|Scene Title||Courtyard Rendezvous|
|Synopsis||Crane and Braeden share a discussion in the Fountain Courtyard, joined briefly by Derek.|
|Date||September 5, 1994|
One of the most distinguishing features of this courtyard is the large fountain placed right in the center that bubbles merrily throughout the year. Surrounding the fountain are several stone benches which provide a spot for students to study, or for anyone else to just sit there and take in the sound of the water in the fountain. The walls of the courtyard are solid stone from the ground up to about three feet. After that, there's a line of columns that provide open spots and allow passage into other parts of the castle. Including passage into the entrance hall.
The day has seemed to wear on for Braeden, nearing afternoon for what would be the N.E.W.T.s Potions class with a bit of a twist. This year it seemed the fifth year students were being included on the opening class for the first day or at least, Snape may have changed his corriculum. The young man sits on the edge of the fountain either way with a roll of parchment in hand, carefuly pulling off the binding cord before unrolling it to read whatever was written within. "Hellebore and Pomegranate. Is he having is make -two- potions today?" He mutters to himself before looking up towards castle itself with a thoughtful cast to his eyes.
Another student makes his way into the little courtyard, carrying a bookbag and an armful of parchment and quills that make it pretty obvious he's on his way to go study or finish homework somewhere. Crane pauses once he enters the enclosure, his cool blue eyes settling on Braeden where the other boy is seated. He smirks and continues on his way, which just happens to bring him quite near the fountain itself, and stops once he's five paces away or so. "Evening, McCauley. Doing work for Snape, I see?" He tsks 'sympathetically'. "I've heard his N.E.W.T. class is a real killer."
Braeden tilts his head to look up at the other student with a suspicious glance, "Professor Snape seems to have included a bit extra for this starting class." He offers conversationaly, seeming to have gotten past the squabble on the train regarding the other Prefect. The silver badge seems to catch the light as he shifts, showing for House Gryffindor. "Lucky you that you're a fifth year hm Crane? You get to jump right on in with us today." He glances back down at the parchment in front of him after that, scanning over the list of supplies one more time with a musing look in his eyes. "That's unless it's a potion not generaly listed at least."
"Ah, yes, Professor Snape. Good to see a Gryffindor offering such fond and respectful observance of titles for our dear Slytherin Head of House," Crane says wryly, lifting a long-fingered hand to push a few bangs away from his face as he does. At this point he notices the sunlight catching the badge, and tilts his head slightly to the side. "Ohhh, I see. Well, congratulations, McCauley." The bookbag he's carrying is set down on the edge of the fountain on the side opposite Braeden. "So, what do you think the good Professor will have us studying today? Since you've taken two more years of his class than I, perhaps you'll have a better idea."
The Gryffindor Prefect turns his head slowly to get a better look at the other young man, a raised brow offered to him in regards to the starting comment. "I've only decided to look at things from another angle is all. Thank you either way." He glances down again at the parchment he'd written the requirements on again before rolling it up in the palm of his hand. "At the moment from what i've looked into, there are two potions that use the ingrediants he's requiring of us. One of which is Strengthening Solution and the other being the Draught of Peace. I've not made either of them before." The last comes with a thoughtful sound as he studies the other man ever longer before adding again, "Those who made it into the 6th year class with him are expected to know things as they walk in without instruction. I'm unsure if he's doing the same to the 5th year."
"But of course," Crane replies, merely arching a brow in return to the explanation offered to him. "Strengthening Solution and Draught of Peace, though - those are both rather complicated, aren't they?" The Fifth Year doesn't sit down yet, but he does set down the rest of his parchment, keeping one quill in his hand. He taps the point of it against a finger, testing it to make certain it's functional. "But yes, I believe Sn- Professor Snape, that is - will probably start doing that to us this year. With O.W.L.s coming up and whatnot.. not that I'm really worried, mind." He glances around the courtyard and snickers. "Considering that the majority of the people in this school are on the shallow side of the brain pool, it's not that hard to excel."
Braeden raises one leg to cross over the other with the sweep of his cloak as he picks up his pack from the side of the fountain to rest in his lap. The faint quick of his lips could be seen regarding what the other's correction though he doesn't say anything in regards to it. "Both are yes. The Draught of Peace is particularly complicated in that you have to do everything just right. Ironicaly, you could very possibly have it explode on you." He gently raps the back of his pack after that, the dull thud of something iron within audible. "The intelligence of those around you doesn't matter in regards to the O.W.L.s though. Exceling beyond what you may think as lower isn't really an accomplishment if the bar isn't that high no? The O.W.L.s aren't quite as bad as they're made out to be though if you've got your head on straight."
Finally taking a seat, Crane retrieves one of the pieces of parchment and begins to idly jot down a few lines on it. The bookbag is soon opened, and he pulls out a text and sets it nearby - for Potions class, obviously - and frowns. "You know, though, I've heard that hellebore on its own is poisonous. Odd that it'd be an ingredient in a Draught of /Peace/." His tone is conversational enough at this point, and he smirks at the other young man's seeming admonishment. "I suppose that's something to take into consideration. I seem to hear plenty of horror stories about the O.W.L.s, but the worst part about them seems to be the cramming that most people do leading up to them. Honestly, I've never taken that much time studying; you can only retain so much information, after all, and especially so if you try to learn it all within a short period."
"You think so?" Braeden replies with a hint of amusement in his tone as he sets the roll of parchment that was in his lap away in the pack he'd had with him. The glint of iron from his cauldron could be seen from a ray of sun as he does so alongside his own quills and otherwise. "My belief is that if you keep yourself focused on the goal at hand, then you wouldn't need to study quite as hard as most of the other students do. If you're meant to pass, then you'll have the necessary skills for it shown by your current study habits already." The faint curl of his lips would signify his thoughts on that though he looks past the Fifth year to study a few passing Ravenclaw with an almost scruitinous eye. "If I were you, i'd start studying and practicing things now if you haven't already."
With a smirk, Crane shrugs. "Well, now that I think of it, I suppose poison is used more in times of peace than times of war, isn't it? Perhaps it does make sense." The Slytherin scrawls another line or two down on his parchment and leans back, dipping one hand in the fountain's reservoir. "Ah, well, I appreciate the advice, McCauley - although I suspect I'll be entirely fine when test-time comes around. I always am." He laughs and flicks the water off of his hand, then turns a few pages in his text. Derek is given a scrutinous look as he approaches, and the Fifth Year offers a polite nod to the young boy.
Braeden has partially disconnected.
Braeden seems to think on that for a few moments before eying him skepticaly, "You do have a point. Though as to whether the poison is tangible or not…" He doesn't finish the sentence. Instead, he rises from his seat with a slow hum as he glances across the fountain towards the first year casualy. The colors would be studied for a brief moment before he hefts his pack up over his shoulder with the light jumble of a few things within. "I suppose so. We'll just have to see when it comes hm?" With that, he raises a hand with a three fingered wave before gazing off towards the castle once more as his feet begin carrying him that way.
It's a fairly cool evening, but sunny and pleasant enough outside to warrant spending time outdoors if dressed appropriately. Crane is currently seated on the ledge of the large fountain in the middle of the courtyard; he offers a brief wave to Braeden as the older Gryffindor departs, and then glances towards Derek as he takes a seat nearby. "An incomer, hm? Lots of fresh meat this year." His lips quirk into a sallow smirk, and he taps his quill roughly on the sheet of parchment in his lap several times to get the ink flowing again. "What's your name, firstie?"
Derek keeps on scratching the paper with his pen, he stops and dips the tip into the ink bottle next to him as he pulls it out he scraps the tip off to stop extra ink geting on then goes back to writing and reading. Derek stops and looks up from his writing, he smiles at the older Slytherin. "I'm Derek Rimmer and you are?"
"Crane," Crane replies succinctly, giving the young Slytherin a few more seconds of appraising-stare before he turns back to his own work. "Might want to remember that, young master Rimmer. If you need a favor anytime in the future, let me know. I like to be helpful." He chuckles and flips the textbook he'd been looking in closed, then reaches into his own leather-bound bookbag to get another which he opens up and sets down.
Derek nods as he get's back to writing out his homrwork for Prof Snape, he keeps scribing on the paper and reloading the pen with ink when ne needs too.
Arching a brow at the other boy's silence, Crane merely shrugs. After a moment more of writing something down on his sheet of parchment he finishes up, flipping the textbook closed and slipping it back inside his bookbag with a grimace. The parchment and quills follow, and he stands up with a feline yawn. "Cat got your tongue? Ah well - good luck, firstie. Another time." With that, he stalks back out of the courtyard, apparently heading to whatever class it is he's scheduled for next.
Derek looks up from his book and smiles. "You too, maybe we can meet again in the common room after school?"
"Maybe," Comes the half-shouted reply, prior to Crane's ducking into the school entrance.