This prison

Penny again blushed as he seemed touched by the image she had painted for him of herself and her best friend. Though embarrassed, she was very pleased to have some sort of approval in this matter, though it seemed strange and unfamiliar for her to be receiving anything of the kind. Still, she liked the idea that she and Audrey were such good friends that even strangers could notice their compatibility. It made Penny feel as though she had managed to do one thing right for herself that her parents could also approve of. It didn't happen often.

Penny smiled. "It was very subtle, but I could sort of tell. You know, there's another Australian student around here. A Ravenclaw - something Abercrombie. She's younger, so I don't remember her name off the top of my head."

At his words about her house, she turned a darker shade of pink but, as no one was around, had no need to defend her house. To be honest, she was terrified of her housemates. "I've gotten that a lot. I think I was sorted because... I'm pretty resourceful. I'm not as loud as my housemates though. Or as outspoken."

"Resourceful?" Padril asked., tilting his head slightly. "I guess that makes sense. Sometimes I forget that's one of your House traits. I have a good friend, Cordella Quinn, who's in Slytherin, but she's so lovely I just think of her as a 'Puff." He gasped and put his hand to his mouth. "I am so sorry. That sounds terrible. You're very lovely too, and I'm sure there are more lovely Slytherins. I just think Hufflepuffs are the sweetest. Biased, of course." He smiled, reddening. Oh god, he was so bad this whole conversation business.

Padril's face turned thoughtful as he recalled a conversation he had that sort of got him into this situation. "Hey, you don't happen to like Quidditch, do you?" he inquired. "Have you heard of Viktor Krum?" He hadn't had time to do any fact checking. If Krum was actually a famous wizard, Padril supposed purebloods would know about him. And if Penny was a Slytherin, his prejudices told him he was probably a pureblood or close enough to it. Otherwise her life would be even more painful than it probably already was in that House.

He tried not to be too hard on Slytherin, he really did. Della was brilliant, and Penelope seemed nice. There was probably a few very nice people there. Yet the whole pastime of 'muggle murder' was off-putting, to say the least.

He repeated her word choice and she nodded, almost afraid that he would further question it, ask for some sort of proof. The scary thing was... Penny had no real proof why she was a Slytherin. She was a Slytherin because she had begged the hat, assured him that she would not be able to face her parents if she came home as anything less than a student from the House of Salazar. And now, this rather nice boy seemed to be asking the hard questions. She would not be able to answer! She would just stutter and gawk and-

Oh. He wasn't questioning her. She really needed to relax.

She knew Cordella. All the purebloods knew each other, because they had all been raised together, and they all ended up being related through marriage when all was said and done anyway.

He continued to put his foot into his mouth and Penny blushed, covering her mouth with a hand to suppress a giggle. "It's okay," she said. If she was being honest, she preferred the Puffers to her housemates. Then again, she was terrified of her housemates, so she secretly preferred every other house. "House preferences are natural."

He posed an interesting question. "I'm not a huge Quidditch fan - it's very violent, don't you think? But I know of Viktor Krum. His daughter is a seventh year, and his son is the current Deputy Minister. Why?"

Oh Jesus Padril thought, realization hitting him. Viktor wasn't just a legendary Quidditch player who had fought alongside Harry Potter, he was the father of the second-most powerful person in Wizarding Britain. Oliver's daddy's issues were more problematic than Padril had already suspected, which was saying a lot. Penny asked him his motivations, and the Hufflepuff froze up. It really wasn't his story to tell. The subject seemed immensely private, despite Oliver confiding in him so readily, but Padril didn't know if it was due to Oliver being very open about it or if the Gryffindor had felt he could just confide in him. Penelope also seemed like a reliable person.

He decided to go with a middle ground. "It's just...I met a Gryffindor the other day called Oliver Krum, and a friend earlier today said he was the son of Viktor Krum. I was just trying to work out the authenticity of the rumours, since I really don't know Quidditch players that well. I have the same problem with it. Violent and bizarre. Not what I would do for fun. Though," he added with a smile. "I guess I might go watch a match if my best friend fancied a player."

Penny scrunched her eyebrows together. "Oliver? Isn't he a new Durmstrang transfer student, or something?" She thought about it. "That can't be right. I mean... Viktor Krum had two kids. I remember. I was at Elijah's wedding, and I've never heard Cecilia mention another brother. I... No. That must be wrong. He's probably just a cousin, like Alaric. They have a very large extended family." This final sentence she finally addressed back to Padril, having gone off on a tangent more applicable to herself than to him.

But... then again.. she had never met Oliver's parents, which was odd. The Krums were very involved in pureblood affairs. Had she just stumbled onto a scandal by accident?

She glanced up and smiled at his words, suddenly realizing that the two were sharing a joke. She felt suddenly flustered, though very pleased, by the idea of that. Why was he so easy to get along with? Penny lived in this constant social anxiety, but was finding this conversation very pleasant. "I'm glad to know I'm not the only one."

Padril eyes widened at how much she knew about the family. Were they just close, or did all purebloods just have an encyclopedic knowledge of bloodlines? With that sort of hobby, a person could become obsessed with it, give it undue importance and then maybe mur-actually that made perfect sense for purebloods. They were so weird. They needed to watch a few films, Padril figured. Another argument to start his film club.

"Ah, yeah, you're probably right," Padril said, absently scratching his nose. "I just didn't want spread rumours about it because if it's untrue it'll be annoying, and if it's true it'd be plain malicious and cruel." He gave her a big smile, "Which is why I figured I could ask you. You don't seem the sort who'd spread that sort of gossip." There, done. If she had been thinking about telling her friends about Oliver, hopefully that would guilt her out of that frame of mind. If it hadn't, there wasn't really a lot Padril could do anymore. It was probably unnecessary anyway, she seemed trustworthy.

Looking for a quick change in conversation, Padril moved to the first thing he thought of. "So, if you don't like Quidditch," he began, leaning back on his hands. "Then what do you do for fun?" Such a vague question. He hated when he got asked it, but it was the first one he thought of. Damn it.

She slowly nodded, her mind running, twisting, and turning with the thoughts the Hufflepuff boy had put into her head. Padril would never know the strange dilemma he had put into her head. Penny could not help but be tied into the strange webs of pureblood connections, no matter how much she disdained any of her own involvement in the complex society those that were pure of blood had constructed for themselves.

Penny wanted to find a loophole out of it, and when she heard of someone else who was supposedly one of those little loopholes, one of the forgotten ones, the overlooked ones... Penny had to know for sure, because if the system didn't work, if the system broke down... then she finally had an escape from it all.

She weakly smiled. "I wouldn't say a word. It's a good thing you asked though."

He changed the subject, for which she was immensely thankful. She hoped that it would help put the whole Krum issue from her mind until a time when she could better understand it. "Me? Oh, um, study. Mostly. I want to make sure my grades never slip, so I do a lot of studying. Though, I suppose most people wouldn't call it fun."

"Are you kidding?" Padril asked, breaking into a smile. "Studying can be great. I mean, sometimes you'll get something immensely boring and vanilla, but it can get really good!" He picked up the book he had let slide to the floor earlier, the political thesis by Mill, tapping its cover. "Sometimes it challenges your mind, makes you think outside of the box, confronts your way of thinking about things. Afterwards, you just feel so burned and so good. Like after exercise. You feel yourself becoming stronger, up here." He moved his finger to his head, tapping it.

"And then sometimes," he said, his voice suddenly turning soft. His eyes went cloudy as he seemed to gaze at something in the far distance. "And then sometimes while reading you'll find a thought, a way of thinking that was unique to you. Written by someone who is long dead. And it's like a hand-" he stretched out his hand, fingers inviting "-has come from the pages, and taken yours." He closed his hand and brought back to him, regaining focus. Padril smiled at Penny, a bit bashfully. It was a very private thought he had shared with the girl. He hoped she wouldn't find him too weird. Or, even worse, recognize where he had taken that small speech from. The History Boys was one of his favourite films, mostly for it how it could vocalise his thoughts. He quoted from it frequently but in Hogwarts, with no one understanding his references, it was as good as plagiarism.

Penny considerably lightened and visibly relaxed when he seemed to approve of her study habits. She beamed at him, nodding happily at him in agreement, pleased that she didn't actually have to say anything in this conversation to really get along with him. how was it that Penny always struggled with being herself and being approved of. And yet, this boy, who had been a stranger just an hour prior, was capable of letting her be herself and still somehow approved of her.

And it was only now that Penny really allowed herself to register how cute he was. It was always the quiet ones.

She listened, eagerly taking in everything he said, leaning forward and looking at him with an unrestrained earnest that she would typically never be so bold as to express. "That's absolutely beautiful. I definitely understand what you mean. I don't always enjoy our studies, but I do like looking into other subjects, and then, of course, reading fiction as well." She paused. She could not disclose which subjects she liked to pursue on her own - they were disagreeable subjects for a young pureblood lady. She had to keep the subject away from that."W-what sort of subjects do you look into?"

"Oh," Padril's eyes widened at the question, trying to think of all the things he read. "Well, I do the core seven, minus Astronomy, plus Muggle Studies. But I guess you mean, like, subjects of interest?" He leaned back, thoughtful. "Well, I really enjoy anthropology and history, muggle and magical, though it's mostly European history I know. I really enjoy reading about the sciences and figuring out how the world around us works- my Mum's a Physics professor you see," he explained, waving his hand absently. He didn't realize he had potentially outed himself as Muggleborn, or that Penny probably didn't have much knowledge of physics, or any of the sciences for that matter. He drummed his fingers on Mill's political thesis again. "I read these politics stuff sometimes, but to be frank they just go over my head. Big picture stuff always does."

"But that's just stuff I read to round myself out as a person," he admitted. "My very favourite thing to read is literature and film. My Dad is an English Literature Professor, so I read a lot of the old stuff. But movies are definitely my thing more than anything else. I love muggle film. I think it's a spectacular art form." His eyes shone bright, then he turned a shade of crimson. He did not make a habit of talking about himself, yet he had just soliquoised Penelope with a bourgeois rendition of "A Few of My Favourite Things". It was not only unprecedented, he'd bet anything it was boring.

"Umm, sorry about that," he apologised, smiling. "I don't usually go on tangents. What about you? What do you like to study?"