1994-09-27: Rune Mysteries

Participants:

Bertrum_icon.gif Elizabeth_icon.gif

Scene Title Rune Mysteries
Synopsis While reading in the Library, Bertrum ends up chatting with Elizabeth briefly.
Location Hogwarts, Library
Date September 27, 1994, 7:00 p.m.
Watch For Bertrum fleeing for his life
Logger Elizabeth

Hogwarts, Library

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 raise to the bridge of her nose and absently push up the glasses on her nose.

The soft sound of leather soles on the floor is the first herald of Bertrum Holmwood's activity in the library, as most of the students are seated with their parchment, quills, and books. Bertie, meanwhile, mills about the shelves and coincidentally the tables, a copy of Theories of Transubstantial Transfiguration tucked under one arm. He purses his lips as he studies the spines of the various and diverse tomes on the shelf before he reaches the end of the aisle, where his gaze slides to Elizabeth's back.
Of course, the Ravenclaw is no stranger, despite being in a different house and a year ahead of Bertie. Smiling crookedly, Bertie walks from the aisle to Elizabeth's table, where he bends to look at her face rather than the back of her head.
"Hello, Miss Dweedle," he says in a library-appropriate whisper and with a gentility a little beyond his age. He quickly darts his eyes to the page she's reading and squints for a better view at his current distance. "Couldn't give them up, I see." Squinting a bit further at a passage of the ancient markings, his smile widens.
"I know a twelfth one if I see, up in a tree, a dangling corpse in a noose, I can so carve and colour the runes, that the man walks, and talks with me. There." The translation isn't without a bit of egotism, but Bertie smiles unashamedly. "Keeping it up just for the pleasure, are we?"

At the sound of her name, Elizabeth's sky blue eyes flick up from under her glasses to glance up at Bertrum, narrowing slightly to study him for a brief moment before he looks over her shoulder and effortlessly translates the runes on the page. A ebony brow quirks lightly, the silence lingering in the air for several long moments before her bright sky blue eyes return to the book in front of her. "That is now proved, what you asked of the runes, of the potent famous ones, which the great gods made, and the mighty sage stained, that it is best for him if he stays silent." she recites out loud, though those runes aren't on her current page. She releases a slow breath, her fingertips lingering on the edge of the page. "I am rereading a copy of Advanced Rune Translation that has been in my possession for a full five years. Yes, it is purely recreational, though I fail to see any reason to 'give them up' in the first place, so the point seems mute." She arches a brow, the only curious expression to be seen as her eyes and features remain passive. "Interesting. Not many can decipher runes as easily as you have. It suggests extensive studies and research on the matter."

At the sound of her name, Elizabeth's sky blue eyes flick up from under her glasses to glance up at Bertrum, narrowing slightly to study him for a brief moment before he looks over her shoulder and effortlessly translates the runes on the page. A ebony brow quirks lightly, the silence lingering in the air for several long moments before her bright sky blue eyes return to the book in front of her. "That is now proved, what you asked of the runes, of the potent famous ones, which the great gods made, and the mighty sage stained, that it is best for him if he stays silent." she recites out loud, though those runes aren't on her current page. She releases a slow breath, her fingertips lingering on the edge of the page. "I am rereading a copy of Advanced Rune Translation that has been in my possession for a full five years. Yes, it is purely recreational, though I fail to see any reason to 'give them up' in the first place, so the point seems mute." She arches a brow, the only curious expression to be seen as her eyes and features remain passive. "Interesting. Not many can decipher runes as easily as you have. It suggests extensive studies and research on the matter."

"Or extensive recreation," Bertie counters, his smile only strengthened by the older student's brief treatise. He places the theoretical Transfiguration book on the table as he slips into the seat beside Elizabeth, then rests his arm on the cover. "One must have a way to past the weary summer nights when one isn't being dragged to social engagements or locked out of the library. Though what did you take instead? I've been curious." But then again, what is Bertie not curious about?

Her brow quirks lightly at the book in her hands, "Regardless extensive studies or recreation, it still implies a higher than average attention span and memory to detail." Elizabeth allows easily, though as he takes a seat beside her, her eyes glance up, briefly confused for a moment before glancing back to her book. As if whatever questions she had were pushed away as irrelevant. "A seemingly endless curiosity that needs to be quenched, no doubt." she murmurs, "Regardless of Household, we do seem to share that aspect." After a brief moment, she releases a slow sigh, her fingertips lightly turning another page. "I have an elective. Wizarding Literature. Though why you are curious of such things is peculiar in itself."

Bertie sits back in his chair and turns to face the table rather than Elizabeth, his own eyebrows furrowed in thought. "Peculiar? I don't see how. Ancient Runes are good for historical purposes, but there is nothing new in it. Theory," and Bertie places his palms lovingly on the cover of the library book, letting his fingertips rest on the embossed text of the emblazoned title, "now that is something where there are no bounds - where the rules can be tested and rewritten and discoveries can be made." Bertie looks up from the book and off into space then, his expression whimsical and dreamy, though unlike many boys of his house and year, the object of such admiration lacks certain physical characteristics.

Giving him a sideways glance, Elizabeth gives the boy an odd, curious glance that barely brushes across her facial expression. An ebony brow arches before only a moment before he continues on about general theory. Her sky blue eyes behind her glasses blink with evident surprise, caught off guard completely for a quiet moment before her hand reaches up to push her circular glasses on her nose. Looking towards her book again, she ponders briefly before answering, "Peculiar is your curiosity of what electives I am currently entered in. Though I do believe you specified the question to what one such as myself usually does to 'past the weary summer nights'." Her eyes study the page, though it is after a quiet moment does the rarest of sights are to behold. The corner of her full lips tugs with something of amusement. "You are speaking with the assumption that there is nothing left to be discovered or uncovered. There are many mysteries that wizards have yet to decipher with unknown languages and runes. It is just most have given up for one reason or another. A pity, really, that such mysteries of the world are at one's fingertips without the key to unlock it."

"You can unlock the mysteries of the past," Bertie says with a coy smile as he slowly turns his head back toward Elizabeth. "And in the meantime, I'll be making more." It takes a moment for her comments regarding his own remarks take a moment to sink in. Bertie blinks, then shakes his head. "What? No! That's not what I…" As if she were exerting a poison of some sort, Bertie leans a little away from the Ravenclaw, bracing himself against the table. "Those were my nights. I don't know what you do in the summers. I don't really care to-" But Bertie stops short. He does care to know, if only for the sake of knowing. "Well I didn't care to know before."

"Agreed then. Your mysteries will keep me occupied. Should they provide to be any sort of a challenge at least." Elizabeth answers easily with a slight shrug of a shoulder, her sky blue eyes still focusing some of her attention as they talk to one another. It's when he leans back and braces himself against the table does she look from her book to the Slytherin boy, focusing on him through her round-rimmed glasses as she frowns a bit at his reaction, seeming honestly confused. She lets a moment of silent pass, seeing as he is clearly revolted by something. "You are very strange." she says, honest. "I spend my summers at the bookstore. Hardly interesting or relevant to the topic at hand. I was merely stating that you are peculiar because of your expressed interest in my academic activates. There is no apparent gain to learn of such things," she shrugs a shoulder again, her slender fingers closing her book. "But you asked. I saw no reason not to answer. However, I'm not certain what you are rambling on about."

There is silence on Bertie's part for a moment before he clears his throat and blinks repeatedly for several seconds. "Well, I… It's nothing, is all. Nothing. But a pity that you had to spend days in a shop. Not quite the best atmosphere, I imagine. Pity, that, yes." Rambling, now, Bertie drums his fingers against the cover of his book once. Then, in a rush of movement, he stands and sweeps the volume up into his arms once more. "Lovely running into you, Miss Dweedle. I'll leave you to your runic literature. Yes. Yes, right." With a nod, Bertie turns on his heel to move, chin tucked, toward Madam Pince's desk.

Elizabeth gives the boy an odd glance as he stands to his feet, rushing to Madam Pince's desk with his book in his arms. She arches a brow at him for a moment before shaking her head, honestly confused about human interactions, or in this case, reaction. With a light exhale, she pushes out her chair enough to lean forward, sliding her book into her knapsack before replacing it with another, pulling out a copy of Magical Hieroglyphs and Logograms. Resting it on the table, she leans back in her chair again, and as she opens it on the table another hand reaches back to pull her braid over her shoulder. Breathing out slowly, she unties the navy blue ribbon from its knot, letting it fall onto the table. Her slender fingers work at the braid, her sky blue eyes reading first page with some interest as her fingers free her long raven hair from its confinement, releasing waves over her shoulders.

But Bertie merely watches Elizabeth in glances as the librarian checks out his book. Once he's free from the bureaucracy and the book is tucked safely beneath one arm, Bertie makes a bee-line for the door, his head bent slightly and his steps quick. He does pause momentarily at Elizabeth's table again, but there is too much embarrassment and awkwardness for him to think of anything to say, or find a way in which to say it that wouldn't result in more embarrassment and awkwardness. At a loss, then, Bertie continues on his way to the door, shaking his head and muttering quietly to himself.

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