however, he knew well that would not give him the satisfaction of what he had been working towards for an hour.

He remained dead silent, but despite how anxious he was to see what would become of the note, he still remained where he was. He fidgeted with the ring on his finger, occasionally glancing between it and Flash. Ross nearly yelped when he looked back up from the ring to see Flash walking closer, but the rules of the library prevented his outburst. He seemed far more calm, but Ross felt that was more intimidating than before. He could not help but wonder if maybe he himself could get away with putting a situation entirely on hold before returning to it as well. as Flash took a seat and attempted to justify Ross' complaint to himself, Ross felt uneasy.

"More o' something that I can understand on the first read." he joked, but he had a feeling he was walking on dangerous ground. He just needed to test it first- to see if he would be instantly set aflame for his crimes against humanity.

Ross watched as the boy attempted to write something. It was slow. That bothered Ross. How could someone write something so slowly? Would the thoughts not all be gone by the time the first sentence was down? There was a reason his journal was full of scribbles and random thoughts and it was because he could fill up to ten pages a day with how quickly he wrote.

The words were at least understandable this time. The words Flash said sounded as if he was about to be murdered, but instead Ross tilted his head to the side at the writing once more. He refused to back down, and whether this was foolish or confident was unknown to him. He grasped onto Flash's journal, likely tainting it with his lanky Hufflepuff fingers. He frantically reached around for his own quill, refusing to look up from the writing as he consistently missed it. He finally grabbed the familiar shape and dunked the tip in ink.

Kindly Kitchen Staff,
I wanted to thank you for sending treats to Hufflepuff every day. It brings a smile to our faces, as well as bringing us closer together. I would repay your kindness with a sweet treat if I could, but instead I hope this letter will show my sincere gratitude.

Thanks again,

He struck out several of the words with the ink, making a mess up of it while he was at it. Flash had given him a bright idea though- he could send them some candy from the Hufflepuff train and say it was for them. Did they eat it anyways? Ross would never know.

"I mean it's better" Ross hesitantly complimented. "But I dunno 'bout 'our'. Can't really speak for all of 'em and all that. and i COULD repay 'em with a sweet treat! I just sorta chose not to." he elaborated on his concerns, but they were far more anxious sounding than before. "Writin' the perfect letter is real hard." he added, hoping that it'd at least come off more gentle in a way. He worried less for Flash's feelings and more for his own life.