This prison

She listened through it all, intrigued. Her insides flinched whenever a muggle study presented itself. Of course, Penny was absolutely enthralled by muggle studies, especially anything to do with their technology. Wizards didn't understand how muggles had a magic of their own, a magic they had to invent, cultivate, and perfect. Really, they were so much cleverer than given credit for. Wizards were handed the tools to their problems, but muggles had to invent them.

Still, there was a certain fear Penny had regarding the subjects. The fear of discovery and the resulting disappointment. She could not help but be terrified by her own interests.

"I think it's great that you know what interests you and you are passionate about those interests. Most people couldn't say that one of those were applicable to them, let alone both."

He turned to her and a pinkness spread over her nose. "Me? Oh, I just try to keep up with the curriculum. I ask my professors for extra reading, you know. Right now... History is interesting me a bit. I mean, it's killing me - the class, that is - but I've been very interested by the history of house elves."

Padril beamed when she mentioned history, particularly House Elf history. Historians, both muggle and wizarding, tended to focus on battles, wars, dates, and famous great people- all too often these were also dead, white, straight, pureblood wizards. When people expressed an interest in social history, his respect grew tenfold. It was a less glamorous field, but he found it a lot more rewarding and practical. Dates weren't important, but knowing the culture and inheritance of a group was immensely useful and, vitally, respectful. A nice Slytherin girl with a respect for House Elves? There was no way Padril was letting this one go. Good people who were also interesting were so hard to come across; you had to befriend all of them, or become significantly more dull.

"House Elf history?" he asked, perking up even further. "I must confess, I don't know much about it. What makes you so interested in it?" He shifted to a more comfortable position on the bed, pulling over the pillow so he could hug it on his lap. He felt like he was at a primary school sleepover again. Too cute.

His smile encouraged her, and everything in his body language spoke of goodness and decency, and a belief that such things were in her as well. She felt a warm flutter inside her - how long it had been that someone had seemed to like her because she was a good person. Her friends and family reveled to know she believed in the inferiority of those who were not pure of blood, and they would be disappointed to know she thought otherwise. Decent people disliked her for the ideas and philosophies she allowed herself to be associated with.

"Well," she said, "Most people don't know about their history because, well, it doesn't look like much of a history. There's only ever been one instance of a real uprising of the house elves on their own behalf. The Castle of Lotiville was the home of this family, called the Lotis family. And they had about a hundred house elves and each one was treated poorly - some of them were abused. And this elf, Iggy, he organized an uprising. And they managed to get some of the younger elves out, the younger elves went free. Forty seven died. Iggy was mortally wounded, but as he died he said it was worth it, because a dozen young elves were free in the world to continue the legacy. And apparently, every child of those elves has been free ever since because they continued on and choose their freedom."

Padril whistled, but he was unimpressed. The girl was so sincere though, he didn't want to hurt the poor thing's feelings. He had to stop being such an elitist when it came to academia. "That's a cool legacy," he commented. "What do you suppose those House Elves do now? How does a free House Elf live, do you know?" The social and political lives of those House Elves, he found, would tell him a lot more about history and the world than knowing the fun stories of rebellions. Not all his classmates were as advanced as him in thinking about history, however. Still caught on the Great Men and Big Events phase.

Stop it he sharply rebuked himself. You didn't even know about this rebellion, so stop being a jerk. He quieted his snobiness and carried on.

"Do you know who recorded that history?" he asked. "I would love to read it."

She flushed with pleasure as he whistled. She was so used to missing out the key fact, forgetting to apply the principle, or forgetting to do something that was considered the most important part that her pleasure at expressing her intelligence was often followed by mortification at simply proving herself stupid.

She became more animated as she continued on. "Most of them live in relative squalor. One almost returned to his former life, but the others tried to convince him about the benefits to continuing on. He mysteriously died before he moved in with the family. Some suspect elf suffrage extremists. A few found masters that paid them and gave them vacation days. A few managed to find jobs working in inns and bars. There's one here at Hogwarts, supposedly, but no one knows which one."

He wanted to read the history. She rolled over to grab her bag and dug through it. She pulled out a large tome and held it out to him, her arm shaking a bit under the weight. "Borrow it. I was re-reading it anyway."

"Oh wow," Padril gasped as he took the weight of the book into his hands. "This might take me awhile to get through. This is all House Elf history?" And he already had a reading list he had to smash through, damn it. But he couldn't refuse the generous book loan. Not only was it impolite to do so, Penny was a book person, like him. To offer to lend someone a book was a big sign of trust and a move for friendship. He'd adjust his reading schedule as appropriate; it didn't really matter in the grand scheme of things.

"I wish I had something to give you," he said apologetically as he placed the book down next to belongings with a heavy thud. "I don't suppose you want to take this Utilitarianism book off me. I'm still working on it, but I think a break might be in order. I'm in a morally tricky position though. I don't want to read the book, but I also don't want to make you read it- you're too nice to suffer through a political thesis."

Penny nodded. "There's not a lot of history, really. Most of it was 'They worked for free, and they did so happily.' But it goes into some of the bloodlines that served the most noble households, recounts some tales of elves who did spectacular things in their master's names, etcetera. It'll make you look at the dinner tables and your clean common room differently."

He suggested, though not seriously, that he lend her the book on Utilitarianism, and part of her wanted to ask for it. The rational part of her said it was impolite as he was not finished, and that it was crazy since she was already so anxious about her schoolwork. But part of her wanted some concrete evidence of a bond between the two strangers - and returning a book was an excellent reason to see someone again.

Her cheeks turning a deepening shade of Embarrassed-But-Determined-pink, she said, "I've considered my education on political thesis very poor, thus far. I wouldn't be the student I want to be if I didn't seek to fill such gaps in my understanding."

Padril wanted to hug the girl. He beamed at her response. "Oh my god, Penelope. You're a woman after my own heart," he declared, putting a hand over his chest. The other picked up the thesis, a fairly thin book and handed it to her. "There is so much I don't know and it annoys me so much. I couldn't ever imagine being one of those people who just specialises in one topic and never looks elsewhere." He hugged his knees, seeming thoughtful again.

"Don't let it's size trick you," he noted, pointing at the thesis. "The text is quite byzantine and academic- it takes a while to digest. I needed a dictionary to get through it, to be honest."

At his words, she laughed, her laugh increasing at least three octaves in pitch than it normally did, as her blush colored and a flush ran up her neck, heating her scalp, particularly behind her ears.

Nurse, could I get water splashed on my face, or perhaps, a nice good smack?

"M-m-m-me too," she stuttered out excitedly, leaning forward to grab the book, trying to cover up her embarrassment, and only succeeding in deepening it. "A well rounded mind is so much better than one focused on one area."

She ran her hands over the book. "I can't wait to dissect it."

Penelope suddenly went very red, but Padril was too caught in his own thoughts to pay it much mind. Penny seemed like a nice and friendly girl, and he didn't want to involve her too much in his current intrigue. Then again, if they became friends, she might not have much choice before less kind people arrived. Better to ask harmless questions that could provide potential insight into the only person in the school he considered an actual rival. Tilting his head as if he had a sudden thought, he glanced at the girl. "Hey Penny, what do you know of Vivianna Varnes?" he asked absently. "My friends have been having a bit of fight with her, but I thought it might be nice to have some Slytherin perspective. These things are always much more complex than friends let on, you know?"

There, he seemed like he could be potential friend or enemy to Varnes now. With their established rapport, hopefully Penelope would let him have some information. He wasn't entirely sure what he would do with it, he just wanted to be ready for her. Varnes was better at manipulation and back-door politics than Padril was, he knew, so he had to arm himself with the one thing he was sure she didn't have-genuine friends who genuinely wanted to help him.