Journals, secrets,friends? PV Leonard O Closed

Hogwarts was a strange, strange place, Leonard decided.

He decided that long before, of course. Ever since he'd heard tales of games played on levitating cleaning supplies and sticks that could make something double its previous size with a flick and a word, it was quite obvious that the castle was much more than the average, stuffy boarding school. But there was much more to add to the peculiarity of Hogwarts, the most prominent of which were the people, and the emotions that came with the people. Studying could have been so much easier if there weren't a bunch of people throwing themselves around the halls like it was the end of the world.

There was something of a spectrum, a sliding scale. There were those who had circles around their eyes darker than the pits of Tartarus, those who sweat so much upon mention of the examinations they could fill several bodies of water, and those who ran around without a single care for the upcoming letter stating their inevitable failure. Really, there was no point in grouping any of them, they were all around the same level of pure annoyance to him. Even he was not an exception to being a nuisance to his own person. It was something of a paradox, a cycle he was stuck in: he wasn't stressed about the exams, not in the slightest. And then he became stressed about not being stressed enough. And then some other first year would come along, and he'd turn his completely unwarranted and yet ever present wrath upon them. As with every cycle he experienced, he decided he would end such a thing. And, again, as with every cycle he experienced, it was easier said than done.

Or perhaps not, he thought, as he saw a familiar face. One he recognised, thankfully, not from any terrible interactions. Her name was something along the lines of Lucille, and they had met once before. Hopefully he could reduce the amount of awkwardness he'd had during their first encounter.

"Hello," he said, approaching her. She was holding a book, one with no title, and one Leonard couldn't recognise. No matter, as long as she hadn't stole it. "Remember me? We met in the library. I'm Leonard. What's that you're reading?"

He felt a slight bit of relief after the girl clarified her own name. Though they were nearing the end of the school year, his skills in social situations had evolved to only be slightly better, finally learning how to shake hands without immediately wishing to wash his.

Leonard tried to keep eye contact, but his vision kept on dashing to the book. He'd been in the library many times since they'd first met, and he'd never seen something quite like it. Most he'd read had at least some form of embossed letters on it, even if the paint was chipped beyond recognition or a page or four was missing. This was more like the things he'd seen in muggle convenience stores, a simple dark blue, no intricate patterns of spells unknown and marks forbidden.

"Yeah, it's been a while. You been good lately? Find that book on Quidditch you wanted?" He asked, unsure of what else to say. Their mutual acquaintanceship was built on books, quite literally, and though he was a scientist at heart, experimenting with topics in conversation with another human being was much more scary than chemically-curated explosions.

Before he knew it, the leather bag along with its various quills, ink pots, assorted homework that Leonard had forgotten to do fell to the side, scattering around the floor. While his manners did cover the bare basics, he decided on a whim to do something more, for once. The Ravenclaw would likely not want to associate someone who couldn't do such things, basing off her want for friends he'd learned of when they first met. Besides, he could get a look at the book that he'd quickly become ever so curious, even if it was just a peek.

"Here, let me help you with that," he said, searching for the midnight blue cover among the rest. He grabbed it and quickly scanned the pages, not lingering on any in particular. It seemed to have been handwritten, he noticed, before handing it back to the owner. "I believe this is yours. Is it some sort of notebook for classes? Doesn't look like it's been printed."