Study on a Sunday (Vincent)

Antares was the daughter of two Slytherins, and it had been expected that she would follow her family into Slytherin house. It was something that the hat seriously considered, and although she had asked it to do just that, it had decided otherwise. Ravenclaw was not a house to be ashamed of, of course, it was no Gryffindor. But it was not the house in which her entire family had been placed in before her. Sometimes her friends wondered why she was not a snake, but at other times they teased her for being 'such a Ravenclaw'.

That Sunday had been one of those times. As her friends had headed out into the ground, she had hesitated before deciding that she could make better use of her time. So, with her peers teasing her as she went, she returned to the indoors and made her way to the library. There, she pulled a large book from the shelf before laying out everything that she would need for the Transfiguration essay that was due a week and a half later. She spent an hour, sifting through the pages and making sure that she had everything that she needed before she began to write. So far, she had noticed very few people enter the large room, as it was the weekend and very few people used that time to actually study. So, when she heard the door open, she glanced up briefly, offered a brief smile to her housemate, before returning her gaze to the words that she was writing.

Three years and no one but the books to talk to. Nothing ever changed. Vincent wasn't the most sociable person on the planet, but it never bothered him. He did the same as he did every day: claimed a chair and went searching the shelves. Today was a day off; all assignments were completed, leaving him the freedom to roam the shelves for something he was genuinely interested in.

Hardly anyone was in the library, as per usual, so he set down his belongings at a free table. In doing so, he passed a familiar girl, trademark blonde hair broadcasting Malfoy to the world. He'd encountered her in the common room before, but had never spoken to her. Vincent figured this time wouldn't be any different.

However, one thing about her caught his eye this time. No matter how brief, no matter how tactically polite, she had given him a smile, and he had no idea what to do with it.

"Mind your own business," he mumbled to himself, and continued on past her. After he sat down though, pile of books waiting eagerly before him, he found his mind wandering away from Flesh Eating Trees of the World and in a more unusual direction. This was why he didn't like people.

Antares couldn’t say that Transfiguration was her favourite class, not by a long shot. She enjoyed things like History of Magic or Potions. In one, you need only read a book and you would have your answer. In the other, the most complicated thing was following instructions. In the more practical classes, it was impossible to measure out an amount of incantation, or find the ability to perform a wand movement in a book. Most disappointingly was not that she couldn’t perform a spell, however, but that she had not been paying enough attention to write down the exact requirements of the essay.

Letting out a sigh at the almost finished work, she tapped a fingernail on the tabletop before she quickly turned to face the direction that the boy had gone. He was in her year, so of course he was in her classes. She’d never paid enough attention to those outside of her group before, so she didn’t really notice things like that without actually thinking about it. Standing from her seat, she moved passed the shelved to where he was sitting, as she knew that the librarian would be livid if she called out. “Excuse me?” she asked quietly, “do you have any idea how long the essay on Draconifors is supposed to be?”

Although Vincent's attention had been on the Malfoy girl the entire time, he was still startled out of his forced focus on the book.

"The essay? It was... Two pages, I believe. I may be wrong. I wrote two pages, anyway. Honestly I don't know that the professor specified the length of this essay."

He frowned, wondering why it wasn't coming to him as easily as it usually did. He reasoned it was the shock of being approached by someone, given that it hadn't happened in what felt like and probably actually was months.

"Do you need help with it?" he offered.

Antares paused for a moment when she realised that her words had startled the boy. She suppressed a laugh, and instead raised an eyebrow. Although she didn’t remember, she thought that the boy’s answer seemed to be within the range of possibility, and considering she had already written just over three pages, she was sure that she had nothing to worry about. “You had better be right,” Antares said, before tacking on, “thank you.”

Glancing back toward her table, the blonde said, “I have almost finished it. If you wouldn’t mind reading it, though, that would be great. Saves me from asking someone else to later.”

"Of course," Vincent replied, taking the proffered papers. He scanned them for faults but, being that it was a Ravenclaw paper, he found very few, if any. Ravenclaw papers tended to be the most difficult to critique, given that they were a house of geniuses. They were followed closely by Slytherins, who were typically too proud to afford inaccuracy. After that were Hufflepuffs, who Vincent would dare say were simply average on the whole. The most difficult papers to look over definitely fell to Gryffindor house, since they were usually too confident in their capabilities to succeed academically without putting effort into it. There were always exceptions to each type, but the Malfoy girl evaded that role with ease.

Handing the sheets back to her, he asked, "What's your name, by the way?"

Antares watched as the boy read over her essay, slightly worried that there would be something wrong with it. Most of her friends were Slytherins, so she knew that while they would tell her about any big mistakes in her work, they wouldn't nitpick. Not because they didn't notice, but because of who she was. Ravenclaws tended to care less of her family, and more of how she actually worked, which was a good thing she supposed.

"So, was it alright?" she asked quietly, before replying, "My name is Antares. And yours?" She had to admit that she was surprised that he didn't know who she was, but she didn't say that out loud.

Antares Malfoy... he thought. Has a nice ring to it. Fancy name. I wonder what it means. Vincent snapped out of his reverie when he realized Antares was still standing there, waiting for an answer.

"Oh! Yes, it was perfectly fine. Only a few errors here and there, but overall it's a quality paper." He pointed to the areas that needed fixing and explained them accordingly. Grammatically, the paper was flawless; the only issues (being only three) were with word choice, all easily remedied. "And my name is Vincent Hapburn. It has been my pleasure to meet you." Once he introduced himself fully, he bowed, as his father had taught him to do. He had already made his first mistake by not introducing himself right off the bat, but he felt it was neatly covered up by this recent gesture, even if the timing was a little awkward. Hopefully it was; Malfoys were notorious for noticing things like that.

Antares considered asking the boy if there was something wrong with him, as he kept seeming to lose focus on the conversation. She kept her mouth closed on the matter, however, as he had done her a favour. Instead she focused on the few mistakes that he pointed out. “You’re right,’ she said with a small frown, before smiling again, “I’ll fix those up before I hand it in. Thank you.” Antares worked hard to ensure that her work was the best it could be, so she was glad for the response even if there was some critique.

Hapburn. It wasn’t a name that she recognised, and she recognised every wizarding family in the UK even if she could not name any of their members. After a few moments, she concluded that it was either not British, or not pureblood. Returning her attention to the boy, Vincent, she nodded and said, “nice to meet you, too.” A blonde eyebrow arched at the bow, something that was indeed a sign of good manners, but she noted that it was rather delayed. “You know,” she said with light tone and a smile, “you’re supposed to do that when you first meet someone.”

Caught. Vincent gave the girl a wry half smile. "I know... It slipped my mind. You were the one who started the conversation with an extended question, you know." Hopefully his subpar first impression wouldn't be the only thing about him she remembered; that would be terribly bad if his family were to encounter the Malfoys, especially in a large social setting. He would really need to work on that for the future.

Antares thought for a fleeting moment, before dropping to the seat across from him. “Ah, not to worry,” she said brightly, “not everyone can be expected to keep up with all of the pleasantries all of the time.” While seated, she lifted her back from her side into her lap to she could wave her wand over the essay before slipping into the correct folder. “I supposed you’re right. I’ll let you get away with it this time,” she teased, before glancing around the desk, noticing books, but not paper, “are you studying, or just reading in here? It’s a nice day outside, you know?”

Antares's sudden decision to join Vincent at the table took him a little by surprise. Her forwardness wasn't what surprised him; actually, he wasn't sure what had startled him so. It wasn't like socializing was terribly unusual, and he wasn't incapable of holding a conversation. He decided that it was because people never really liked sticking around, but the Malfoy girl did just that. His mother had always told him he made people feel like they weren't welcome, but he'd never taken full notice of it until now.

And what was with the teasing? Vincent's cheeks took on a very light shade of pink as Antares spoke. Perhaps she was naturally flirtatious. I mean come on, she's not actually flirting. Not that I care... It's just weird. Frankly, he couldn't tell if he was being honest with himself, about not caring. If he didn't care, he wouldn't be blushing. But he wasn't into girls. Not that he was into guys either, but he'd just never thought of people past their tactical purpose.

Then he realized he had left her, once again, waiting too long for an answer. "Reading... I finished the assignments that needed finishing, and I'm not really in the mood to study anymore right now." Looking out the window, he added "Yes I suppose it is nice out. Do you want to take a stroll, or study outside?"

If Antares was honest, she didn’t know why she had decided on sitting down. It wasn’t that she didn’t like talking to people, but this boy seemed rather different to her friends. Her friends were like her, and so they were easy enough to get along with, but not overly interesting. With the exception of Nicolette, of course. They were almost sisters for a reason. But with people who weren’t like her, she could lighten up a bit, and she supposed that was why she’d decided to sit.

It took her a few moments to realise that he was again seemingly lost in his own mind, and she wondered if he talked to people often. There had been a few times already in their short conversation that she’d needed to remind him to respond to her, or when he’d taken a while to do so. Not that she minded all too much, as she was used to being almost entirely ignored.

When he finally spoke, Antares nodded in understanding, know that she did the same herself some of the time. “Well, that was the last of mine,” she replied, “I’m not the biggest fan of Transfiguration- give me Potions any day.” The blonde blinked a moment before she glanced at the window, noting that the day was just as nice as it had been when she’d left her friends earlier. “A walk would be nice,” she said, standing up and swinging her bag over her shoulder, “are you bringing all of those books with you?”

Vincent looked at the pile. "No, I suppose that wouldn't be very practical." He replaced all but five of the books, and crammed the remaining ones in his bag. He slung the bag over his shoulder, and grimaced slightly at the weight. Each of those books had a purpose, however, and he was not putting any of them back. A smile indicated to Antares that he was ready to go, and he had a small inkling, probably just paranoia, that he was being judged to some degree. "You said you prefer Potions over Transfiguration. Do you not enjoy magic?"

Eying the pile of books on the table, she presumed that he wouldn’t even be able to fit them all in his bag. But he definitely gave it his best shot, and she raised an eyebrow as the handful of books left out of the bag. “Well then,” she said quietly, though she noticed the grimace and smiled. “You know, you’re a wizard, right?” she asked, “there is a spell for that.” Pulling out her wand, she thought for less than a few seconds before muttering a weightless spell on the bag. “It doesn’t last forever, but it’ll do for now,” she said, returning the smile which she took to mean that Vincent was ready to leave. As they headed toward the doors of the library, she chewed lightly on her lip in thought at his question. It was a good one, really, but she shook her head. “I love magic,” she said firmly, “I just prefer the more subtle arts, I think. Surely there is a subject you prefer more or less over the others?”

Vincent shrugged, although he did appreciate the lightness of the bag. "I'm not the biggest fan of magic. It feels like a cop out to me sometimes, to be honest. I don't exactly have a preferred class, as I like them all for the most part, but I do enjoy studying history and various languages. Theory appeals to me more than practical application. Everything is more beautiful in theory." That and I also can't seem to cast half of what we're supposed to, he grumbled in his head. It wasn't something anyone knew, and it wasn't about to become common knowledge anytime soon.

Antares frowned a little, surprised by Vincent’s words. “You’re not a fan of magic?” she asked, though surprising even to her, it was not an accusation. She was genuinely curious as to why anyone, especially a witch or wizard, would not adore magic and everything that it could do. “Theory is admitted my preferred part of the curriculum as well,” she said, “you can’t go wrong with it if you have half a brain. It’s almost always going to be the same. I think it’s why I like Potions so much. If you can read and pay attention, you’ll do alright.” The corridor outside of the library was mostly empty as they walked, presumably because many of the students were outside enjoying the sunshine. “My least favourite is Divination,” she admitted, pulling a small face, “really, the only time you’ll be legitimately good at it is if you are an actual seer. Foresight cannot truly be taught.”

Antares considered what he said about Divination, having honestly never thought of it that way herself. Perhaps he was right though. At least with students being examined, they would be able to figure out if there were any real seers in the class. “I’ve never seen the use in languages, though many of them are rather nice to listen to,” the Ravenclaw replied, “while Potions is at the least rather useful. There is a lot of different things that one could do with a potion, and they’re so subtle.” Knowing that she probably sounded like the NEWTs brochure that the fifth years were given, she shook her head to refocus her attention. “Magic is all I know,” Antares admitted softly, “there are a lot of things that I do with magic, or with the magic other others’, that I would never know how to do without it.” Pulling a face that was one part disgust and three parts curiosity, she asked, “you’ve read muggle stories, then?”

"Never seen the use in languages?" Vincent was rather taken aback. "How do you expect to travel if you can't speak to the people? Language is everything! It's just as useful as a potion, I promise you. But it also takes more dedication, so most lack the patience for learning a new one. Language is an art; it needs to be practiced and well-loved.

"As for Muggle stories, I've only read them because I personally went in search of them. Things are kind of complicated with my family. My father's line was thought to be pureblood, but it turned out recently, thanks to research, that there was one Muggle who tainted the line a long, long time ago. And I don't mean tainted as a derogatory term. I mean it in the way of change. But everyone since then has been a witch or wizard, hence the pureblood fantasy. Until my father was born. He has no magic whatsoever. He was married to my mother, of a pureblood family from Germany, and they had me and my siblings. All three of us love fantasies, but eventually we exhausted the ones wizards tell their children, so I hunted down some Muggle stories. That ended up being much more of a story than I'd anticipated. Ah well."

"I don't expect to be travelling at all, really," Antares said with a shrug, "it's not really something people do a lot during times like these." Although she had spent almost all of her life getting pretty much anything she wanted, she had also spent it in one place. Her Uncle would take them to Italy or France on occasion during the holidays, but outside of that she hadn't been anywhere, and had little intention of doing so. "What languages do you know?" she asked curiously.

Antares listened as Vincent explained his family to her, and she had to agree that it seemed a little complicated. But it also explained why she hadn't recognised his surname. "It's alright," she answered, not minding at all that he had spoken so much, "so the Muggle stories were good?" She knew that Muggles could create some really interesting things, but for some reason she did not expect for them to be very good at something that required creativity. "I can't imagine what would happen if I brought home a Muggle book. Or a Muggle anything, in all honesty."

Vincent sighed and looked up in thought. "Let's see... I can speak English and German, of course, as well as Russian, Spanish, and French. It took a long time, but I've been studying them since I was a child. I'm working on Japanese right now." He nodded, satisfied with his explanation.

"I suspect most wizarding parents wouldn't be too keen on their child having anything to do with Muggles, especially nowadays. It's almost a surefire way to get at least killed. My parents were always really relaxed about it though, as long as we didn't make a big fuss about it to our peers." His mother had always been big on not ostracizing the family any more than it already was, due to his father's peculiar nature. However, both of his parents had always encouraged the expansion of their views and the search for knowledge, so they were always enthusiastic when one of the children asked to visit the Muggle libraries. Vincent realized then that he'd never told anyone about his parents before. Not because it would have lost him friends, obviously, but because he didn't want to give people a reason to look down on his family. "Please don't tell anyone about my family. It's not a huge deal, but I don't want anyone to start trouble with my parents. They already have enough to deal with as it is."

Antares' eyes widened, wondering how he had managed to learn so many. Languages were not like simple pieces of information, able to be withheld without much thought. "Did you teach yourself?" she asked.

"Yes. A lot of things can be considered dangerous these days," Antares agreed, knowing that she would probably get into trouble for just talking about Muggles without disdain like she was. It wasn't that she didn't agree with the cause, but she was hesitant to believe that people should die for it. "Of course not," she said, quickly, "I'm not the type to talk about people to others, anyway." Though she did talk about almost anything with her best friend, she already knew better than to tell anyone that she was readily and knowingly having a conversation with someone who was not only not pureblood, and also some of the conversation had been about about Muggles.

"I learned German and English in school and from my parents, since those are the regions I've lived in, but the rest were self-taught, yes," Vincent explained. Language and writing were the only things he could unashamedly brag about. Not that he was arrogant in any way, but he wasn't proud of himself for much else.

He smiled at Antares's reassurance. He was quite happy that he'd found someone to discuss things like this openly with. Trusting her with his deepest darkest secrets wasn't on the table yet, but Antares seemed like the kind of person that, one day, might be endowed with the secrets of many. Vincent wouldn't be afraid if his secrets were some of those. For now, though, it was a simple relief to talk to someone about Muggle things without being attacked or harassed as a result.

“I see,” she said, thinking of how she could have learnt Italian from her Uncle if she had ever made enough attention. But she hadn’t, and had always made him translate anything that he said that wasn’t an ordinary phrase. Perhaps she would have enjoyed it, but she’d spent more of her time learning to fight in a war that she was even around to start, and after she started school she hadn’t even thought about it. Shaking herself out of her thoughts, she glanced over at Vincent and grinned. “Say something in another language?”

Antares eyed the boy, wondering what he was thinking, but she didn’t ask. If there was one thing she had learned, it would be that someone would say something eventually if they wanted to. She was curious about something though, so she smiled and asked, “so, were you frozen?”