The Ineffable Joy of Reading
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notes. sorry it took so long! xoxo
song. Eventually ~ Tame Impala
four seventeen p.m.
the library.
¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯If reading was what it took for Jrue to get ahead in Herbology, that was what she was going to do. Maybe she wasn't getting ahead of the rest of her class, because who knew what her peers were up to, but she wanted to get ahead for herself, and secretly, for her mother's benefit. She didn't have much to talk about with her, other than their shared bloodline, or their magical inheritance. Sometimes they'd talk about herbs, and remedies, and creatures, but she was so busy so much of the time it was hard.
She was glad she was a fan of those activities, though. She didn't know what she'd do if she wasn't. What would she be when she was an adult, a muggle doctor? It didn't sound too bad to her, rather fun at times. Getting to talk to people, one of her favorite hobbies. A Quidditch player? The thought made her laugh. So she'd settled on Magical Creatures, because it was a combination of herbs and her favorite thing, animals. She wouldn't be able to take Care for Magical Creatures for a few years, and wouldn't get to the really fun stuff in Herbology until then, too, but at least she had Skip to keep her entertained.
After she finished her charms class, Jrue promptly made her way to her dorm, grabbing a bag of licorice imps from her desk and slipping out of her robes and into jeans and an oversized blue and gray sweater. She didn't have any readings or classwork to complete that afternoon, so why not fill her free time with the smell of books and-- oh! joyous day; reading.
The Ineffable unexplainable joy of reading was something Jrue couldn't put into words. Anna Kerenina, the Catcher in the Rye, everything fore and after and in-between the pages and years of those books brought her companionship in joy.
Joy in learning, joy in immersing, all of it. Hand her a book and she'd finish it before the day was over, enveloping the story and making it her own. It was the same of nonfiction books, and when her mother truly explained magic to her, the joy of reading magic based books soon introduced itself to Jrue. And Hogwarts was her ultimatum of reading. The place where her Roman Empire thrived. With a bookshelf around every corner, a library stacked to the rim, it was all a book worm of a girl could ask for.
So of course on a day where she didn't have anything to work on she'd spend it in the library. Where else, the abandoned toilet? She brought Skippyjon with her, the Siamese cat curled up on her oversized blue sweater, which was now bundled up in a heap on the ground, fast asleep. Jrue was standing in a lacy tan and white tank top, her hair pulled into two messy buns behind her head, with a stack of books in her hand. Her nose was deep into the top of the stack, a book on The Importance of Magical Herbs when it comes to Cooking... how interesting, she assured herself, closing the book and shuffling it to the bottom of her stack. Maybe she needed something new to read, she had seen those ones frequent the shelves before.
She really hadn't checked the shelves that were any more than 4 feet above her, so maybe... she'd ought to... There had to be something new and intriguing up there, right? Maybe a long lost book on Mandrake oil being used for toothpaste, or common muggle herbs and flavorings having uses in spells... Or maybe there'd be a lost letter from the 1800s from someones Quill Pal, Jrue thought. She'd like to be the first one to discover it though.
633/200
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The Ineffable Joy of Reading
By all means and augury, from the first rays of morning light to present late dimming sun, there had been every prior indication to Rafal Devereux that looking back, this would have not been a day more humdrum and unassuming. Quotidian tasks, run-of-the-mill classes, prosaic concerns and characters alike - nothing to note for the young Slytherin boy whatsoever. As he heads down the familiar winding corridor, heavy satchel laden with material, Rafal is fully expecting to be greeted with nothing more than the prevailing routine which has made itself only too ingrained into his mind in these dozen months. And quite truly, he is anticipating it. Whoever looney-tune says that seen patterns grow wearisome, has surely only never experienced the ineffable joy of an established system.
And so he enters the Hogwarts library, most sacred of spots. Stops by the dark oak doors and casts a sweeping gaze over the all-too recognizable scene. Looming bookshelves seemingly endless, neat rows of small tables equipped with academia utensils and spotted with the stray hardworking student, wisely preferring acrobatics of the mind to mindless, ultimately unavailing tomfoolery. They are the ones who shall succeed. Others may be homeless. Yet at the moment, everyone resides at the same exact location, shall go through their academic journey in the same exact institute. It is both comical and cathartic to think about.
This is the true niverna, Rafal thinks appreciatively, and makes way toward the gorgeous, boundless, rows and rows of tomes and volumes.
It is Herbology day, and that unquestionably means it shall be one of the young Slytherin’s more challenging study periods. The subject of botany and herbs has always been one of the few areas of magic which ailed, for lack of a better word, the second year to a greater extent than the rest, but no matter. He shall not dwell on the illimitable frustration which comes with the incessant determination of every bloody plant life to rebel against his darnest efforts to have them cooperate in even the tiniest thing possible! He swears, it’s like he cast a evil spell on the entirety of the lot in a past life or something.
No, it’s totally fine. He just needs to put in more work, more hours, more effort. Then surely, those bloody little nuisances shall have no choice but to surrender to the Slytherin’s infinitely more illimitable hand. A scale of power, if one will. He’ll show them. Rafals are not to be trifled with. Yes, that surely seems to be a solid plan of action for now.
But before the second year can reap the doubtless all-too-satisfying fruits of labour, he must first work on the edification of his own person. And the way to begin that long and sinuous path, is to acquire the necessary material, naturally. Luckily, he happens to be in the prime venue for such pursuits.
Roaming warily through the maze of shelves, the boy takes care to keep his eyes peeled and on the lookout for any publication which might fit his current undertaking. Preferably something new and fresh, aligning with the current topics taught in lessons, and yet with its own unique brand. Of course, with such lofty ambitions, vigilance and meticulousness are key, thus the imperative punctiliousness.
By now, Rafal had been at his task for a rather considerable moment of time, and was feeling his spirits and ardour steadily droop to the bottom line, when fate ultimately appeared to take pity on him. Throwing him a bone, as they say, though in this singular case, the Slytherin certainly does not mind the trivial superciliousness of that expression in the slightest. Not when the trade-off is so infinitely efficacious.
Feeling his vigour return tenfold in an instant, Rafal cannot help but feel a grin crack his face. At last! Oh, indeed, the stories are true. Good comes to those who persevere, who are patient. And who has shown those traits, more than him? Merlin knows the boy deserves, more than any other soul, that damned elusive title. Renewed with faith and jubilation, Rafal reaches a hand towards that exquisite tome he has suffered so much, and so long for.
But as the poor boy shall soon find out, Fate has a crooked sense of wit.
Interacting with @Jrue Peterson
All your blues like a mood ring changing colours
The Ineffable Joy of Reading
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notes. sorry its a bit short
song. Eventually ~ Tame Impala
four seventeen p.m.
the library.
¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯The smell of old, dusty paper was warm and filled the entire library. Little particles of dust floated around and sparkled in the sunlight, her fingers delicately trailing over the gold and brown spines of the books on the shelf. Even if the book ended up being boring, it was sure pretty, and it couldn't hurt her to be seen reading it by some upperclassmen or a professor. Maybe they'd consider her a prodigal student in their classes.
Right as she was about to grab it, another hand bumped hers. She squeaked, flinching backwards as the book teetered on the side of the bookshelf. She reached up instinctively and pushed the book back into the shelf so it wouldn't fall, scrunching her arms closer to her chest as she moved backwards to see who she ran into.
There stood a boy, with light ruffled hair that curled softly around his ears and at the nape of his neck. His expression was solemn, but not particularly sad. More focused, calculated. She eyed his hand. He was most definitely reaching for the same book as her. "Did you need that book?" She asked intently, her brows knitting together and laying her hands at her front and intertwining her fingers delicately. "Well... I kind of need it..." she said as she pursed her lips, eyes averting his gaze carefully. "You see, I'm only a first year, but I'm trying to get into more advanced classes and make a good impression.. So, if you didn't mind-" She reached for the book again, wrapping her fingers around the spine firmly this time.
This can't be a big deal for him, there's got to be another one. She flicked her eyes back up to the shelf, her lashes fluttering as she looked about. "As soon as I finish, you can have it..." She smiled, taking a step backwards them turning around to face another shelf. The boy had surely already made his way in the school, securing a reputation already. She needed to make her mark too, of course he'd understand...right?
356/200
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