`` never stop learning [tag: simon]

[victoire]

Victoire crossed his arms over his chest, looking down at the open drawer in front of her. It was approximately nine thirty in the morning, and she was dressed in his outfit for the day; a plain black pair of pants and a white blouse, covered with black robes. It was nearing winter, and the weather was freezing cold. Yet, for some reason, she didn’t feel the need to cover up. This was the way that Victoire Weasley dressed, in almost any kind of weather. Of course, things were much more casual back home. But like most people, when away from her home, Victoire felt no need to wear her simple, casual clothes. She had to make a good impression, after all. She had learned that quickly after meeting some of the people at Hogwarts. There were kids (Victoire refused to call them anything but children, because she somehow could not fathom that she was anything else; although she was now seventeen years old, it hardly felt like she were an adult at all) at Hogwarts that weren’t worth it, of course. No matter where she went this was the case. Unfortunately, wizards and witches (except in the case of the Wizarding world, which happened to be very small in comparison) weren’t the most abundant in the Muggle world. That was, obviously, why there was such a distinction.

Muggles and muggleborns seemed to stay in their own little realm. Wizards, witches, and magical beings were to remain in secret in the Wizarding world, though. She knew why. There were people, people like Zabinis and Malfoys, like Crabbes and Goyles, who wouldn’t have it any other way. And yet, even while this was the rule, people broke it anyway. Victoire knew the phrase ‘rules were made to be broken’ very well. she heard it used all the time by the people around her. And whilst Victoire Weasley made sure that she appeared to be acting to the best of her ability, she knew that Dominique and Louis, her siblings, had no such philosophy. They figured that they were young and invincible. It was a decent attitude, too. That was, as long as they didn’t get in too much trouble for it. Things like that did tend to bite one in the arse if you weren’t careful enough to cover your tracks But she wasn’t going to bother himself with such thoughts now. Dominique and Louis were off doing their own thing, running amuck in the Gryffindor or Ravenclaw Common Room or somewhere else in the castle. They couldn’t be and wouldn’t be her top priority. Today was Saturday, and the beginning of the eventful weekend that would lie ahead. This weekend would be especially busy. She was planning to sneak out of the castle with a few of her friends.

They were going to head out to Diagon Alley for a nice day out of the castle, and perhaps even meet up with some friends. Heading out to the Main Hall, Victoire Weasley looked her over once again. She looked decent. This would have to do. Victoire looked around the long, stone hallway, checking around her to make sure that nobody was following her. She was having a bad enough day, it seemed, and the last thing that she wanted was to be caught by a prefect and given a weeks’ worth of detention. Seeing that nobody was in the corridor and that she was completely alone, Victoire did his best to run down the hallway on the fourth floor of the school. At the end of the corridor, there was a secret passageway. This was something that not many students knew about (or at least, claimed to know about, although many seemed to know about them as they reached their fifth and sixth years at Hogwarts), and something that Victoire was proud to know. At the end of the hallway, in between a portrait of a young girl on a horse and one of Gregory the Smarmy, there was a three by one foot mirror, surrounded by a light silver frame. Victoire stood in front of it, running a hand through her blonde hair. The girl in the portrait beside her giggled. “Is somebody feeling a bit self conscious?” she asked, politely getting off of the equestrian animal. she shook his head, refusing to talk to her. Victoire had encountered this young maiden a few times, and had a few friendly banters. Now, though, she did not have the time to participate in such conversations. She made her way to the library and sat down at a table, looking through one of the books another student left behind.

[levi]

most people who didn't know simon very well would be surprised if he told them he enjoyed to read. after all, there were so many stereotypes that played against him in that fact. first of all, he was a male. it was stupid, and not so common nowadays, but people, girls in particular, seemed to think that guys had rocks for brains. which, some of the slytherins probably did. but he certainly was not stupid. he was just lazy. which brought him to the second point. people figured that because he did not do homework or read textbooks, that he did not read. textbooks were nothing compared to fictional literature. he could fall asleep almost instantly when attempting to read a recipe for a potion. but a good novel? well, that could keep him awake for days straight until he finished it.

his love for reading came from all the summers he had spent alone in the abercrombie manor. their neighbourhood was full of muggles, and most of them just happened to be girls. so naturally, his sister had found no problems making friends in the area and spent most of her childhood playing tea parties or barbies with them. but he had no one, so instead he had found books.

so today he had decided to spend his time in the library, hunting down some new books. the hogwarts library had a rather small section of muggle books, but the ones they had in there were classics. things like tale of two cities, and Shakespeare plays were organized neatly in the bookshelves. and while he had read almost every book there, occasionally they got a new one. today he had found two of his favourites, a book full of the original grimm fairytales, and a play titled the crucible. there was nothing new, but there was nothing wrong with rereading. he had left them on a table while going on a hunt to see if there was anything put in the wrong bookshelf that he hadn't read, but there was no luck there.

simon headed back to his table and stopped when he saw that someone had sat down at his table and was flipping through the fairytales. A girl that read the same sort of books as he did? Or maybe she had just been curious. Either way, there was no way to find out without asking. He sat across from her, sliding the crucible over and opening it to the first page, where it began describing the setting of the house of Samuel Parris. "those aren't for the light hearted. they aren't the sort of fairytales you normally hear of." he commented, glancing at the girl from over his book. she was quite pretty, with blonde hair and a certain french look to her. all just a bonus to the fact that she read.

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[victoire]

victoire sighed, flipping one page after another in the book. it was one that she had read before; the original fairytales of the brothers grimm were some of her favorites. while her brother, sister, and cousins preferred the light-hearted stories of beedle the bard. however, when it came down to victoire’s personal favorites, she always picked ones that were darker or contained gore. as a child, victoire’s mother worried over her, thinking that she would grow up to be some sick kind of child. but in the end, it turned out that that she simply had a twisted sense of humor. one thing that victoire loved more than the stories themselves were the illustrations. the illuminated letters, with their flourishes and serifs, the way the text was written in a germanic font, the little section breakers that were scattered throughout the book – they all made her feel warm and fuzzy inside, like she was reliving a loved childhood memory.

she had her finger on sleeping beauty’s dress when she noticed a boy sitting across from her. she looked up at him, raising an eyebrow for a second or two, before deciding that he didn’t seem to be too bothersome. he was tall and thin, and looked like he put a lot of effort into fixing his hair before showing his face in public. a few stereotypes jumped out at her ,but she kept her mouth shut. she didn’t want to offend him before he even said his name. she let him slide the smaller book towards him, and she didn’t even have a chance to glance at the cover. “trust me, i know what i’m reading. i’ve read these before,” she smiled, pushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. he looked nice, even if he appeared to already start making assumptions about her. the grimm fairytales were classics, like works of shakespeare and the picture of dorian gray. anyone that hadn’t read them was clearly illiterate, or at the very least, uneducated when it came to good works of literature.

“i’m victoire, by the way. victoire weasley.” she offered her hand across the table.

[levi]

it was almost magical, the way an author could pull you into a story. all a book was were just some words put on a page, but people actually managed to find the perfect combinations of the words to actually make a picture in one's mind. it was crazy how muggles could put so much effort into entertaining someone, they actually spent years of their lives writing these stories. wizard writing just never seemed as beautiful as the stuff the muggles wrote. maybe because wizard life was so simple. they could control almost anything with magic, but the muggles had to find different ways around everything. they couldn't just wave a wand and make things happen for them. it was almost magical in a way.

simon glanced down to see which story she was reading. he hand was on the dress of the princess, which he recognized as little briar rose, or as the newer versions called her, sleeping beauty. he had always liked the tale of sleeping beauty, simply because it was not the villains fault that she fell into the sleep, but her own. she had disobeyed her parents orders to stay away from spindles and ended up in a deep sleep for one hundred years. in a way, he liked that she had gotten what was coming to her. "i didn't mean to sound like i was making assumptions," he began, not wanting to anger the girl already. "but there's a lot of wizards in the school who have never read muggle fairytales. i wasn't sure if you knew what you were getting yourself into"

he nodded as she introduced herself. as soon as she had said the name, it had hit him. how hadn't he guessed it before? almost everyone knew of the weasley family due to their involvement in the battle of hogwarts years ago, before he was born. and she was part french, that was fairly uncommon here. maybe he just hadn't been paying attention. "simon abercrombie" he said, taking the hand she had offered and giving it a small shake before taking his hand back to flip the page of his play. "it's nice to hear that someone else appreciates muggle classics. if you don't mind me asking, what is your favourite tale?"

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[victoire]

victoire looked at him strangely. was it really that uncommon to read muggle stories? she thought about it, and supposed it was true; even though voldemort (she refused to call him anything but his name, having learnt from her parents that fear of the name only increases fear of the thing itself) and his followers were defeated years ago, muggles still seemed to be taboo. at least, they seemed that way to some people. they usually were children of old, pureblooded families…and slytherins. victoire knew this was an old stereotype…but nonetheless, it was one that was mostly true. but her family, the weasley family, rarely held prejudice against muggles. some even went as far as to call them blood traitors.

she traced the intricate border around the picture with her index finger. she loved old books like this one, where the corners were bent and the pages worn down. they felt like heaven between her fingers, and smelled like a newly discovered piece of treasure. the beautiful writing made the book even more interesting. she closed her eyes and tried to picture the dress in all of its beauty. when she was a young girl, her mother, fleur, bought golden fabric and sewed a princess dress for victoire. according to her mother, victoire wore the dress everywhere, from her grandmother’s house to diagon alley and every stop in between. apparently, once she reached the age of eight, victoire grew tired of her princess gown and gave it to dominique. she didn’t remember whether or not her sister wore it, but looking back, she had to admit that she did love that dress. victoire bit the inside of her cheek. “its alright. but i’ve read these before. i know what i’m getting myself into,” she flashed the boy a confidant smile.

he shook her hand, and his hand was warm. noticing that the library appeared to be warmer than the rest of the castle, she shrugged out of her robes. his question made her think. what was her favorite fairytale? there were so many ones to choose – rapunzel, sleeping beauty, the wolf and the seven kids – how could she possibly pick just one? “i’m not really sure, you know? i want to say rapunzel, because i wanted to look like her when i was little, and it’s a sad tale … but my favorite fairytale isn’t even by the brothers grimm, as strange as that sounds.” her absolute favorite was by hans christian anderson – the little mermaid. that one was ten times more tragic, and brought tears to her eyes each and every time. “what about you, mr. abercrombie? what is your favorite story?”

[levi]

it was odd when you thought about it, that the muggles were the ones with the darker tales. it would be thought that wizards would have the scarier stories, from all of the terrifying things that happen in the wizard world, but their fairytales were rather tame when compared to the muggles. perhaps it was because they knew terrible magic existed, and did not want to write horrifying stories for their children because those exact things could happen in their world. muggles believed it was all false. wizards knew otherwise.

growing up, his parents had read him different stories. his father would always stray to the recent ones about harry potter and his friend defeating the evil lord voldemort, although he would never let his sister hear about those. simon supposed that his father believed that a little boy would want to hear about a brave hero overcoming a terrible villain. but it had always been his mothers' stories that got him with their interesting moments, the fairytales and the muggle books. he enjoyed the ones that had nothing to do with witches and wizards most, because he could pretend that they were all fictional and love them without knowing that things within the story existed and had absolutely nothing in common with the false ones in his stories. "ah, well that's good then." he responded, returning the smile she gave.

simon nodded and laughed when she told him her reason for wanting to be rapunzel. in his opinion, besides the crazy long hair, she did already resemble the locked away princess quite a bit. at least, how he always imagined her. "oh? and which fairytale would that be?" he asked, trying to imagine what she would say. it would probably be a hans christian andersen one, as they were up there in popularity just as the grimm ones were. but what was his favourite? he has asked victoire for hers without even considering his own. "i'd have to say by the grimm brothers that it is little red cap. when i was younger i chased my sister around the house pretending to be the wolf. although, like yours, my favourite tale isn't actually by them either. i'm a jack and the beanstalk kind of guy."

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[victoire]

she thought about the wizard tales that she read, and it took her a minute to decide which one of those were her favorites. beedle the bard usually wrote about wizards helping muggle towns and making their lives easier. but in the end, the wizards also learned that magic did not mean simplicity; magic brought new kinds of trouble. just like in muggle stories, they all ended in ‘happily ever after’ and taught children not to go wandering alone in the woods at night. the original tales of the brothers grimm were so much more interesting. she could read them over and over again, the poetic syntax gliding effortlessly through her mind. her favorite wizard’s tale had to be the warlock’s hairy heart.

she loved the stories that didn’t end well. victoire knew that many things did not end ‘happily ever after,’ because life was full of cruelties and bad people, and good people who made bad choices. she learned that at an early age by watching her uncle george. he once had been a twin, forever finishing the sentences that his identical brother started. but in the battle of hogwarts, fred weasley had been killed, and since then, uncle george was only a shadow of who he used to be. at least, that was how her mother told the story. she always thought that her uncle was just as normal as anyone else – but if her mother said it had been different, she probably was right. the world was full of sadness, and victoire liked stories that reflected such feelings.

“my personal favorite is hans christian andersen’s the little mermaid. but not the one that everyone else likes. i like the original version, where her tears scatter across the sea and she turns into the white foam on the waves.” she answered. there was no hesitation in her answer. this was her favorite story. she was sure of it. “you have a sister? does she go to hogwarts, or is she too young?” she asked. it didn’t even cross victoire’s mind to ask if he was muggleborn. to her, everyone had magical siblings; it just seemed like the reasonable follow up question. not that there was anything wrong with being muggleborn … she wasn’t a prejudiced bigot or anything. “i would’ve pegged you for a fan of violent stories.”

[levi]

simon hadn't expected to find someone to talk to in the library. usually everyone was so busy when they were in here, studying or trying to finish up some overdue homework. it was very rare for another student to come in here just to relax and read a book, unless they were one of those crazy ravenclaws that did nothing but read. and usually those people were reading boring stories, ones that taught you things rather than the type that were just written for pure entertainment. and he certainly hadn't expected to find someone who actually knew about muggle stories. he had grown up with a muggle mother, so she read him the stories all the time. and he grew up in a muggle neighbourhood with a library right around the corner, that he visited quite frequently. but he hadn't expected a girl from a pureblood family to read those stories. where had she gotten her hands on them?

he nodded when she told him her favourite story, he had certainly read the little mermaid. he remembered being bored by it as a child, simply because it hadn't interested a young boy. his sister had hated that story, as the ending was unhappy. she didn't seem to realize that not every fairytale had a happily ever after. the only stories she had enjoyed were ones such as cinderella or snow white, where the beautiful princess found her prince and married him. he supposed that was typical of a young girl. but it didn't change the fact that he had never liked hearing her favourite stories.

"so you enjoy the ones that don't have a happily ever after as well? i wouldn't have pegged you as one for the tragedies." he said, running a hand through his hair. he closed his book, as he figured he wouldn't be too much reading. "my favourite be andersen is the wicked prince. probably because it was one of the few stories that showed the royal family in a negative view." as a child, he always connected the royal families in stories with his pureblood family that caused trouble for his father. he had never liked them much, although his sister had loved them. "she's in her fifth year. gryffindor as well." he grinned, he loved the fact that their family tradition of always being in gryffindor was still running. he was sure his children would be sorted into the house of bravery as well, although he would not mind it if they weren't, as long as they were not in slytherin.

"well of course, what's a good story without violence?" he asked, with a grin. his favourite part of jack and the beanstalk had always been jack cutting down the stalk and killing the giant. it was just so different than most of the stories with their tame endings.

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[victoire]

victoire looked down at her wrist and fiddled with the charm bracelet that her mother had given her. she liked the silver bracelet, and wore it everywhere, only taking it off when she had to take a shower or wanted to go for a swim. it reminded her of home, even when she didn’t want to be reminded, and was dainty and perfect, just as she pictured her mother to be. victoire was very close to her mother … even if she wasn’t close to the rest of her family. she looked up at simon again when he started to speak. he was a surprising person. she didn’t really think that there were people like her, who looked past the happily ever afters and went for the darker stories. well, that wasn’t exactly true. she was pretty sure people existed that were like her – she just wasn’t entirely certain that they were sane.

“hans christian anderson is my favourite, really. if he were still alive and handsome, i’d marry him. true story.” she nodded, as if doing so enhanced the point she was making. so he did have a sister! that was interesting. she had one too…dominique, not that she particularly cared for the girl. while victoire loved her sister, she found the girl to be annoying, and would never tell anyone that dominique was a tolerable person. after all, that was what sisters were for, right? “that’s nice. do you and your sister get along, then?” she asked. some siblings got along without any issues. victoire envied them. how could they play nice so easily? she found it nearly impossible.“so, you probably know my cousins, being in gryffindor and all. are you friends with them? or do they annoy the bloody hell out of you too?” victoire smirked. most people that heard of the weasleys either despised them or thought of the whole family as heroes…even though many of them had been born after the war. it would be interesting to see how simon thought of them.

[levi]

simon laughed at her comment about marrying andersen. if he was still alive, he certainly would not be handsome. the man was rather creepy looking in his opinion, as did most other people who lived in that day and age. the fact that they all glared in the paints of them did not help either. those pictures always made him feel like they were staring straight into his soul. which was incredibly creepy, to say the least. "you wouldn't marry him if he wasn't handsome? isn't that a little shallow?" he commented with a grin. it wasn't as if he was one that could talk though, he was rather shallow himself. if a girl wasn't the slightest bit pretty, he wouldn't associate himself with her. it was how he worked. ugly girls did nothing for him, and their personality could be the most wonderful thing in the world and he still would not date her. some people looked at him badly for that, but it wasn't his fault. he just wasn't attracted to ugly girls.

simon almost laughed when she asked if he got along with his sister. they had absolutely nothing in common, and very rarely spoke to one another. she had a life, and that seemed not to include him. she didn't even come home for the holidays anymore, and whenever she was at home in the summer she brought someone else with her. he remembered the one week of the entire summer she had been home, she had brought some boy with her and spent most of the time holed up in her room doing things he really did not want to picture his sister doing. he had been disturbed everytime he had seen that guy walking around in the corridors since then, although he no longer had to worry about him anymore. his sister had dumped his ass just a few weeks after that summer visit.

"we don't speak much." was all he said about his sister. if much defined to never, then it was a completely true statement. he figured that the details could be left out of the conversation. his family was pretty dysfunctional. not that anyone would guess that because they never saw any of them together. his mother and father worked constantly, his sister ran off with her friends and he stayed at home, reading fairytales. that wasn't normal by any standards. "i know them," he replied, thinking of the various weasley's in his house. "they aren't bad. i'm not too close with any of them though, to be honest. i assume you don't care too much for them?"

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