She loves her books ++OPEN

[LEDA SERAPHINA CURREN]

Meteolojinx Recanto. Did NOT know that one.

Ruffle. Ruffle. Ssss. Sniff, sniff. The sound of an ebony pencil scratching on parchment was quite alluring.

Mobiliarbus. Ah, Mobilicorpus. How did I miss that? It's just simple Latin... She traced her finger along the age-old ink faded into the library manuscript. Charms class was relatively easy for a fifth year, budding Charms Mistress such as the young Ravenclaw aspired to be. She could see herself, one day,working at the MOM, riding the magical elavators to work each day, growing more and more talented as she lived and worked happily, eventually settling down and marrying, raising a family, living in a nice home connected by Floo to a countryside cottage. She could also see herself teaching at Hogwarts in a few years' time, though she much rather preferred the prospect of striking out on her own. She wanted to explore, to be brave, be able to learn new things.

A few girls giggled -a capital offense- followed by silence yet again. Silly first years, by the look of it. Leda tried not to be too mean or biatchy to the younger years, but by Merlin, it was hard sometimes! Leda, inwardly, was so very glad she wasn't like that. EVER. In her younger years. She stood with one knee resting on the chair's seat. The dratted thing was old and creaky. She could almost swear the librarian used particularly one brand of adjhesive when putting loud students to work on probation. The stuff that was more sappy than concrete-like, so the old legs were really only half-glued on. Leda was here now, poring over her books in preparation for the end-of-term exams already, as well as reviewing for midterms. At least the library was nice and quiet today. There weren't many people to distract her from studying.

Leda smoothed her skirt just before sitting down, and crossed her legs gracefully. She picked up her quill, and dipped it in the black ink twice. She began to inscribe tiny, neat handwritten notes in her spiral notebook. She took note of spell names, and parsed the words, documenting their etymology. Lucky she was a more than passable Latin student. She and Madam, the librarian, weren't actually on bad terms. She visited often and diligently enough that Madam had even helped her a few times. It was good to know she was doing something right.

Leda C.

WORDS 476
OUTFIT LINK

[ROYDEN WESTON KNOX]

It was a busy day at the library. Well, busy meaning that there was only one dusty old table that didn't have an occupant. And in this particular room, there were three. His black robes swishing silently as he walked towards the restricted section of the library. However, after a moment, somebody barred his way; Madam Pince. He stopped, somewhat startled. He smiled, somewhat confused. "Irma," he said pleasantly. The hawklike woman narrowed her eyes up at him; she was quite a bit shorter than he was, but she was still slightly intimidating even to the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. "I need to look for a book," he said softly.

"You have a teachers signature?" she asked. Roydon Weston Knox groaned internally. His first year. He'd been to this section of the library a hundred times, and Madam Pince still thought he was a student. He wasn't that young, really? Of course, he wasn't going to be insulted that at almost thirty years old he could still be mistaken for a student, but really? Irritated, he pulled out his wand, and all the while staring grumpily at Pince, he flicked his wand. Golden letters drew themselves in the air, curving, elegant arcs, as Royden stepped back, allowing them to expand in front of Madam Pince, until they spelled out a loopy, elegant signature. Madam Pince blinked.

"Oh," she said blandly. "Professor Knox. Yes, of course you may enter." Royden smiled almost mockingly before striding in as the golden letters began to fade. He walked with a purpose, holding a finger up as he counted the many shelves, until he found what he was looking for; Necromancy. He smiled for a moment, plucked the book off of the shelf, and brushed it off. It read: Necromancy: Arts of the Dead. He sighed, and made his way back out again. The book was old, and smelled of mold but unfortunately, it had a better section on Inferi than any other book in the library, and he had read quite a few of them. He walked out of the restricted section, and as he walked past Madam Pince.

"Madam," he said with a nod of his head, and he walked to sit down at one of the tables. One in the corner, which was empty was in the dark, and dusty and only had one disgusting looking chair around it. Another was occupied by a group of irritating first year Hufflepuffs, whose names Royden was pretty sure were Elaine Clease, and Penelope Flitt. The other table was occupied by a quiet Ravenclaw, who was pouring over an aged looking manuscript. He was pretty sure her name was Leda Curren; a bright young student, fifth year, rather gifted at Charms and a good Latin student. Royden smiled.

Most did not take any notice of Royden's high attention to details. He noticed and learned things, and remembered things. At the beginning of the year, he had tried to get to know all his students better by having them fill out surveys. And Royden remembered most of them. Making his decision before he had passed a meter away from Madam Pince, he moved swiftly and quietly towards Leda's table. He sat down across from her, and nodded, opening his book, and popping on his glasses as he sat down to read. He leaned back against the chair, holding the book upright as he began to read. "Hello Miss Curren," he said without looking at her. "Hope you don't mind me joining you."

His tone was pleasant, even though he wasn't really looking at her. Yet he was. He was watching her every move out of the corner of his eyes. He also was aware of movement behind him. Really? They weren't going to try it were they? Maybe he hadn't made a good enough impression on them yet. There was a fair amout of giggling going on behind him, and he turned around to see. As he did so, he was pleased to hear rapid scraping of chairs as the two girls sat down quickly, rustling through papers frantically; as if he didn't notice. However, he decided to play along, an idea growing inside his head. He rested his hand under the table, apparently in his lap as he slid his wand from his pocket.

He could hear a very gentle rustling once again, and without looking his wand hand twitched ever so slightly. Madam Pince was snooping around in the Restricted Section, looking no doubt to see if he had stolen anything. Meanwhile, somewhere behind him, one of the girls pieces of parchment and quill began moving. The scribbling went unnoticed by the two girls "sneaking" up on him. Suddenly, the paper whizzed through the air and hovered just over the reading professor's head. The two girls stopped, staring at it. The ink was dark, and though backwards, it could be read through either side. This is what it said.

Lesson #1: Sneaking up on teachers, doubtless of position shows high disrespect, and can be rewarded with detention if the teacher so pleases.

Lesson #2: For future reference, it is highly unwise to sneak up on a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, as a matter of common sense, and because cleaning leech tanks, among other things may very well be the consequence.

Lesson #3: A library is a place of silence, not pranks.

They stared at the note dumbfounded. Royden was certain that they would not have been too nasty, and that they would probably have prodded him magically or done something silly, however he was certain that they had not been coming over to ask questions. It was not as witty as Royden would have liked, but it would get the job done for a couple of first years. The scraping of chairs and a few awkward clearing of throats as the library fell silent. Royden turned a page, and the paper burst quietly into flames, and disappeared. After a moment, once again, there was the scraping of chairs, and the two girls exited the library. Royden had done his job.

words; 982
muse; fab!
notes; a little longer than I originally intended....O.o

[LEDA SERAPHINA CURREN]

Ms. Pince's fingers were the one thing that disturbed my seemingly endless train of thought. Her old fingers, like claws, draped over the back of my chair, and she looked over my shoulder pointedly, glaring down at my work past her thin, hooked nose. I felt the cold air -her breath- on my hand. It rested on the paper as I took notes in neat cursive. I paused, politely putting my quill on the table and folding my hands. "Yes, Ms. Pince?" I asked. Maybe the inner Hufflepuff in me -quiet, silly, goofy, polite- was spilling out of me today. I had a difficult time biting my tongue as one eye, one hawklike tiny orb in her head, twitched mercilessly. She gave me a small smile. I smiled back. An internal dialogue presented itself in my head, going something like this-

Umm...
Enough of that. Why's she looking at me?
Yeah, I know it.
What's the simpler equivalent to the spell Periculum?
..I need to be more attentive next time I'm out with Clairise.
Right. I think we missed some good gossip at the Three Broomsticks.
Well, not like I pay much attention to that...
...But it's fun sometimes.
Oh, please.
What is a hufflepuff? Sounds like a cherry tart to me.
Or something baked, like bread.
A cherry tart.
Right.
The next time Patsy puts a finger on my face, I swear, I'll...
Doesn't do me any good to start thinking about Henri at this point.
Loathesome, evil little cockroach.
Whoops.
Umm...

Ms. Pince's leathery voice came from her throat, but her mouth didn't seem to move. She sighed; at least, the whuffling breathy sound she made I took for a mildly pleasant sigh. Her talons had a vicelike grip on my chair; I couldn't move it, but I was desperate to get back to my notes. The ancient clock hanging on the bell tower was just ringing. Probably five in the evening, on the hour. Finally, she retracted her fingers. "Ay, nothing, my girl." She gave a last stare at my script, and walked off, gracing the oak library floors with her batlike, quiet walk. I was furiously writing again, wishing I could just dictate it and have my pen scribble these notes. Tests were coming, and I had work to do. 'But, oh, it's only at the end of the year!' Rita would say, and Patsy would just sit on her bed and loll her eyes at me. Well, I couldn't help it if there wasn't one single motivated student in my grade, in the whole Ravenclaw house. I was probably being grinchy; there probably were some worthwhile people. I knew a few older kids that I just really, really liked, and I knew of a ton of good kids. But this year, fifth year was just...different.

A chair scraped the floor, really, really close to where I was sitting. I didn't exactly look up. I wasn't about to be so easily put out of my work. But then the posh voice of the DADA professor announced his arrival. I found that my hand stopped writing, and I couldn't continue. My brain had thrown up a wall. But...oh. I needed to turn the page. Thus ensued the careful rustling of paper. I glanced up. "Hello, Professor." He didn't look at me; he just sat down. I suppose he was entitled; if anyone had rights, it was the teacher. And if any teacher had the most rights, it would be the DADA professor.

I didn't notice the commotion at first; I was too absorbed in my work. That was probably something I needed to work on. Writing and reading and hosting a conversation at the same time. Basically, growing three sets of eyes. ...Well, you are a brilliant witch. Think of something! No, the Professor didn't come here to chat. He must know that it would soil both their reputations in the librarian's eyes. The Professor seemed in a good mood today, but he was probably itchy already, considering the ruckus that was going on behind his back. Alright--it caught my interest just a little bit. It was, after all, going to keep me from moving on until I looked up. So I saw the girls giving daring looks at each other, and looking at me like I was, well, a little different. But it only took a second to figure out they were jealous. Not too many people were very fond of Knox. He was kind of different. But apparently, he had a fangroup. Apparently, he was used to it.

They left, thank god. I was about to suggest a Muffliato charm, but he had other plans. He must've done something astonishing, because their faces went awfully pale. They picked up their books and left hurriedly. I could only guess. Now silence descended once again. It felt a little prickly; most of the other students had left for their common rooms by now. I sometimes worked through to dinner. Feeling a bit...daring, I jotted a quick note on loose-leaf paper.

Excuse me, Professor, perhaps you might help me find a spell? It has something to do with Evanesco, and performs the same, but isn't mentioned in this essay. It's rather advanced.

Are you familiar with Ardorem Resisto?

I felt a little outdone by the intelligent man. He was at least an average teacher, by any means. I didn't talk to him much, though. And here I was, hoping he wouldn't smirk and turn up his nose. Not that he wouldn't have the right to. But I was in a hurry.

Leda C.

WORDS 988

[ROYDEN WESTON KNOX]

His task accomplished, Royden settled down to read his most disgusting book. He flipped through the pages, skimming bits here and there, and reading about some of the most horrible forms of Necromancy. There was one that could make ghosts submit to one's will, others told you how to rip bits of different animals parts off their original owners, and patch them all together and make it alive. Irritated, he flipped through the book faster, until he finally found what he was looking for. The illustration was of a hooded wizard pointing a wand at a standing, bloody corpse. He narrowed his eyes, skimming the pages.

The books that he used for his seventh year students was standard, and it was a very good book. However, it was not nearly informative enough. Dangerous times were brewing, fights and unease, and there were rumors that Voldemort was building up an army. Well, if he was going to be making an army, he would definitely begin using inferi. They were responsible for many, many deaths, because people did not know how to fight them, after all, it's hard to fight dead bodies. They don't feel any pain. Incendio was a powerful enough to take on one or two, however it almost never stopped them. It was best to learn a thing or two about Inferi; how it works, how they attack, weaknesses, etc. He was, however, extremely careful at avoiding how to make an Inferi. Especially with his Slytherins.

It took him a moment to notice that Leda had slipped a note his direction. He sat there, flipping through his book, trying to read the parts that would help his seventh years with their essay, when he noticed the little slip of paper. He looked up at Leda a moment, then closed the book, keeping his thumb in it to hold his place, and he read the note. His eyes skimmed it very quickly, and he realized he knew quite a lot on the subject. For a moment, he didn't quite understand why Leda had used a note; she wasn't the most talkative girl in his classes, but she certainly wasn't that shy, until he saw Madam Pince swoop past. He frowned a moment. However, he was in luck. Because at that moment, a great big rat scurried across the floor, and into the restricted section. Madam Pince leaped to her feet, alarmed and quickly disappeared into the restricted section of the library.

Roy seized his chance. He looked at Leda for a moment and grinned (though, frankly it may have been possible to be taken for a smirk) Quick as a flash, he whipped out his wand. "Muffliato!" he said softly, pointing it at the entrance to the restricted section. He turned back to Leda again, dog eared the page in his book and set it down. "There we go then, that should keep her busy for at least five minutes," he said cheerfully. "Now," he paused, looking at the note again. "Ardorem Resisto. You are quite right, it is a very powerful spell. What it has to do with Evanesco...." he paused a moment, folding his hand and resting his chin on them like some sort of cradle.

"As you know, Evanesco is used to vanish objects which Professor McGonagall has probably began teaching you about it already in Transfiguration. However, Ardorem Resisto, or "to resist the fire" in Latin, is a bit different. It gives the spell-caster the ability to resist, repel, or vanquish fire. It is very advanced magic, I'm planning on teaching it to my seventh years because practicing it can be rather...." he paused. "ah...dangerous. You see, magic is all about the relationship between the words and the magic of the witch or wizard. In my opinion, it is impossible to invent spells. Spells are discovered, not created. Which is often why strange things happen when spells are mispronounced...." he paused. It was at that moment that he realized he was rambling quite a bit.

"Basically, if you miscast Ardorem Resisto you can set a room on fire. I suppose, it is related to Evanesco in the sense that they were both discovered by the same person, whose name escapes me because I am not a magical historian. They both serve similar purposes, except evanesco is hardly powerful enough to stop say, a house fire. Which is what Ardorem Resisto is for, but more importantly, it is one of the few things that can stop Feindfyre. Depending on the power of the caster, Ardorem Resisto can put out a small cauldron accident, or it can save an entire home from the chimaeras of Feindfyre."

He stopped and smiled a bit. He was quite pleased that a student was asking him questions; according to many of his students, he was nerdy, bookish, and way too young and naive. Nobody apart from the staff knew he was an animagus, and many of the students didn't like him. He was extremely irritating when he wanted to be, but was rather gifted at keeping a class quiet. "Does that answer your question?" he asked. "Cause believe me, I could go on all day."

Smiling brightly, he opened his book up again and sighed. He hated teaching this stuff. However, he needed the pages, as it was the best information. He pulled out his wand, and tapped his book. "Exemplum!" he said. The pages fluttered. Then, he produced a massive stack of papers, which he rearranged into a bunch of neat, tidy stacks. "Imprimo totalus," he said, tapping one of them. Words appeared on every stack of paper; exact copies of the book. Smiling, he found it was quite nice to be able to use books from the restricted section so that his students wouldn't have to track them down, or bug each other for information. He rearranged the stacks of paper on top of each other again and replaced them in his bag.

Well, that went nice and quick.

words; lol 999
muse; love him <3
notes; O.o eheheh......xD I did a little Latin digging....hope I did it right. :D

[LEDA SERAPHINA CURREN]

I was surprised to actually see and hear Knox cast the muffling spell. I would've thought...well, I would've thought he would cast it wordlessly. Maybe wandlessly. I only raised my eyebrows a little, returning the professor's cheeky smile with a polite one of my own. I suppose I could've cast the spell in the first place to make it simpler. But I wasn't about to tell the professor I'd been practicing arduously, for hours on end, the art of wandless magic. Not all of my waking hours were spent in the library or in my dorm room.

I nodded in response to his statements, his words sometimes speeding up as I realized he was really, truly getting into the swing of things. Obviously liked to talk. "Actually, Professor, I believe it means, I resist the fire. As in, resisto instead of resistare, when you would use Ardor I believe, instead of Ardorem, because in the case of Ardorem Resisto, it means 'I resist', and therefore Ardorem is in the acusative form. But to say 'to resist the fire', you would pronounce the spell as Ardor Resistare." Stopping for breath, I had hoped he'd finished. I looked at the teacher ad folded my hands studiously. "Sorry," I cleared my throat quietly. "But I did have a question about its properties, so...yes, it helps quite a lot." I was a little too far along to stop, so I kept at it.

"See here," I said, turning the voluminous book towards him. I rested my knees in the chair, and wordlessly cast a small silencing charm on the old chair's joints. And I leaned forward, pointing to the passage I was referring to. "In this text, the Resisto spell is noted to have been used several times. I believe we were learning something about its use in History the other day. The professor said that it had a funny history, so I came here to look it up. It says here that Ardorem Resisto was cast wandlessly and silently by a dark wizard somewhere predating the fifteen-hundreds who was about to be burned at a stake for some kind of crime. And here--" I produced a small booklet, "--it mentions the wizard's name. But in this booklet, it lists the so-called date when the spell was first used or discovered. Some of them are missing names and some of them are missing dates. Ardorem Resisto is missing both. It only says the spell was used before. And it had to have been, because no one would have heard the spell. Someone had to know the exact name. I just don't understand why this volume doesn't even have...well, it doesn't have much. And it probably isn't a big deal. I just like to know these things. And it isn't like the spell is particularly dangerous. It isn't even very dark..."

I distracted myself by tucking a loose curl behind one ear and looking through the book. I felt like I'd talked quite a ot. The clock must be nearing supper by now anyway, so I knew we probably didn't have very much time. "This book is incorrect, anyways." Some of the script was old and too smudged to read. This was probably one of the older books here; some pages had burnt edges, making whole paragraphs useless, and me frustrated. Not that today was a particularly frustrating day. I actually found this talk with my professor to be pretty nice.

Leda C.

WORDS 6-hundred-something
OOC had to type in a hurry; I hope it's passable.

[ROYDEN WESTON KNOX]

As he carefully placed the packets in his bag, Leda began speaking herself. The Professor hoped he had not been talking too much for the girl, but he soon realized that he had nothing to fear. He was extremely surprised that the very first thing that she did was correct him. It did not bother him, though it did make him want to laugh. She was the sort of student that drove people crazy because she was so damn smart. However, her boldness pleased the Professor. He liked a student that wasn't afraid to tell people she was right; though it could be potentially problematic. However, he sincerely hoped that he had not merely given her an opportunity to correct his Latin grammar. Yes, he was aware that he had a certain disregard for grammar, sometimes in English as well as Latin. However, he had not expected to be corrected.

His mind was put to rest when she apologized and thanked him. "Quite alright," he said. He was about to add on when she turned to her book and began talking again. She then proceeded to ramble in a way that made Royden proud. He listened intently, looking at the texts that Leda provided for him and listening patiently waiting for her to finish. He nodded slowly as she finished, eyes scanning the text. She seemed quite eager to share her knowledge, and talk with him; something most students did not do. Sometimes, Royden was pretty sure that many of the students forgot that he was a human being, an actual person. He wasn't just a wrinkly old man whose sole purpose in life was to teach young teenage witches and wizards how to cast spells.

He liked hanging out with the students far more than they realized; after all, he wasn't all that much older than they were. He was distracted from his thoughts when Leda stated that the text was incorrect, and he looked at her and nodded. "Well, no author is perfect, and it's good that we catch these mistakes from time to time. As for Adorem Resisto, you are correct, grammatically, it translates to that exactly. Thank you for correcting me, I tend to let my Latin grammar slide," he said with a smile. "As for the spell itself, it does have a very shaky history; it hasn't been used very much in the past, and hasn't been used for a long time - understandably, as the practice of Feindfyre has dropped, the need for it has as well. You have to be careful when researching old and rare spells, and use lots of sources because the less that is known about it, the more the information will vary."

"I suggest you check out the restricted section, there's some books in there that may be useful. Here," he pulled out a piece of parchment and scribbled a few titles down that included: The Auror's Defense, The Dark Arts - Fight Back, and Practical Dark Arts. "All very useful, though be warned; some of the illustrations are rather graphic." He then scribbled her a note to get in and handed it too her. It was good research she was doing, as these were dark times they were living in. Very dark; and they were only going to get worse.

words; 560 +-
muse; good
notes; :)