After my less than stellar first performance with my new toy, things proceeded somewhat more smoothly the next day. I'd been forced to rethink the triggering charm on my explosive shell when I found that no it had not been a fluke. I'd also been forced to reevaluate how much explosives I actually pack into the thing. I wanted to make an impression, not become one. I'd thus created a new number one shell and reassigned the previous one to number ten since it was pretty much ten times more powerful than the new number one.
The other shells tested mostly fine. If you discount that I'd forgotten that Lava is really, really, really very hot. Like that dry things, like trees, spontaneously combust at ten paces from the stuff. Can anyone say forest fire? Anyone?
Fortunately my Aqua shell doubles as a very destructive fire extinguisher. It also flattened every tree within a ten-meter radius of the target. The lightning shell had been very bright, very loud and very brief. I'd been underwhelmed.
The Boulder shell would probably need additional work, or I'd have to reevaluate how I used them. I might want to consider alternate payloads along with similar themes as well. Maybe something along the line of a fragmentation grenade? I was hesitant, the memory of my recent misfire clear in my mind.
At the moment I was heading slowly towards the library to look for some appropriate charms to use towards making another gun. It would be hard since I wasn't entirely sure what I was looking for, but I'd know when I found it. The hallways were moderately populated by students heading towards… well, wherever they might be going. Probably to waste precious time instead of using it towards something more productive. I can't blame them I suppose, it was a nice Sunday afternoon. What teenager in their right mind would want to spend that time buried in books? Besides Raveclaws, that is. I expected to find a few moving around the library.
More than a few actually.
Not for the first time I wished that there were some Ravens that had any interest in applying all that they learned in a more practical way. I mean, what use is there in learning stuff if you didn't pull your wand out of whatever dusty orifice they stored it in and actually DO something. But no! Can't do that, it would cut in on their reading time. No, don't go there Andreas. You know how you get, don't let those shortsighted bookworms get your blood pressure up, again. Way to early for that.
As I approached the door to the library I stopped to take a calming breath, banishing any lingering frustration to the back of my mind, before entering my second home in this school.
The Hogwarts Library.
Hogwarts library was an impressive operation; the movies didn't really do it justice. It was far bigger for one, and when I'd first seen it, for a moment, I wondered if all those stupid fanfiction stories where Harry discovered the secret to ultimate power in this place might just be slightly possible. I'd seen some official art that came close to what it looked like. The Grand Library of Hogwarts was a massive labyrinthine multi-storied complex that was assuredly magically expanded. Great towering wooden bookcases made of a type of wood so dark they looked almost black, lovingly hand carved with decorative twisted pillars with gilded feet and tops.
The place was three stories high at most places, I say most because parts of it seemed to go up some towers and in parts, the third floor could have fit an additional fourth floor where the bookshelves were so tall that you needed one of the very unsafe looking ladders that were attached to rails along them. There were grand staircases and wooden walkways connecting and crisscrossing the whole place adding to the mystical feel of the library.
There were tables and chairs placed out at regular intervals in the middle of the wide corridors between shelves where students could study. There were also dedicated rooms one could use, which also doubled as reference libraries for specific branches of study, whichever that might be. Those were frequently unavailable because students liked to use them to avoid the ever roaming form of Madam Pince, which caused her to lock them up every now and again. This often necessitated a visit from one of the teachers, or often Dumbledore himself to get them open again. It seemed to be an ever-repeating cycle of war between the student, the Librarian, and Dumbledore. I think the old man found the whole thing amusing, though I doubt that notion was shared by Pince.
It was a plain amazing place. I still got tingly just looking around. I took a deep breath, smelling the air, full of the scent of wood, old leather, and parchment. With just a touch of that acidic smell of old ink. I'd come to love the smell thought my years here. Yeah, I might be a bit of a bibliophile. Sue me, I had some good memories of libraries, it was a safe haven during my school years, something that ironically held true in this time and place as well, if not for exactly the same reasons.
I gave a nod to a quite a bit younger Madam Pince as I passed by her desk, and got one in return. She wasn't all that bad looking at this point, being in her late thirties. I'd do her. Keeping on her good side wasn't too hard, just don't do anything to the books besides reading, and don't bring food into the library and she was quite forgiving. Oh, and don't talk to her or ask for help unless another teacher happened to be nearby. And don't disturb her when she was reading, which was whenever she wasn't stalking the library looking for student to get into trouble. Strangely enough most students seemed to have a problem with following those very easy requirements. I have no earthly idea why.
It was fun to watch Pince chase the idiots around with her feather duster though, or watch the idiot of the day get attacked by one of the books when they tried to write in it.
When I got there I spotted a familiar person, quietly reading a book at one of the tables.
Penelope Vablatsky was an oddball Hufflepuff that was nothing like what one would have expected of a Hufflepuff in terms of appearance or mannerisms. You'd expect a somewhat chubby, dark-haired, round-faced little person that just exuded good nature for every pore, always ready with a kind word and a comforting shoulder to lean on, likely accompanied by some kind of food. But, as Lys so bluntly demonstrates, Hufflepuff takes all kinds.
Penelope looked like a young Elsa from Frozen, with white-blond hair, blue eyes, and a willowy figure. Her mannerisms were more akin to Christina Ricci playing Wednesday Addams, fortunately without that one's rather gruesome extracurricular hobbies. I'd never seen her crack a smile, raise her voice, or really make much of an expression at all. Not once. Nothing seemd to shake her almost preternatural calm, which I found both fascinating, and a bit creepy. This wasn't necessarily a bad thing. But then again, I found the image of a grown up none homicidal Wednesday Addams titillating so there might be a one or two screws loose in my head.
We tended to partner together for most group projects which suited me just fine. She didn't talk much and knew her stuff, so I found that working with her was painless. I suspected she gravitated towards me for much the same reasons. This became particularly obvious as we grew up, and in her case, grew out, and boys started to take notice of her. She didn't seem too fond of the attention and would just happen to be around me every time we'd do something that required two or more people, like potions class. I found it to be a fine arrangement so I encouraged it by not drooling on her like the rest of the boys.
She looked up at me as I approached her table and gave me a shallow nod in recognition. "Ahlgren."
"Hey, Nel." I greeted her with the nickname I'd decided to foist off on her the first time we got paired up in class because Penelope was way too long for me to remember. She didn't seem to mind. Not that she ever did. "How's tricks?"
"I'm fine, thank you. And you?" Was her calm reply. Even her voice was monotone; it might have been eerie if it wasn't so chocolaty smooth. I bet she could sing like a nightingale.
"Eh." I shrugged and had to suppress a wince. Maybe I shouldn't shrug my shoulders when they are one big bruise.
Penelope apparently noticed anyway and she proceeded to give me a slow once over before looking me straight in the eyes. "You should be more careful."
Creepy.
She always did stuff like that. Saying and doing stuff that made me wonder if she knew things, things she shouldn't, couldn't possibly know. If she had done it only once or twice I would have easily dismissed it. But she always did. I still remember when we'd first met, she'd just stared at me for a while before giving me her condolences. Never said for what.
Suspicious. She'd been on my radar since. Not in any urgent way, just in a casual "lets keep half an eye on that one" kinda way. It was very casual.
I'd thought to ask her about it. Never been able to work up the nerve though, for some reason. Something about it just made me strangely nervous. Like I didn't want to know the answer or something. Very strange, very suspicious. I'd wondered if she was using some kind of mind trick on me, but even after I'd started to practice the mind arts the feeling hadn't gone away. Since she didn't seem interested in butting in on my business beyond the odd comment I'd reluctantly let the matter lie.
On a whim, I pulled out a chair and flopped down into it ungracefully while not taking my eyes of the suspicious blond. "So… what' cha reading?"
Penelope wordlessly raised her book up to allow me to read the title on the cover.
Stars and their Tales.
I frowned. "Astrology?"
She shook her head negatively "Astronomy, for class."
Suspicious… Was she poking fun at me? Or was it just coincidence? Damn wizards and their stupid naming sense. Someone really should do something about that. Set some standards. Something!
"Interesting read?" I tried.
"No." She answerd, not bothering to look up at me.
I scratched absently at my chin, I almost needed a shave, almost, "Right…"
Her eyes rose from the pages to study me again. "Don't you have something to do?"
"Probably." I sighed. "I'll tell you when I figure out what."
"Channel your ideas into a point," Penelope stated cryptically before closing her book and standing up to leave. "I will see you in class."
"What do you mean by that?" I asked her suspiciously
She started to walk off. "That I will see you in class."
"Not that!" I called after her. "Before that."
I didn't get an answer as she disappeared between the stacks. Channel your ideas into a point? What did she mean by that? I considered running after her for an answer, but something told me I wouldn't be finding her. Channel your ideas into a point? I hoped up from the chair and moved towards a random shelf and started to browse at random.
Channel your ideas into a point.
A point of what?
I pulled out a book at random and read the title. Dragon dung and its uses.
…
…
"Well, this is in the wrong place," I muttered to myself before showing the book back roughly. A bit too roughly as it caused a book further down, which had been placed on to of some other books to fall to the floor. I sighed and walked over and picked it up. "Common Agricultural Spells… hm."
I flipped it open to a random page.
Channel your ideas into a point.
I frowned and looked over where Penelope had disappeared before looking down at the open page which described a charm used to channel water. It wasn't a bad idea. I frowned again.
"That girl's gonna keep me up at night." I mutterd out lound. "And not in any of the fun ways either."