Professor's Office WIP

The dark ink spread like ivy across aged parchment underneath the brisk scratch of Cy's pen. In truth, her elbow ached - that was, of course, to be expected, especially when she'd been writing for more than an hour without rest already, and even more when the writing had to be checked every few seconds for tilting. It was high time to take a break, after she'd finished the last paragraph.

The telltale song of glass on glass pinged through the office gently. Her lips tilted slightly; few people had approached her so far, and those who did were usually more direct about it - whomever this was seemed hesitant to speak, at least of now. Perhaps a first year? Those did tend to be shy. The scratch of the pen - quills were too difficult to control; she'd sometimes end up missing the inkwell - paused, indecisive, before the thin instrument was set down, and her head finally turned up toward the doorway.

She'd used the curtain of beads precisely so that she could hear anyone entering her office. The likelihood that she would miss the footsteps in the first place was minute, but it was true that she could sometimes be so absorbed in her work that she'd forget to listen. Glass against glass, though - that drew her attention far more than footsteps; besides, any footstep could be from students outside, simply passing by the entrance, not someone looking for her in particular. The curtain was a far more practical choice.

Cy smiled. She'd come across as soft to a majority of students, she knew; at least she did before they received their homework back, fully graded. Perhaps it was the shrewd words with which she provided commentary that scared the students away... actually, scratch perhaps, it was most definitely why many regarded her as harsh and preferred to favor her sister's lively lessons over her own, but there did exist the few who found Transfiguration as fascinating as she.

"Well, don't just stand there," the young woman chided of the student - by now, she felt it safe to assume that this was a first year - as she reached to cap her pen. The click coincided with the tick of her clock. Cy's hand automatically traveled upwards to adjust the knot at the back of her head, tails trailing down to the nape of her neck. The blindfold seemed to settle people; why, she was uncertain, but ever since Aoi had given her the first upon graduation, one had stayed on her whenever she was in public. The dark crimson silk was soft against her skin, and the professor had long grown accustomed to its presence.

Besides, it was students like these, the more timorous, that she needed to settle. "May I help you?" she prompted. Several of the more shy children required an inquiry of her own before gaining the courage to speak their minds; others, of course, not so much. Judging from the hesitation that this one had exhibited so far, however, he or she seemed more the prior than the latter.

A young male voice, slightly nervous - nothing out of the ordinary. Cy set her pen in its holder, feeling around for the familiar block of etched wood, and tested the parchment for smearing before rolling it up gently with a few deft gestures of her fingers. The ink of pens tended to dry much faster than that of quills.

The young woman smiled as she listened. She'd been a nervous First-Year once, too, stumbling over her words and tinting red in embarrassment. The nervousness had persisted well through her Second Year, too, and continued until the middle of the Third Year, when she realized that the professors were not bothered by her presence and did actually want to help. Only time could convince her, though; any other signs were lost in her nervousness.

Truth to be told, she wasn't certain that she would be any better - that she could convince this first year that she was approachable. Did she really need to, though? Even she knew that her ink was scathing on paper, even as her voice was sweet in person. Time would tell her own students not to be so nervous, just as it had taught her to calm down. No, perhaps she did not need to convince him like she had convinced herself. Aoi was always better at such matters, anyway.

"You're not interrupting," she replied with a slight smile, no more than a suggestion to her lips. "My classroom is always open to students to study or work in, as long as I'm in here. If I wasn't, you wouldn't be able to get inside in the first place." The young woman gestured at the curtain of beads offhandedly; her thoughts transitioned from the student and landed on grading homework. She drew them back determinedly. "But thank you for asking, Mr....?"

Her brow raised slightly in question. Perhaps she'd graded the student's work already, perhaps not. For a moment she considered him, wondered how well or poorly he might write his homework. What did he intend to do in her classroom, anyway? Maybe study, do homework? As long as he didn't disturb anyone or anything, she wouldn't mind.

He really was a nervous one, wasn't he? Well, she couldn't force him to be at ease. Students at Hogwarts these days seemed to be one or more of awkward, hyperventilating or just plain dead. The last tended to apply to the upperclassmen and was by no means a new one, but the First and Second Years tended to take on the the prior two. She couldn't blame them; her reputation as a grader was spreading quickly.

Henry Reed. She'd do her best to remember the name and voice; most likely she'd forget it, ask for it again, and apologize if she'd already heard it. First Years really were so sweet. Perhaps a little less formality would stop them from being scared away - she'd noticed herself that her words were more formal, more professor-like and less casual when she was acting the role of scary professor. Around Aoi or other professors, on the other hand... not so much.

"Yeah, of course. As long as you're quiet enough so that none of my other students are disturbed, go ahead." She could understand the need to be alone - sometimes she'd even snap at Kimi to go away when she needed her time; fortunately, Aoi was usually understanding enough. Cy crossed her legs, waving a hand toward her classroom. Did that seem dismissive? Hopefully not. It was meant as an invitation towards her classroom, not a warning to get out of her office, she realized too late. Oh, well.

"If you need anything, feel free to come ask me - for future reference, you don't have to ask before you come in here, as long as you're quiet, all right, Mr. Reed?" She got his name right, right? Yes, she did. Oh, Henry Reed, Cy had graded his homework already! Unfortunately, she didn't remember how he'd done. Probably badly; most people didn't tend to do well on their first homework. Failure helped them to learn; if anyone achieved straight O's, she'd be looking out for them, although at this point in time few of her students seemed suspect.

The mention of reading brought her a little wistfulness - in Hogwarts, things such as audiobooks did not exist, and even though she could legere other peoples' homework, written on single sheets of paper, the spell didn't quite work on books unless she re-casted it. Every. Damn. Page. And so she hadn't read for ages, even as the longing for a good story poked at her; Aoi didn't have the time to read to her, and braille was a bore. The least she could do was offer this young mind a chance to read.

She wasn't that small. At least, that was what Koko Riddle told herself. After a few older Gryffindors started picking on her for her height, she had run through the hallways to avoid them. All she wished for was a little bit of peace, and here was the place to get it:

Transfiguration.

It was a difficult subject, so hopefully no troublemakers would be coming to the room to do their homework. Did troublemakers even do their homework? She wasn't sure. What she was entirely sure of, though, was that it was very unlikely for anything terrible to happen.

But to ask if she could enter would be the most courteous thing to do. It would not at all be kind of her to just barge into the classroom, no matter how desperate she was. So she would try and be respectful.

The office was beautiful to the golden eyes of the First Year. She ducked through a beaded curtain hung on the doorway, a creative and practical touch. At first she said nothing, only eyeing the room. Koko took in every little detail to the best of her ability, but there was never enough room inside of her head to cram it all in.

There were books here, too, and that was part of what grasped the Slytherin's attention. Books were a favourite of hers - she could and would read all day, every day, if she had the chance. Of course, she didn't, and now that she was an active student, it was very difficult to find time to read.

And then there was the fabric. All the quills and inkwells. So much beauty in this room, but only certain eyes could easily see it. Koko felt the urge to compliment on the room, and only then did she notice that she had just walked in and hadn't said anything.

"P-professor," the girl started, worries already starting to flood her mind. Had she done anything wrong by standing there for what had felt like ten minutes? Had she forgotten her earlier motive to be polite. "I-I'm terribly sorry for m-my intrusion," she stammered. "I-I'm sure you have something... something better to d-do than talk to a First Year like me," she said again. Am I stammering? Koko wondered. Yes, you moron, she answered herself. You are stammering.

"I just had a few questions..." Koko said softly, sliding her hands behind her back. She was beginning to feel somewhat guilty, though she couldn't understand what for. "If you're too busy to answer them, t-that's fine." She had begun to speak slower, which made her stuttering recede greatly. Every once in a while she would trip over her words as her proper English accent got tongue-tied, but otherwise it was much better than it had been prior to the change in speed.

Koko glanced around the office once more. There was an air of professionalism to it - of course there was, it was the office of a professor, wasn't it? "It's very pretty in here. I honestly do like the beads strung on the door. They're not only for aesthetic, I believe. Anyway, it's a very nice touch." Was she talking too much? Koko bit her lip and looked down, crossing one leg behind the other. Her voice had begun to grow softer as she reached the end of the final sentence. Evidence of just how shy she could be, especially when talking to someone of so much authority.

Her shoes... These ballet flats were so engrossing that she could just stare at them for hours... That is, if she were feeling nervous. Otherwise, she might be talking away, or just reading a book. A book, she thought longingly, gazing at the ones in the room. She hadn't been carrying a book when the Gryffindors had picked on her; instead, she had her Transfiguration homework folded neatly and held in her hand. That was one reason that she had come into the room.

Koko shuffled her feet. She didn't feel awkward, she just felt... nervous. She would finally admit it, she felt nervous. She hadn't spoken to a professor yet, other than the Headmaster, and Headmaster Lear was... Well... There were no words in her vocabulary to describe Professor Lear.

"I'm sorry if I did anything wrong," Koko said, even quieter than before. But somehow, she had no doubt that the Professor Cy could hear it.

Another student had entered the room now - a shy one, based on the stutters that she could hear in her voice. Cy willed a sweet smile to her lips, something that seemed to comfort the shy ones for some reason. It had never worked on her in her younger years, when she was shyer and more timid like them, if that could be imagined. Probably because she couldn't... actually... see it.

"You know, as it develops, I actually don't have anything better to do, dove," she informed the nervous girl, resting her chin on a hand thoughtfully. "After all, talking to First Years is pretty high priority. There really aren't that many things that outrank it, and as of now none of them are on my schedule. So what do you need?"

The young woman grinned at the comment about her curtains, reaching her hand towards the entrance as if to brush her fingers through the strands. "They're useful for letting me know if someone comes in, and they give me some privacy without me needing to run into a door every time I forget that it exists. And... here comes someone else." Cy raised her gaze from her desk again - metaphorically - to focus on the tintinnabulation that rung from the front of her office.

"Hey, Heather," she greeted. Really, people these days were more shy than she remembered even she'd been, though she supposed that if she told anyone now how soft-spoken she used to be, she doubted anyone would actually believe her. Oh well. There was nothing Cy appreciated more than someone who took the courage to speak up and ask for help on something they didn't do well enough on of their own accord. "I'm glad. I can help you on both parts of that, but what's your idea?"