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Post by ruley on Nov 28, 2011 20:04:04 GMT 1
Tyson pondered how late it was; he regretted not bringing his watch with him, a gift from his uncle on his sixteenth birthday. It was in a safe place, in the draw of his bedside table, but it could hardly be of any use to anyone in there. He sighed as he looked around the library for a clock of some description, knowing there was one above the main entrance but not having enough motivation to get up out of his seat. He gave up; he gathered enough from the window next to him. It was dark and hurling it down with rain outside, typical autumnal weather in Brittan. He was nearly done with his Charms essay, something he had left until the last minute because of quidditch obligations. Sorting out team rosters, formations and booking the pitch for practise sessions. Running round the castle trying to track down people was something rarely enjoyable, unless you were chasing a girl or late for class...
He abruptly lost he trail of thought which was probably for the best. He glanced around seeing few other students in the library, or in his section at least. He was sat in one of the study rooms off to the side of the charms section. The man study area had been far too crowded for him upon his arrival and he had found a few of his class mates in here who had since left. As he looked back down to his work he checked the page number, six. Tyson could usually write about seven hundred words per page, and the essay had to be five thousand long, not much left in the grand scheme of things. He pondered if the house elves would still be hanging around in the kitchen, he might be able to grab a snack before bed.
He thought it might be best to take a break since his mind was already starting to wander again, no point in trying to force an essay out of his mind if it wasn’t focused, it would take twice as long. The next quidditch fixture was against Ravenclaw and he knew the team needed more work before they’d be in any condition to stand a chance against them. The new fifth years especially needed a better grasp of passing manoeuvres before they released the bludgers at practise! He was being too hard on them and he knew it, but how else would they get up to his standards of expectation? He always made it seem like he wanted them to achieve more than what he was actually expecting. If they didn’t get there, great. They’d at least be at the level he wanted. But if they did reach that high, all the better!
notes: open!
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Post by cj on Dec 4, 2011 3:16:29 GMT 1
It was relatively late, and tonight was a night that she was actually exempt from her usual prefect duties. Typically she found herself stuck with the annoying task of chasing down first and second years and sending them to the common room for curfew. She was usually nice about it as well, rarely handing out detentions and never deducting house points. But tonight, she found herself just as busy. It was her mum, Hermione Granger that began SPEW. And it was Rose who found herself continuing the legacy…to a certain extent. Though she wasn’t knitting hats and scarves, leaving them around the castle, she did her best to assist them in the kitchens. The young Weasley was wiping down the last dish near the sink before she smiled at a small elf. He ran to her leg, hugging her and thanking her for the help before vanishing into nothing. Rose gave a small chuckle, the ways thathouse elves disapparated was so much nicer than wizards, doing it in silence instead of that loud crack.
Rose slowly walked up the moving stairs of the castle. Technically, she wasn’t meant to be out of bed so late, but she knew that at least the library was a safe haven for a few more hours. She wasn’t at all tired, and she wasn’t rushing to be caught either. She moved like a cat, sneaking around up the five flights of stairs till she reached her destination. The red head was greeted by open double doors; the entrance to the library. Upon walking in, the greatness of it all dawned on her, as it always did. The smell of parchment made her feel safe, and the live energy of the place surprised her. Rarely did she see more than 10 people at a time, and here there were all sorts of students from all different houses. The Weasley smiled as she stepped through the study area, exploring the shelves full of the books she’d been familiarizing herself with for five years.
It wasn’t long before she spotted a familiar face, Tyson Crowshaw. The pair were relatively close, well as close as a fifth and seventh year could get. He was the Quidditch Captain for the team, and a Chaser to boot. It was him that Rose seemed to always seek the secondary approval from. To make sure she was playing okay, have her mind in the right place, etc. He was also one she’d seen in the library more than once. He was actually quite the intellectual, or so she’d seen. But in retrospect, she hadn’t actually had a very long conversation with him. With her normally bright and cheery demeanor, she approached the boy. ”Oi! Hello there!” she said with a smile.
(OOC: blegh! First, I am so sorry! I genuinely thought I’d responded to this already but it seems I haven’t! Second, that post was total garbage. I know this will pick up, but should I rewrite it? ☺ )
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Post by ruley on Dec 4, 2011 15:07:09 GMT 1
His essay was set to get students familiar with most if not all of the Charms theory they had done since the start of their OWL’s, many years ago. Tyson had a general intuitive feel for all the concepts, he wouldn’t have managed to get to where he was without them, but it was the kind of understanding he had trouble putting down onto parchment, similar to such a situation when you’re trying to explain an item to someone when you don’t know the name of it. As a result of this, his essay was purely formulaic, nothing fancy; it had mostly if not entirely been cobbled together from references from library books and research parchments in the back sections. It still had Tyson’s flare of introduction humour but beyond that he was rather disappointed with the work. He contemplated redoing it around an hour ago but had chosen not to, hoping it would improve as he wrote more, evidently that hasn’t happened yet.
He was starting to feel annoyed with himself as he marked off page seven, only a few paragraphs to go and he would be well over the five thousand word target, hopefully anyway. Before he could bring himself to continue, he nearly jumped out of his seat when a familiar red head greeted Tyson in her usual bubbly way. He held off from yelling with surprise to compose himself enough to return the favour. ”Rose, hey!” Was all he managed initially. He hadn’t gotten to know Rose very well since she had joined the quidditch team but they were on well enough terms to be called friends, if not a tad closer given they were quidditch team mates. Tyson wasn’t too star struck about how her parents were two thirds of the famous trio, given his own family experiences regarding remnants of he who must not be named. She was just a normal teenage girl in his eyes, one who worked exceptionally hard and had some fine quidditch skills, but normal none the less. ”What are you doing here at this hour?” He asked stupidly, knowing the answer would most likely be about work.
Notes: It’s ok, i had other threads around the site :3 and sorry about mine dropping in quality, bleh. Should pick up once we hit a good conversation topic!
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