|Scene Title||Mistaken Identity?|
|Synopsis||Spencer drops some books off for Madam Pince to check in, only to ask her about a certain bookworm.|
|Date||October 14, 1994|
|Watch For||Floating books!|
Diffused golden light is given off by enclosed globes of flame bracketed to towering mahogany bookshelves, flickering into even the dustiest recesses of the stacks. Here and there, open areas are littered with open tables, each set with chairs comfortable enough to sit in for hours, should one of the students need to study that long. At the end of certain popular shelves, small end tables with decorative lace doilies offer non-functional stained-glass lamps. The librarian's table is set near the expansive doors, kept impeccable neat. Hidden away in the darkness to the back of the library is a roped-off section, a wooden plaque overhead reading 'Restricted Section: Do Not Enter Without Permission'.
The quiet of the library isn't even interrupted by the light whispers of students as they murmur to one another in the many many rows of bookshelves. Madam Irma Pince occasionally glances up from behind her counter, peering at the students nearby before returning to stamping books. At one of the empty tables sits a young Ravenclaw girl in silence. Her long raven black hair tied up into a neat and precise French braid, sky blue eyes glancing through her wire round-rimmed glasses over the book before her as her fingertips brush over the worn, yellowed pages of Advanced Rune Translation. Releasing a slow breath, she leans back further in her chair, comfortable as her slender fingers flip the page aside, only for her hand to rise to the bridge of her nose and absently push up the glasses on her nose.
GAME: Save complete.
With a slow creak, the doors to the library swing open. "Would've thought they had that fixed by now." Spencer utters lowly, as he passes through the doors. In front of him are two stacks of books levitated and floating along. When he's through the doors far enough, he makes a backwards pushing motion with his hand and the doors close silently. Walking between the tables, he passes right by the one where the girl with glasses is sitting. As he passes and looks back, the expression on his face is one of curiosity. He knows she's a student, but she somehow looks familiar. Or maybe he's just hallucinating.
With her chin still down, her sky blue eyes flick upwards briefly, just enough to spot an young man moving through the tables, walking past her own with an odd glance. The Ravenclaw girl lifts a brow, meeting his eyes for a silent moment before her bright eyes behind those circular glasses returns to book in her slender hands, her expression passive. With a slow exhale, she leans back in her chair a bit, propping the book against the edge of the table as a hand reaches up to push up her round glasses along her nose, eyes never leaving the well-worn book.
As Spencer arrives at the desk, the books are raised and set on the counter. "Sorry, Madam Pince." he says, sounding sheepish. "I meant to get these back sooner, but some of the students didn't return them to me as requested." The librarian just looks at him over the rim of her glasses, seeking to make him even more sheepish. As she's sorting the books, he looks back towards Elizabeth, then back at Pince. "Who's the bookworm?" he asks, waiting for her to confirm all the books are accounted for.
Madam Pince flicks her eyes to Elizabeth at her table before looking back to the books, already sorting them before pulling out a large stamp, checking each in as her expression remains firm and almost sour. "So long as I have /all/ of them back." she answers crisply enough, paying little heed to his excuses. "Elizabeth Dweedle." Stomp, stamp, next book. "Ravenclaw, sixth year I believe. Intelligent." the librarian admits.
Spencer glances back and forth between the student and the librarian. "Interesting." he comments, watching the books get stamped as returned. "She reminded me of someone from when I was a student. I was curious."
The librarian arches a brow at the book as she stamps another in, her movements fluid and precise as she stamps another, "Hm. Well I'm not sure where you would know her from, if at all." she answers idly. "I believe her mother and father are Christine and Arthur Dweedle, owner of 'Dweedle's Wheedles'. I get shipments from the small store every now and then. Her father is rather knowledgeable."
"Strange." Spencer, nods, listening to the explanation. "Though you are right. The name doesn't ring a bell. Alas, I guess I was mistaken." he adds, shrugging his shoulders and tossing a grin at the librarian. "I trust these are in order?"
Madam Pince instantly narrows her eyes at the man, huffing lightly as she closes the cover of the last book and rests the stamp on top of the inkpad. "Indeed. Now if I can not help you any further, I must insist for you to keep your voice down and chananagines to a minimum. I do not tolerate pranks." she answers crisply, though her attention has already shifted, wrist flicking a wand at the stacks of books as they float with her steps. The girl at the table, however, shifts slightly in her seat some. In her hands a new book, though far from the textbooks of Hogwarts. In her hands, however, is a English to French dictionary.