Of Disturbances and Interruptions PV Thomas

Thomas had simply been minding his own business, largely drowning out the idle chatter of his peers as he worked. In sharp contrast to his typical, mildly disgusted resting facial expression, he seemed oddly content. Such was the case whenever the boy was hard at work; it was uncanny, the half-smile on his face juxtaposed with the almost contemptuous glare he typically sported. As he studied, he seemed to grow more comfortable and more at ease, focusing on what he was reading instead of his surroundings.

All of which made the sudden interruption to his workflow all the more disheartening. As Gerald approached and offered Thomas a greeting, any sarcasm that the Slytherin boy may have been sporting fell totally flat. Tommy was somewhat dense, particularly since he hadn't been paying full attention to what Gerald said, so as he rose his head and gave his peer the most neutral, almost bored expression on his face, his reply held no bite, but also no enthusiasm. It was dry, his delivery, as he responded, "Don't know what about that'd surprise you. I think it makes a lot of sense that I'm here, actually, since this is the Study Room and I'm studying right now," he muttered somewhat bitterly, before realizing that his curt reply was probably unjustified. After all, to presume mischief or misconduct was rude, but remembering Gerald's house couldn't help but make him feel on edge. Almost all of his encounters with Slytherins thus far had gone... Less than kindly. It wasn't even his fault half the time, at least so he believed!

"And um, hi," Thomas added belatedly, a bit more expressive with his proper greeting than with his initial retort. "What brings you here, then? Astronomy got you down?" That was the only reason why Gerald would approach him, Thomas presumed, since they shared a class period. These days, that seemed to be the only reason why people talked to him outside of class: just to talk about what happened in class. It bored him to no end. As he inquired Gerald's purpose, there may have been a hint of mockery in his tone, although the boy's sarcasm was difficult to pick up on under most circumstances.

@Gerald Fawkes

"Don't know what about that'd surprise you. I think it makes a lot of sense that I'm here, actually, since this is the Study Room and I'm studying right now,"

With a grimace, Gerald watched his ironic remark fly past Thomas. No more sarcasm for Baines, then.

"Yes, I guess it does make sense," he mumbled, lips pursed.

Thinking it would probably be best to leave the boy alone, he opened his book, a bit too roughly perhaps, and lowered his gaze. The Study Room was not a place for socializing and Ravenclaws seemed to be particularly aware of that.

Before the blonde kid could get through the infamous paragraph once and for all, Thomas spoke again. Gerald fixed his eyes on him again, warily, and gave a curt nod to his "hi".

"Potions," he said, answering the other one's inquiry half-heartedly.

Judging from his tone, Baines sounded more eager to talk now than he had at first. Gerald, on the other hand, was not too sure whether or not he felt like carrying on with the conversation. Not only was the Potion's essay he was meant to write due tomorrow, but he also believed he'd probably mistaken Thomas for an approachable character; the Ravenclaw had certainly not seemed very approachable for the most part of their interaction.

Anyway, it would have been pretty hypocritical on Gerald's behalf to hold Baines' passive-aggressive initial reply against him; the Slytherin could not pride himself in being especially friendly on a regular basis, after all. He decided then that he wouldn't act like a complete git and proceeded to add to his last response, putting a much gentler tone this time.

"Looking forward to the summer?" he asked, choosing a topic right off the top of his head.

Gerald hadn't been thinking much about the imminent holidays. He missed Coventry and his family, of course, but it almost felt as if, over the year, Hogwarts had sort of become a second version of home for him. He knew fully well that the majority of the students were acquainted with this sentiment; he had even been warned about it, upon his arrival at the castle. At the time, he'd deemed it as a soppy idea, something that would remain foreign to him during the next seven years; after all, it was school they were talking about. Now, in the last stretch of his first year, he found he had been sorely wrong in his past assumptions.

"I hear some of my Housemates are embarking on some very fancy journeys for the holidays," he commented. A percentage of his fellow Slytherins had proudly manifested their families' intentions to ship them off to somewhere in Europe over the summer. "France, Sweden, even Latvia. I truly wish them the best of luck with getting along abroad. You see, many still struggle with their own language."

@Thomas Baines

"Potions," he said, answering the other one's inquiry half-heartedly.

Thomas hummed sympathetically, taking a brief respite from his work to pay closer attention to the conversation. The boy didn't carry much passion for the subject of Potions, which made its homework even more grueling than strictly necessary. Something about the rather precise, unyielding of nature of the work made him instinctively want to rebel, even if he was fully aware of the consequences of such. It was virtually the same with Transfiguration, another class with strict (but perceptively arbitrary) rules that could have severe consequences if broken. Still, as with all of his subjects, he worked hard to maintain an O average in those courses. He was laborious, even at twelve years old, and he wasn't about to stop that habit just because he didn't like a class. Even if such a work ethic was painful, Thomas believed it'd be worthwhile in the end.

"Looking forward to the summer?"

Shifting a bit, Thomas paused as he considered the question he was asked. It was something of a loaded question, after all. His mother was a muggle, so practicing his magic was largely out of the question when he was at home. Plus, Thomas harbored similar ideas to Gerald; Hogwarts had practically become a second home. He'd almost certainly miss the numerous friends he'd made throughout his studies and the day-to-day hustle and bustle of the castle. Still, he couldn't help but be a bit homesick; the boy had never quite managed to shake such sentiments, holding them practically since he arrived. "I think so. It'll be nice to see my family and live at home again," Thomas replied simply, something of a thoughtful tone coloring his voice. The Ravenclaw had long since outgrown his desire to hide his homesickness, deciding that he could deal with any chiding if it arose.

"France, Sweden, even Latvia. I truly wish them the best of luck with getting along abroad. You see, many still struggle with their own language."

Catching onto the subtle jab at his comrades, Thomas barely stifled a chuckle at Gerald's last comment, trying to remain quiet given their location. It felt good, all things considered, to laugh at one's peers. The Ravenclaw didn't like to perceive himself as someone with a blackened heart, but jokes at the expense of others seemed to hit just right. "Hopefully, while they have the translation dictionaries out in front of them, they can also learn a few words in English, too."

Still, Thomas couldn't help but feel just a tad jealous. His family wasn't poor, certainly, but they weren't well off enough to afford such lavish, luxurious vacations. In fact, the boy was hard-pressed to remember the last time he and his mother had even left Wales on holiday, even just to England for a bit. His mother always worked very hard, for very long hours, and time off were few and far between. Tommy, naturally, appreciated the effort she put in to make him as happy as could be, but it was mildly obnoxious to see someone born with a silver spoon when you were in such circumstances.

Attempting to push those unsavory thoughts aside, Thomas' expression forcibly brightened as he inquired, "How about you? Any European countrysides calling your name, or are you excited for a delightfully boring summer like me?"

@Gerald Fawkes

Gerald smiled at Baines' comment. Dictionaries, yes; a tool very much needed by some.

"The train ride home is as much countryside as I'll be seeing for the rest of the summer, I'm afraid," he informed the Ravenclaw, dipping his quill in the inkwell. "And I must say, Thomas, that 'delightful' is hardly fitting when it comes to grey, old Coventry. Boring, on the other hand; spot on."

Not that Gerald disliked Coventry (excessively), of course; it was home. He had lived a happy childhood there; likely not movie-worthy, but sufficiently pleasant nonetheless. In fact, the realization that his town would be looming about the bottom of a British-cities-ranked-by-how-much-fun-they-are list had only arrived a few months ago, while listening to his Housemates' growing up stories in gigantic manors and medieval estates. The middle class neighborhood in which he had been raised made for a rather lame comparison.

If given the chance, he would probably trade his impossibly narrow attached house for a southern villa without giving it much thought; then again, he was aware that pondering stupidly unrealistic chances was nothing but a way of fueling jealousy and hard feelings towards those who woke up to the view of three acres of field instead of a dilapidated brick wall. Not that being aware about something's inherently bad nature automatically meant being capable of distancing oneself from it. To rational-Gerald's dismay, jealousy and hard feelings were some of grudging-Gerald's favorite hobbies.

Given how Thomas had already assigned himself a 'delightfully boring' summer in his last question, Gerald assumed whichever his town was also left much to be desired. The blonde scribbled his Potions' paper title on top of the parchment set in front him, and without lifting his gaze from the homework, decided to question the brunette boy about his home town.

"What exotic British retreat are you going back to, then?" he asked and immediately let his lips curl upward at the thought of something. "Or better, let me guess. Is it football, whiskey or sheep that they love dearest in your city?"

@Thomas Baines