@Leonard Oaksworth

Being back in an inherently magical place felt strangely exciting somehow, as if something inside Ruka had been longing for confirmation that he wasn't just delusional and magic really did exist. After two years he would have expected his brain to have understood it wasn't just making things up, but apparently it still struggled with the concept sometimes, especially after spending close to two months in a Muggle household.

So entering Diagon Alley, dressed in a simple green shortsleeved T-Shirt showing off the scars scattering his arms, and ripped grey jeans, had put a bounce into his step and a glint into his eyes as he had made his way through various shops with his brother to get their supplies for the coming school year. It hadn't taken too long, however, for him to part ways with Jack so he could spend some extra time in Flourish and Blotts, roaming the bookshelves for interesting titles. There were books that seemed to disappear and reappear in different locations, some that yelled out insults at people opening them, and some that actually had teeth, but those weren't the ones Ruka was drawn to.

No, over the summer he had learned to appreciate all sorts of stories, so the shelves he was so fixated on were those mostly looked at by kids younger than him; Shelves full of fables and fairytales, short stories, pages filled with treasures and adventures, witches who were none and corrupted heroes fighting misunderstood villains. His fingers traced the back of the books reverently as he passed them until they stopped over the title The Tales of Beedle the Bard, tilting the book out of its spot on the shelf with a little smile on his face.

Ruka had heard of the title before but the book itself was new in his hands, unfamiliar and intriguing, urging him to flick through the pages just to get a little taste for it before deciding if he really wanted to devour it all.

"Babbitty Rabbitty and her Cackling Stump," he read out loud, pulling a grimace at the words, though it soon turned into a little smile when he realised the story was not about a cute bunny frolicking through the fields. A misleading title was certainly enough to spark his interest once more.

Flicking to yet another story, Ruka blindly walked his way to a broad stack of books, heaving himself up to sit on it as his eyes skimmed the pages. "The Warlock's Hairy Heart," he read to himself again, letting out an amused little chuckle. "What's with those titles?" Shaking his head, he rolled his shoulders, straightening his posture as he looked up from the book just to make himself aware of the fact that he was still surrounded by people, no matter how lost he had gotten in the printed words for a moment. At least this particular area was mostly occupied by young kids who were far too concerned with finding fun picture books to pay him any mind whatsoever.

At least he didn't have to worry about his occasionally reading aloud disturbing anybody. It didn't seem like anybody had even noticed him at all.

So humming to himself for a second, Ruka flicked to the beginning of the book, deciding to read at least partly through the first story; The Wizard and the Hopping Pot. With some words still escaping his mouth as he was reading, Ruka decided not to worry about whether he was somehow inconveniencing anybody or not.

Surely if someone felt bothered by his voice they would let him know.

It was a strange feeling that the Slytherin felt, walking into the bookshop again.

Of course, magic would always be strange to him. Something that was impossible, that by all laws of nature couldn't have and shouldn't have existed, and yet it did. It manifested itself in floating pots of ink, in measuring tape that zoomed around with a flick of the hand, and books that had extremely graphic drawings of a man getting burned alive by a reptilian creature with wings. The location only amplified the feeling, one that triggered a flight or fight response, but left him frozen in wonder to stare at the shelves of seemingly endless leather jackets with golden words embossed, filled with yellowing pages that held stories so brilliant, so strange. There had always been an inherent magic to bookshops, the whole enchanted-with-free-will bit of some only amplifying it.

He found himself wandering to a section he hadn't quite been before, the fictional area. Leonard had always found such tales to be beneath him, a distraction from the real world and nothing more. If he was going to read about dragons and treasure, he might as well have learned of the real dragons and treasure to be found instead of wasting time in a universe that didn't exist. But, there was always a first time for everything, and his first year at Hogwarts might as well have been called the year of firsts. And, besides, he was bored. Frankly, there was much that could be considered entertainment when you had abilities far better than those who graced the television screen.

He felt the covers of the tomes, walking slowly to the area where as he had guessed, children no older than he had been five years prior laid down and read of incredibly short stories about teddy bears and the like. Then again, perhaps magic had turned those into much more interesting stories, as it seemed to do with everything else.

The snake walked over to another stack, one with enough pages to keep him occupied for a while, while his parents were out running errands. There, he saw another boy about his age, surprisingly, with hair the shade of copper, engrossed in. He looked familiar to someone he'd met earlier in the summer, though Leonard was sure they were different. The other laughed a bit, muttering to himself about the truly ridiculous titles of these things. Fair enough, on his end. The things truly were eye-catching, with promises to turn your enemy bald as an old man, and make your key-chains dance to the disco.

"Yeah, these titles are right weird, aren't they?" He said, quite a bit quieter. It wouldn't have bothered him much if the other didn't want to carry a conversation, but it would've been nice. "I mean, The Toadstool Tales? Not something you'd see in a muggle school's summer reading list."

@Leonard Oaksworth

Ruka didn't necessarily enjoy being interrupted while reading.

Of course, one could argue that by reading semi-out loud in the middle of a bookstore he was interrupting other people's day to day business, but with having been so caught up in the story he was skimming, he barely remembered that he was actually in public by the time a voice close by brought him back to reality. For a second he thought it might have been Jack, done with whatever he had been busying himself with and urging him to make their way back to their parents, but when he looked up he was met by an unfamiliar face, dark hair and even darker eyes close-by, belonging to a boy who had to be around Ruka's own age.

An unexpected sight in a children's section, but Ruka found himself instantly pacified, the interruption forgotten within seconds, as he let his lips tug into a little grin, tilting his chin up and closing the book he had been flicking through.

"The Toadstool Tales have been banned," he pointed out lightly, raising his eyebrows a bit. "So you likely won't be finding it on any Hogwarts reading lists either." A small laugh escaped him as he slid himself off the stack of books he had been sitting on, moving a bit closer to the other boy to get a better look at him.

Ruka didn't think he'd seen him before, so he likely was neither in the same Year nor House, but of course he couldn't claim to remember every single face in the castle, especially not with how thoroughly he had worked at avoiding people last year. Still, he thought it was probably fair to assume that this boy was either a year below or above him.

Waving the book in the other boy's direction, Ruka lifted his free hand to run it through his hair. "These are the original Tales of Beedle the Bard," he pointed out, holding the book still for long enough to let his new conversational partner get a glimpse of the cover. "Not that it makes the titles any less ridiculous, but the stories don't seem to be making kids retch, so there's a plus." He tilted his head to the side in thought for a moment. "Or a minus, I suppose, depending on how much enjoyment you take from other people's suffering."

Gifting someone a book that was going to make them nauseous seemed like a pretty good prank idea the more he thought about it. A shame that The Toadstool Tales were most likely rather difficult to come by.

Shrugging his shoulders lightly, Ruka refocused his attention on the other boy, a wide smile stretching across his face as he mustered him. He was a bit taller which wasn't unusual - Most people were at least a bit taller than Ruka was himself, even now that he had grown a bit more. In fact, this kid seemed to be pretty much the same height as Jack so maybe it was a fair assumption that the two of them were in the same year.

Height was often misleading, of course, but sometimes it served as a pretty decent indicator for age.

"I don't think we've met, have we?" Ruka asked brightly, as if thoroughly delighted to be making a new acquaintance, green eyes sparkling with something like excitement. "Haven't seen you around classes, I'm pretty sure, so what Year are you in?" Not that it mattered all that much, but Ruka did like to have a vague idea of his opponents' estimated skill set. Just in case.

Placing the book on the stack he had previously been sitting on, Ruka moved a little to the side, folding his hands behind his back as he mustered the other boy from head to toe for a moment. "I don't suppose you're shopping for school books in this section," he pointed out confidently, a lop-sided grin settling on his face. Even for first years, Hogwarts wasn't asking its students to bring fairytales to school. "So what are you looking for? Just to make some fun of the horribly misleading titles of some of those stories?" He chuckled and gesticulated toward The Tales of Beedle the Bard. His lips pulled into a small pout. "Did you know there's no rabbits in Babbitty Rabbitty and Her Cackling Stump until the very end?" He sighed as if deeply disappointed by that revelation, though an amused glint remained in his eyes as he talked.

It had been a while since he had really been able to have a conversation with a kid his age who wasn't his brother and it felt strangely exhilarating.

"I'm Ruka, by the way," he introduced himself, finally. "And you are?"

A part of his mind relaxed itself as the boy began to speak. While Leonard was usually content with sitting alone and busying himself with dog-eared pages, he decided that as the school year neared to a start, preparing for the oncoming horrors that were situations in which he had to be social was a must. A practice test, as one could say, was what he would be running with this boy until either one of them got kicked out (likely) or his father remembered that his son had been left at the bookstore (much less likely). And, really, the redhead didn't seem bad at all, in comparison to some other unfortunate events wherein his conversational partner had run off crying. It had happened before, more times than both necessary and comfortable.

Luckily, the other seemed to both be respectable and nice enough that a connection would be built without the need of tears or rude words. He seemed a cheerful type, and what bad could possibly come out of a fellow avid reader of strange children's books?

"That would be a plus for me," he said, flipping through books that lay scattered around him. Another person who enjoyed making jokes about misery, how brilliant. "Wouldn't want to be around for either a muggle kid or a tiny magician tossing their cookies. But in fairness, I do enjoy suffering."

Leonard turned to the boy again, for a second observation. He was lean, seemingly close to his age. No older than a fourth year, he decided. His demeanour felt friendly enough, which by the snake's definition meant unlikely to hex him into oblivion. So far, no reason to run out the door immediately.

Upon asking of his own year, Leonard replied, "We haven't met, far as I remember. I'm going to be second year once summer ends, and I'm a Slytherin."

"Since I did my school shopping yesterday, I'm just here to make fun of the titles, yeah. Either that or the kids, but that'll probably get me thrown out by some angry parents," he said, attempting what was a slightly stilted joke.

"Name's Leonard Oaksworth. Recognise it, by any chance?"

@Leonard Oaksworth

Ending up in a conversation about kids hurling up their dessert wasn't exactly what Ruka had expected out of spending his day at the bookshop, but he found himself amused and entertained nonetheless.

"I take it the kind of suffering you enjoy probably just smells better than throw up, then," he concluded with a light laugh bubbling from his lips, shoulders trembling a bit with it, so he rolled them back a few times to regain better posture. "Can't say I don't prefer that type myself as well." Grin turning crooked, Ruka moved towards the closest shelf, sliding the tips of his fingers across the backs of kids books starting with the letter J. A book called Newts of Bognor had gotten lost in the shelf, and Ruka pulled it out, slight annoyance crossing his face, caused by the book's unwelcome presence in this section.

Holding Newts of Bognor tightly against his chest, he refocused his attention on the other boy again, nodding quietly at the information received. He had been right then, to assume this kid may have been in the same year as his brother. Same House even, what were the odds?

The little joke coming from the other boy made Ruka smile lightly, not quite enough to elicit a laugh from him, but there was appreciation for the attempted humour glinting in his eyes, and he nodded slowly. "Well they can't throw you out if they don't catch you," he pointed out as if merely wanting to give helpful advice on how to antagonise children without facing the repercussions. "Just gotta be quick on your feet." With a playful wink, Ruka turned back to the books again for a moment, trying to figure out where the book in his arms was supposed to go, but it wasn't difficult to realise that it had probably been dragged here from a different department. Newts of Bognor was quite clearly no kid's book.

"I do actually," Ruka pointed out when Leonard asked if he recognised his name. Slowly he turned around again, eyebrows raised. "But how did you guess that I might?" A small frown creased his forehead as he turned once more to look at Leonard curiously, head tilted to the side in question. "Am I dealing with royalty, perhaps? Celebrity? A Pureblood?" Theatrically he placed a hand across his chest, right on top of his heart, as if just thinking about the chance of meeting either of those was making him feel faint. The twinkle in his eyes was still goodnatured, just a bit of teasing he couldn't resist. The fact that Leonard had revealed to have an idea of what he might find on a Muggle School's Reading List made Ruka relatively sure that he wasn't dealing with a Pureblood anyway. "Or are you just really popular around school? Because I'll have you know I don't think much of popularity."

As of that moment, there wasn't much in Leonard's mental archives concerning how to respond when a potential acquaintanceship was going to be built off mutual hatred for young children. He wasn't sure if the jokes about suffering were purely banter or serious, but it was welcomed either way. As long as he wasn't the target of fragrant suffering, he was completely fine with both, he decided. The short conversation with himself regarding whether or not he cared about the wellbeing of pudgy flesh potatoes that some called babies ended with him nodding decisively when the redhead suggested that suffering inflicted with neutral smell was better than the other option.

The dark-haired of the duo took a glance at the book Ruka was holding as he identified himself, Newts of Bognor, from what he could make out of the title. Leonard, after once again browsing the folders in his mind, found there to be no information about the tome other than the obvious, that it was about newts that lived in Bognor. The book didn't seem to interest either of them in a positive manner, judging from the expression that crossed the other boy's face. However, something that did interest them both was the utterly astonishing detail that the Irish lad standing across from him had heard of his name somewhere and the event wasn't horrible enough to elicit a bad reaction.

"Wait, you do?" Surprise was evident in his appearance and tone, something he immediately wished to cover, and he did so by clearing his throat and deepening his voice, though it may have had the opposite effect to that intended, and helped towards embarrassing him further. "I mean, of course you do, anyone with such wits and charm as I would be known, my stories of my great battles against annoying teachers will have been told in all lands by now. But seriously, you do?"

He then paused, listening intently while his mind tried to work out where the other could've possibly learned his name from. It seemed the information from wherever Ruka heard it didn't go any further about him aside from the Leonard Oaksworth portion, considering every guess provided by the other boy about his identity was almost laughably wrong.

"Actually, no, I'm not any of those, didn't think you'd recognise my name at all. If I were royalty I'd probably have people under the age of three barred from public libraries," he gestured in the general direction of the high-pitched noises, likely coming out from the screaming mouth of a toddler. "If I were a celebrity I'd need good looks or talent, and by now you should know I have neither of those things. As for a pureblood, I've got maybe point two percent of my ancestry from one of those fancily named families, but considering I live above a muggle bakery, it'd be a stretch and a half to call me that. Pretty sure I'm not popular, either. Popularity's a useless measure, really. It's basically got the same standards as being a celebrity, only this time you need to impress an audience of people you can actually see, it's horrifying. So, really, I've got no idea how you learned my name. Heard something through the grapevine, maybe? Heard someone yelling at me to give their family heirloom back, maybe? Heard someone yelling at someone else to get me to the Hospital Wing because I passed out, maybe? Just kidding, those last two didn't happen, I think. Never can be sure with Hogwarts."