The Snakes, The Hags, The Shelves. PV. Caoimhe Kyle Closed

DATE ┊ 01/10/2023 -----OUTFIT ┊ click here-----HAIR ┊ click here-----MENTIONS ┊ @Avery Leveret-----
STATUS ┊ open-----WC ┊ 445/200-----ENGLISH ┊ "words"-----SWAHILI ┊ "words"-----THOUGHTS ┊ "words"

-----It was often that after lunch was dismissed, the young girl would utilize the library's expanse to seclude herself from distractions and bury herself in her studies after eating. If Caoimhe mind was not occupied, the girl would grow frantic and restless for excitement. It was the very reason Caoimhe was so easily persuaded to participate friends' escapades; the adrenaline being too good to not surrender to. But this library visit would serve her in other means aside from solitude; Caoimhe was on a mission.

It was a rare spectacle when Caoimhe caught whiff of upcoming Defense Against the Dark Arts curriculum from her friends; the next lesson focusing on "Hags" in which she had little knowledge. Of course, Caoimhe had heard several nursery rhymes as a child regarding hags eating children, but surely that was stuff of legend? Receiving tips from her friends earning her mates partial credit for her achievements, but Caoimhe would often return the favor in tutoring, practicing spells and tipoffs. Even if there was likelihood they had been misinformed, Caoimhe would heed the tip-off not risking the opportunity to educate herself on the subject. What better place to acquire a knowledge of hags than the library. Caoimhe spent several sleepless nights honing her skills in both wand technique and literature - her perfect grades being the result of her labor. The Slytherin would not allow herself to slow down in momentum.

As naturally expected, a horde of upper-class students hovered at the front of librarian's desk having little regard to not blocking the entrance. Oftentimes Caoimhe would dance around them trying to be polite and showcasing her gracefulness, but the young Slytherin was feeling a bit defiant today and craved the opportunity to send a message. Caoimhe swaggered through the throng not saying a word, but wearing a devious smile served as her reply. Some of the male population would send snarky remarks while others would compliment and flirt admiring a confident first year. Usually Caoimhe would respond with gratitude, but she'd simply wink and walk away this time. The girls within the crowd, however, did not take the bold act well and shouted extremities as Caoimhe sauntered off - ultimately being harshly shushed in response.

Slipping her wand into the opened pouch of her sage cross-body bag, Caoimhe continued towards the shelves designated for nonfiction "H" location before halting overlooking the tables and those who claimed them. Her mind tuned in to the task at hand before the next class's start. She'd peruse the shelves intently while occasionally pulling out a book from its assigned location to shift through its pages before returning them carefully. "Ugh," Caoimhe groaned to herself quickly growing frustrated.

Outfit:

Reducio

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	The pale boy had left his belongings on the table he had usually claimed, though his wandering meant that only a fine leather duffle was resident here for now. Avery was at home. Slowly, he began to lose himself in the magnificence of his place, something he craved far too often. He couldn’t quite explain it. There were people around sure, and he wasn’t the most people-person person in the world either but typically they were all there for a similar purpose to him. The library was one such place where he felt like he was escaping. Sure enough he’d had a few regrettable interactions here; those that disturbed his peace, but tucked away between these shelves he couldn’t help but feel at home. It was so disarming that he lost all awareness of those around him, unaware of the various people he was navigating past when on his search, even more unaware of that wearisome crowd at the desk or the fire-cracker that carved her way through it; what with him being so far away both physically and mentally. His mission wasn’t forgotten, per se. Whilst he knew he was looking for books on hags, his favourite part about spending his free time here was the feeling that the library was alive. It had a strange ability of presenting the most interesting books and tomes, or perhaps not the most interesting, but thought provoking titles on their spines. No, that one wasn’t to do. Harpies: A Study? Nope! And this one was about the various kinds of trolls and their alchemical value, what was that doing here? Avery must be going mad, surely the library wasn’t keeping tomes on hags from him and there was no way they were taken out by his gormless peers, it was more probable that they were in the restricted section! He himself had whisked through the various shelves, unknowingly dancing around them in tandem with her, on either side, rounding corners as the other did the same. Avery thought nothing of it, in fact his mind was entirely on his own task as he plucked books out, one by one, and yielding no results. Time was precious, and he didn’t have long before Flying. In a last ditch effort he rounded another corner, following the names on the tomes he started pulling at a thread; he thought he was onto something here. “H-A-D, H-A-F, Hafts Versus Handles: Wandlore, H-A-G. Ahah…” He spoke to himself, before he froze. There was someone in his periphery, someone that had likely been performing the same operation he had been. His turned his steel gaze to them, adjusting his eyes for the light that shone through the window behind them, instinctively smiling as he squinted his eyes in what probably looked like confusion. It wasn’t then until he realised that it was the girl he had seen at the lake…
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Interacting with@Caoimhe Kyle

DATE ┊ 3/5/2022-----OUTFIT ┊ click here-----HAIR ┊ click here-----MENTIONS ┊ @Avery Leveret-----
STATUS ┊ open-----WC ┊ 503/200-----ENGLISH ┊ "words"-----SWAHILI ┊ "words"-----THOUGHTS ┊ "words"

-----As Caoimhe initially overheard the whispering voice, she was immersed in the passage she was skimming from the book she was clutching in her hands. Although trying not to be apparent, she couldn't help but glance to the side to see who was speaking and what the subject would be from his lips. As the boy spelt out the exact subject she had been seeking, she was intrigued to speak with him. It wasn't every day that a person wanted to search for information regarding Hags; Caoimhe had no doubt that he had been informed about the upcoming assignment in DADA as well. She gently closed her book and returned it to its location before approaching the boy.

She approached the lad smirking down the aisle, but Caoimhe stopped in her tracks after recognizing it was a face she didn't desire seeing yet again. They attended several of the same classes, but after their initial encounter, Caoimhe made a concerted effort to avoid him. She did not like how they got along; Caoimhe was aware that she shared some of the blame for her attitude on the day they met, but something about the haughty expression in his eyes infuriated her.

Yet there was something about the lad Caoimhe liked. Avery was undoubtedly remarkable and acted more maturely than most guys his age. Caoimhe admired the Slytherin's confident demeanor, stylish appearance, and fixed gaze. Caoimhe had a great deal of respect for him since he did not mince speech, too. He was straightforward, tough, and honest, even when it made her feel upset. Caoimhe didn't mind, though, as she was aware that the witch could not let her feelings persuade how she lived or practiced her magic.

"Hey Avery," Caoimhe spoke with a small smile, glancing at the book in his hands and the section he had taken from. Naturally, it would be the only book about Hags on the shelf. Caoimhe let out a quiet, exasperated sigh as she realized she would have to postpone her research on the subject.

Caoimhe smiled and added, "Enjoy your read," with true intent. She disregarded their last interaction and was reluctant to cause the boy to resent her. Caoimhe was without qualms with maintaining acquaintances but disliked the thought of developing intense, hateful rivalries during her first year of school. Or at least, not with Avery, as she found herself drawn to the boy after observing his dueling skills. 'Don't make him an enemy. Maybe I could partner with him in dueling....but not until I equip myself with a proper arsenal of hexes and charms, that is,' she mused with a cheeky smile. Caoimhe was hesitant to ask the lad whether she could study with him since she didn't want to interfere with his studies. Maybe by some miracle, Avery would lend it to her after he was done or assist her work toward her objectives as well. "That was an incredible duel, by the way," referring to his duel with Ava in late November.

Outfit:

Reducio

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	Avery was often caught smirking. Most of the time it was one that was born of judgement or tease, but this one was a sense of accomplishment that he had found the needle in the rather large haystack. Caoimhe addressed him, and it took him slightly by surprise as he wagered he had left a bad impression after their first meeting. That didn’t usually phase him, he often left bad impressions and he got on with his life; as he had done near this very shelf on one of the first days of school. Though, this was one impression he thought he might grow to regret; whether it be because she was an attractive girl or whether it was because he saw potential in her, he couldn’t tell. Part of him didn’t yet want to know the answer as to which it was, but another part knew that if he doubled down on his rather unfriendly tone; it could all end in tatters anyway. “Caoimhe.” He said with a small nod, before she had sighed. Avery squinted slightly, she seemed indifferent to him, which again he didn’t mind, but she seemed more concerned with the book in his hands. After he shifted his gaze between her and the book, he took a chance and went to speak to her directly, though she cut him short as she surprised him yet again. She had complimented his duel with Winchect. After all, she had been there in the stands, and he had noticed her, of course he had. Although it was the start of his duelling experience, and there was much to think about, how could have not noticed her. There she was again, putting him on the back-foot and disarming him of his cold spite. He hated it. “Um. Thanks.” Was all he could manage, he wasn’t used to compliments, whether it was true or not. His pale cheeks had flushed with pink life, finally a sign that he was living and not a vampire. Quickly he had to recover, before she continued on. He cleared his throat and animated his face, smiling thankfully at her. “It was pretty, cool.” Cool? What was he saying? Her smile made him avert his eyes to the book he held, scratching the back of his neck. “Ahem, were you looking for this as well? - It’s the only one I’ve found.” He said, then, keen to move on lest his twisted-into-knots stomach made him say something else. “I just needed to make a few notes before Flying class. - Word is Hags will be coming up in the spring syllabus, but I bet you already knew that.” He gave his token smirk again.
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[center] Interacting with @Caoimhe Kyle[/center]

DATE ┊ 01/10/23-----OUTFIT ┊ click here-----HAIR ┊ click here-----MENTIONS ┊ @Avery Leveret-----
STATUS ┊ open-----WC ┊ 368/200-----ENGLISH ┊ "words"-----SWAHILI ┊ "words"-----THOUGHTS ┊ "words"

-----Did she catch Avery Leveret blushing? Caoimhe could not trust her eyes at the sight, but she did not intend to risk his embarrassment by mentioning it. A portion of Caoimhe enjoyed whatever pleasant connection this was; she had once felt awkward whenever their paths crossed or as if she were treading on eggshells in his company. This was different, weird but pleasant.

Caoimhe was left feeling annoyed after their previous meeting at the lake, but she had long ago forgotten this following his battle with Ava. She  nearly swore she glimpsed the actual Avery Leveret from her perch in the stands with Duvessa. A human being - not the cold, scornful, and conceited Pureblood Caoimhe pegged Avery to be. Just another stereotype. She saw him experiencing happiness, worry, and perhaps even anxiety, but he loved the sport no doubt. The real him. This component of his personality piqued her curiosity and made her feel in some way proud. It was exciting to watch him doing what he seemed to enjoy the most. After all, it was his first duel, and she wished to see more of that aspect of him.

That was a sensation she didn't really comprehend, nor did she know why she felt it. It originated in the spectator stands of the duel, and Duvessa inquired of her composure, but Caoimhe could not find the words to explain. Part of her wondered whether it was due to him not being a vampire after all, but she was also intrigued by the fact that he was rather attractive and a competent wizard. This was out of character for her to have these feelings about someone, but Caoimhe realized it had to be strange for him as well. She could tell by the manner in which he spoke, and she couldn't help but flush at his smile. Something she did not anticipate seeing outside of the dueling arena.

"In fact, I was," Caoimhe answered with a sheepish grin as he acknowledged the book in his hands; she had almost forgotten that she was researching hags taken aback by their conversation.
"Would it be alright if I took notes with you? I'd really appreciate it. I'm in a bit of a rush before History of Magic." 

She did not like the course and rather preferred a subject that was more engaging, but she would not confess this out loud in case he liked that class. 

Caoimhe appreciated the boy's offer and hoped he wouldn't mind, since she didn't want to make him late for flying class. And there it was, his signature smirk, which she had previously considered punching but now perceived differently. Caoimhe returned it almost in sync with him before inquiring: "Do you already have table?"

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	-----Avery’s smirk softened a tad, though it had more to do with his self-criticization that he hadn’t paid more attention to her. She was certainly notable outside of this interaction, but he hadn’t been as receptive to her as she seemed of him; that he could tell in her fixed hazel eyes. There had certainly been people he had been wary of, names he was told to avoid, people he had queried when he had gone back to Bath for the Christmas break, but Caoimhe Kyle wasn’t one of them; so he made a mental note to ask about her when he next saw or went to owl his mother. How could he turn around and say no now, when she’d made him look a fool. And if she hadn’t, he felt it, and it wasn’t something he was soon to forget. For now, he welcomed the slight distraction. His aforementioned lack of observation was troubling, but this was the opportunity to make up for it, he thought. From their limited interactions, she was a talented girl that just needed a boost. Naturally, Avery was sure to avoid people like that; what time he spent on other people was not spent on furthering himself or his own aims, and for now he had no intention of sharing that. But here he was, the proud, pureblood boy, about to share one of his favourite places in the castle with someone he didn’t really know, someone he couldn’t be sure of, someone that strangely unsettled him or rather; someone he was unsettled around. Her smile was endearing, and her smirk even more so. He had to be careful here. “It- yes I suppose. - It’s the table with the brown duffle.” He hesitated, before gesturing past her as if his table was in the direction she came, though he turned and ,oved out of view beyond the shelves; back the way he came but generally in that direction. Assuming she followed, he’d continue: “History of Magic is boring as anything, it’s why I chose the table near the histories. You don’t find many people here.” He said, thinking that he sounded a bit too common, but he dismissed his thoughts about propriety as he almost glided over to his chair to take his seat at the desk. After setting the book down, the boy pulled out some vellum, a small velvet lined case that held his short black quill and a small sealed pot of ink that he set onto the desk nearby. He shifted his eyes between his stuff and Caoimhe, this was going to be more awkward than he cared to admit. “I’ve seen you in class but I didn’t know you were interested in it. Defence against the Dark Arts, I mean…” He said as he gestured to the book and offered her to skim it before they jointly devoured and made use of its secrets.
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Interacting with @Caoimhe Kyle

Seeing this version of the very boy she previously disliked was unnerving, to say the least. Caoimhe liked this form of conversation though, as it was one of the few times she felt in control of the narrative and was able to exert some influence over him through her girlish charm. She had no intention of manipulating Avery, but she enjoyed having the upper hand in their game, which he normally reigned. If it could even be described as such. Caoimhe liked the challenge and growth despite the occasionally draining and frustrating nature of their little competition they held in some of their shared classes with one another, trying to outdo the other in competence.

She acquired a different opinion over the boy over time as much as Caoimhe did not want to admit to herself, and even grew to occasionally enjoy their competitive exchanges in and out of classes. It enabled her to witness her own growth and experience pride, neither of which she was previously able to do, and of course, she was improving in wand-work and focus via observation and practice.

All of this would have been more difficult to accomplish without Avery, and she considered thanking him, but she remained wary and wouldn't let him get that close to the real her. Yet, if it meant anything, she had nothing to hide from him. He had already seen her that morning at the lake at what she considered one of her lowest points, so she had nothing to conceal moving forward. Caoimhe believed that Avery would be able to detect dishonesty after all this time anyways, but she refrained from testing her assumption in case her notion was true.

The black haired boy explained the whereabouts to his table and signaled for her to follow him there. It was generous of him to share the residence he claimed to regularly prefer. Similarly to his name when he presented himself at the lake, it was another piece of information that he disclosed to her that felt like a gift in Caoimhe's eyes. Caoimhe also had a favored getaway location: the Astronomy Tower but only on the weekends when she could be alone under the stars, presuming she could enter without alerting a prefect. She wondered if he had ever been there, but ultimately abandoned the notion of asking or even suggesting it. The mention of History class brought her back to focus as she followed behind, but taking much faster paces due to their height difference.

"That's smart. History is boring, indeed, and the professor tries a bit too hard to look cool and 'hip' with us," she chuckled wryly, pulling out her seat from across of Avery smiling sheepishly looking down. This was definitely a lot more awkward than Caoimhe expected, but this was also going a lot farther than she'd ever imagine.

She extracted from her small handbag a cerulean velvet-lined case housing her short white quill, parchment and a lilac-colored ink pot. All colors that evoked memories of her home. She opened the lid to her ink before dipping the tip of the quill gently, tapping any excess off before skimming the words and writing any note-worthy information.

There was a brief silence, but Avery's question perked her attention and she looked up with a small, innocent smile slightly caught off guard: "Oh, I love it...Defense against the Dark Arts, I think I got it from my dad." she explained before trailing off taking another note, "But what about you? You're a natural...Surely that's your favorite class?"

@Avery Leveret

• AISLE BEYOND THE HISTORIES AND CLOSE TO THE MAGICAL ENCYCLOPEDIAS •

The Library | 10th January 2023
wc: 717
Avery's Speech
Caoimhe's Speech

· || ────────────────── ────────────────── || ·

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	-----A very couldn’t help but notice the contrasts between them. He was pale, and she; colourful. He liked solace and isolation, whereas he suspected she was a kind of social butterfly that he could only pretend to be. She used a white quill and he, a black one. – At least they both kept their quills and quill-cases an appropriate size; he wasn’t too fond of the giant feathers some of the students wielded. Whilst occasionally fancy; this was an item in which he thought bigger did not mean better, and instead looked rather indigent or hard-up, much like the common pointy wizard hat. Short quills were sharp, and professional looking and his didn’t extend beyond his wrist. It was rather poetic that his quill seemingly matched the boy where his wand did not, and he was lest thinking about the observation he had made at the lake; thinking about if her quill was the same; practically hoping for it to be the case… He caught himself, he was being an asshole and he knew it. To wield a cherry wand was deemed a status symbol, but what could it really mean. In that moment, his appreciation for the fact that this was the second time he had bumped into her outside of lesson time, as she looked to further herself and her studies was a testament to her character. Besides, he could do without nearly starting another fight in the library, especially if she was as powerful as his growing suspicions, suspected. He kept scratching away at the parchment, occasionally dipping the quill-tip into a small pot of ebony black ink to make his notes as they shared in a few moments of awkwardness. He couldn’t expect anything else out of this, and nor could she. They were both present at their first real encounter, and both were under no illusions of something that wasn’t, at least he liked to think. She vexed him, and he reckoned she knew it. They were both game-players, and she had somehow gotten the jump on him in this round, rigging the board so that he was on the backfoot. "Oh, I love it...Defense against the Dark Arts, I think I got it from my dad."She said with a small smile that was almost sickly, or one he wished he thought was sickly as he gave an uncertain smile back, glancing back at his notes. "But what about you? You're a natural...Surely that's your favourite class?" She added. “I need to be careful around you, you’re a natural charmer.” He gave with a curled smirk, best to respond with some kind of acknowledgement instead of leaving her compliment in the dirt. “Thanks,–” He added more genuinely. “-- I suppose you could say that I got it from my dad too.” He gave, with a notable mysterious air left in his tone; one he likely wouldn’t address as he let it hang there. This opening didn’t feel like one he’d appreciate being exposed so soon in their games, but it was something he had opened himself up to if she so chose the path of boldness and he didn’t quite know how he’d react to that. “It’s a close second. Charms is my favourite. Whilst both are practical, the nature of spellwork is more interesting than doxies, or– hags.” He broke a smile then, gesturing to the crude illustration in the book. He wasn’t lying. Much like her, he felt as though he could be honest with her, but he would keep her at an arm's length for the meantime, even if he did think that Defence Against the Dark Arts was going to change places in their future lessons. He was revealing too much, back to probing: “Is he an Auror?” He gave carefully, refining his smile and sharpening his gaze to observe any physical tensions that came with that; it was something he thought would be prudent to know; both that fact in relation to his own father, and her relations with hers. Though she had the power to take that and turn it back on him, he did not expect that of her.
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Interacting with @Caoimhe Kyle

DATE ┊ 1/10/23-----STYLE ┊ robes & hair-----MENTIONS ┊ @Avery Leveret-----WC ┊ 415/200
-----ENGLISH ┊ "words"-----FRENCH ┊ "words"-----ARABIC ┊ "words"

-----There was a shift in the energy of the atmosphere between the two snakes in the library.

There was an air of almost unexplainable mystique that pervaded their dialogue, and it was firmly interwoven with what they were discussing. Fathers.  From the moment when they had first met at the lake, Caoimhe had not lost sight of her objective of discovering the truth behind Avery's background. The Leveret's bad ilk was frequently mentioned in some rumors of the common-room, which only served to fuel the fire to her cause. 

Her progress toward uncovering the truth was hindered, but Caoimhe was unsure about the reason this occurred. Caoimhe was confused as to whether the fact that she was too concentrated on her own goals that occupied all her free time, or her dread of what she may unearth was the source of her slow pace. Perhaps Avery would reveal his own upbringing saving Caoimhe the trouble? Yet she wasn't convinced whether she could put all of her faith in the boy because, at the end of the day, he was her competition.

"Yes, he is," Caoimhe answered while dabbing her quill in her ink pot while taking notes, slightly grimaced at the illustration upon the page. Talking about her father was not necessarily something Caoimhe preferred to do. To be blunt, she was not even convinced if it was appropriate to refer to him by that title. She did love him, and she hoped that her feelings were reciprocated by him. Yet as time went on, they became less and less close. Her brother claimed he choose his family inheritance over his non-Pureblood kin, and they were all disowned because their tainted bloodline.  But on the other hand, it's possible that this was just another myth fueled by rage. Caoimhe held onto hope that this was all it was. With each letter unanswered, Caoimhe's hope was fading.

"What about your father? Is he also an auror?" Caoimhe put forward this query not just to divert the topic of conversation away from her father, but also to get a head start on her dig into Avery's psyche. His answer would be the floodgates which would reflect whether or not investigating the Leveret was worthwhile in terms of both time and effort. She was unsure of the response that she should anticipate him giving her at this point.

Avery Leveret was shrouded in mystery, so Caoimhe quite literally sat on the edge of her seat waiting for the answer.