Silent Interruptions

Strictly speaking, it wasn’t the silence of the library that made it the destination of choice on a Saturday afternoon. The serenity was only one factor among many, outweighed by the greater pull of research, and to a lesser extent, solitude. On this occasion, a rare pleasure made possible by the balmy skies and clement rays to which students flocked in a summery exodus, laying siege to grassy knolls and sunlit courtyards. The nooks and crannies of the library were left to the faithful few, those for whom- impossibly- shade and bookshelves proved a greater allure than languid lounging.

In Jet’s case, escaping the revels was a secondary aim- empty tables could be commandeered for a full spread of textbooks and parchment, entire stacks could be perused without obstacles or manoeuvring, and, importantly, there was a significantly reduced chance of eagle-eyed supervision as to what was being studied and where it came from, a perk only available in times of very limited or very high library activity. This time it was the former, but she wasn’t usually picky.

So the silence wasn’t a key draw. But its disturbance was easily noticed without the background hum of low-pitched chatter and paper-shuffling usually punctuating such study sessions. In this case, the rhythmic back-and-forth of footsteps beat out a determined staccato, refusing to fade out or into the scenery, drawing her out of her reading again every time she got settled and the pacer changed direction or rummaged through another book stack. The librarian’s absence- formerly a blessing- was making itself felt.

Her fifth such loss of focus pushed Jet away from the table, out of her chair, and in pursuit of this Disturber of Peace. Coming to a stop a short distance from the source of the footsteps, she allowed her arms to cross over her abdomen and her head to tilt in an expression of casual inquiry. She wasn’t usually one to offer help randomly, but perhaps they could both be spared any further misery.

“What’re you looking for?”

He couldn't say he knew exactly why he'd decided to come to the library of all places, but it was better than being outside with all the other students and the constant chatter and gossip that he didn't even care about.

However, the longer he spent in the library with the quiet, the more restless he became. He couldn't make up his mind on what to take off the shelf to read. The constant shuffling of his feet from aisle to aisle was even beginning to annoy him, but he couldn't help that.

Without thinking about it, he stopped dead on his tracks with a blank stare looking upon the shelf in front of him. No warning, interest, nothing could really tell him or anyone else what had made him stop in front of that specific shelf, but he was snapped out of it when he heard a voice call out near him.

Evander blinked, life returning to his eyes, and he looked over toward the voice. He couldn't say he really recognized the girl - he wasn't good with faces even if he did know her - and he couldn't help the shrug of his shoulders. "I couldn't really tell you." The Ravenclaw answered. "I'm not quite sure myself."

Her first instinct was to ask if he could be unsure somewhere else, or at least more quietly. But he was a younger student, he had just as much right to the library as she did, and the last thing she needed was to offend him and land herself in the librarian’s bad books (again).

All this considered, they both had a problem. He needed to find a book, she needed him to find a book so he could stop moving. The way she saw it, she had to help him. It just would have been nice if he’d given her a bit more information to help her help him.

She didn’t move forward or uncross her arms, slightly narrowed eyes the only indication of any discontent.

“Okay,” she intoned slowly, trying to sound patient rather than condescending. “What class do you need it for?” Her eyes flickered to the shelf he was standing before and she nodded towards it, taking an informed guess. “Charms?”

Her words made something click in his mind and the reason he'd stopped at that particular shelf became apparent to him. Evander's eyes flicked from the shelf to the girl before he a sheepish smile lifted the corners of his lips. He suddenly felt embarrassed, the look in her eyes toward him being the cause. He hadn't meant to make her uncomfortable, or discontent.

That was never Evander's goal for anyone.

"Sorry," Was the only thing that came from his lips before the smile dropped and he cleared his throat. His attention turned to the books in front of him, the Ravenclaw suddenly becoming bashful and not being able to look at the Slytherin. Evander had a habit of not looking people in the eye once he felt he'd made them upset with him. This was one of those times.

He really hadn't meant to make as much noise as he'd apparently made. The boy hadn't thought it was that bad originally, even if it had annoyed him as well. But if it was enough to make another student approach him, then it had to have been bad. "Yeah, I've got an essay I forgot about. There wasn't enough information in the books I've got." He finally responded to her question, having had to gather the strength to actually speak to her.

He wondered if there was anyone else in the library at this moment. We're there more people in there that he was bothering? Merlin. He didn't know if he could handle actually knowing.

"Yeah, geez, can you keep it down for once! Christ!"

Margo popped her head from behind a shelf, a cheeky grin on splitting her bright face in two, tongue caught between her teeth. She had caught sight of Evander and headed his way just in time to catch the interaction and see him completely deflate. She could see his whole body language change, immediately becoming self conscious and unsure. It drove her mad when people didn't know their worth, when so little could ruin their sense of self.

Especially beautiful people.

Her eyes jumped to the other figure and immediately brightened. "Jet! Oh, wow, lucky me, two of the literal best people in the castle, and I had plans to ask you both a question. Well, two. Firstly, can either of you help me with the Charms essay, or, y'know, just give me yours to copy. Secondly, if I threw a party, what key element would ensure you presence. I'm trying to make it as inclusive as possible. I want everyone there."

"Right," she nodded, not really knowing how to proceed. On one hand, they'd already established that he was looking for a book- the question was which one- but on the other, it was becoming pretty obvious that her question had embarrassed him and even that perfunctory response had required a fair bit of effort.

She was beginning to feel awkward herself, almost regretting taking the initiative to provide a helping hand, even if her motivation had been less than altruistic. This was why she stuck to her usual attitude. Involving yourself in other people's business only ever caused unnecessary discomfort and wasted your time, and at the end of the day you didn't even get anywhere because most people didn't know what they wanted.

A loud voice rang out that put the earlier shuffling to shame and snapped Jet's head round with a start, drawing her crossed arms tighter. Recognising Margo eased the alarm, but just barely. Here was someone who did know what she wanted- or at least knew how to go after it. Even if what she wanted could also be just as inconvenient as uncertainty, certainly less avoidable.

"Hey, Margo," she nodded, looking between the two students and managing a subtle step back so as to give each a clearer line of sight to the other. "Maybe you two can help each other? I think you're working on the same essay." She had no idea, but it seemed a sound deduction. A convenient one, at least. The second question wasn't, so she just let Margo's friend take it, hoping he'd be less overwhelmed by someone he knew.

A familiar voice froze Evander in his thoughts, not that he already wasn't frozen. But this was different, it was like a wave of relief mixed with panic because he could already identity who's voice it was without even looking at her.

Margo wasn't a bad person by any means, but she just caused Evander distress with her presence. And that was only because she was so outgoing and he wasn't. Sometimes Evander thought he needed to be more like her, just go with the flow or do things his own way. But he was afraid of that.

Being afraid of failing was probably stupid,but it was still valid.

At least Margo was diverting the attention to herself. "Yeah, if you want I can help you with it. But I'm not letting you copy." Anyone that knew Evander knew that he didn't just let anyone copy off of him. Her second question took him aback though. He wasn't one for parties, but he didn't think it could hurt. He just didn't want to go alone. The Ravenclaw boy scratched his head briefly as he thought.

"Hit and Cronis."

"I can't copy it," she said, her voice chiding, a lilt in her feminine voice as she teased... though there was nothing false about her statement. "Because I'm the only one with it. It's a revision essay, because my grades last year were so bad, they're trying to give me extra marks to even them out." She rolled her eyes, giving Jet a cheeky grin. "Bet you lot feel stupid."

She bounced a bit, looking between them - she was always bouncing, it seemed. "Hit and Cronis, yum, yum, can do," she said, before looking towards Jet. "I assume that means you'll be there?"

She sighed. "Look, I'll tell you all this, because you're my best friends." Before they could argue, because that was objectively false, she pressed on. "This school has a real morale problem. Jack Dyllan is going around punching people, racism is spiraling out of control, Kace and Christabelle are fighting!!!!" She stopped, staring at them with an open mouth, as though expecting them to be just as shocked as she was. "Point is, a party is necessary. And I want everyone there. So I need your help, okay? I need everyone's help!"

Partying to lift morale was such an old and tired excuse that it was, in her experience, no longer a convincing one- nor a lasting solution. A temporary fix (high) and a breeding ground for more violence, more friction, more chaos, even (perhaps especially) with seasoned veterans. But Margo was not yet a seasoned veteran, and there was something about her sincerity, her conviction in its necessity, its transformative potential, that imbued it with less of a sordid air and more of an invigorating one. What the hell. Why not. Same old, after all.

“Sure, I’ll show my face.” She nodded, tucking a loosened blonde strand behind her ear, her posture relaxing slightly with that concession. She didn’t know about Kace and Christabelle, but somehow Jack Dyllan and a party seemed incongruous. Her image of the Gryffindor was of a scowl behind a detention desk or a beater’s bat. A forced smile, sometimes. But no punches, at least, which she took as evidence of good terms.

“No promises about the party, but I can help with those extra marks. My OWL notes are still in my trunk. Drop by the common room later and they’re yours.” And then, almost an afterthought, because it was: “Who’d Jack punch?”

"Um, what exactly does Kace and Christabelle's fighting have to do with everyone else?" Evander inquired. It sounded to him like that was more personal than anything else and no one should really be butting into it. Though as he looked at Margo, he figured that it didn't really surprise him that she was butting in where no one called her.

She seemed like she did that a lot.

He already regretting giving her something to make him show up. But it was likely that neither Cronis nor Hit would show anyways. Hit didn't like parties and Cronis really just didn't like Margo. At least from what he'd heard from his brother. She was going to need some luck if she planned on getting the two of them there.

"Now, I second that question." He said, pointing briefly at Jet. "Who did she punch?" He wouldn't be able to tell anyone why he wondered about it, but the thought of a brawl breaking out, regardless of how far it went was pretty entertaining.