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Post by quinn bernard grey on Oct 6, 2010 19:10:14 GMT -5
MR. Q. B. GREY___________
Quinn was in the library. Yes, Quinn. In the library. Someone somewhere was dividing by zero. Or so it would have been if he had had any choice in the matter. As it stood, there was good reason for the Slytherin – usually so averse to being in any kind of proximity to the book repository – being there, and it wasn’t to partake of the services offered. Instead, he was making a nuisance of himself; or rather Zephyr was making a nuisance of himself. The ferret had managed to escape from Quinn’s eagle-eyes for a second and taken it upon himself to go on an adventure around the castle; having been free of supervision for the best part of an hour now, he seemed to have settled himself within the confines of the library (determined, thanks to a neat little bit of wandwork, now dubbed the “ferret compass”.)
He crawled under one of the tables, although the charm told him the general vicinity of the mustelid it could not pinpoint his exact location, a small pile of chocolate buttons clasped lightly in one hand – a treat for the elusive Zephyr should he choose to return of his own accord, or perhaps to tempt him back from whatever it was that had captured his attention in the first place. Quinn swore under his breath as he hit his head off of the underside of the table, muttering continually as he emerged a moment later and scowled around at the shelves and assembled chairs. A younger student caught his gaze, eyes wide and unblinking with hand frozen mid word over her essay, “Doyouwantmetohelpormaybejustgoor, or, or..?” she blurted. Quinn raised an eyebrow quizzically at this, wondering exactly what his expression was to illicit such a reaction – of course, he supposed reputation was a factor – a smirk replacing whatever it had been. “No, you just carry on with your, uh,” he leant across to glance at her paper, a nervous sound between a giggle and a whimper escaping from the girl; his eyes met with loopy writing and light red ink, drawing a sneer to his lips and cutting his sentence off.
Shaking his head, he continued on his quest, leaving the girl in bemused temper. He ran his fingers along the books on a shelf, the thrumming rhythm loud in the large and silent room and drawing disdainful looks – only increasing when he exhaled a loud, annoyed sigh and scuffing of his feet along the threadbare rug. “Where are you y’daft rat-bastard...” he muttered to himself, swinging around and planting his back against the bookcase, examining the somewhat less-solid chocolate in his grasp. He cast his gaze around again and tapped his foot in aggravation, depositing the chocolate and briskly taking himself over to the window through which the afternoon’s sun was trying to stream (not managing entirely well, the panes dull with the dust of the thousands of old books).
He scowled to himself again, focussed on (yet staring beyond) a small trail of students marching from whatever class they had been down towards the edge of the forest where the Care of Magical Creatures paddock was, thinking over how much easier this would be with more hands and eyes in on the search. Yet in contrast to this he was somewhat proud of the fact that it was only he who was searching (the Ravenclaw who had provided him with the necessary adjustments to the Four Point charm didn’t count in his eyes), that he had managed to keep a hold of that reputation that he had set out to install from almost the moment he had arrived on the train for the very first time. A smirk crawled up to the corners of his lips, shifting his weight to the opposite foot, attentions lost to thoughts of how exactly his reputation had been maintained.
STATUS:: done.
WORDS:: six-four-three.
NOTES:: bleh, sorry i took so long and the premise isn't all that great. =/
TAGGS:: ms. a. r. abercrombie. |
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