[Library] Dusting Out The History Section [Shab]

[Shabnam Snapdragon]

The room melted away in a grey-green fog, her hands, arms, legs and torso becoming strangely numb before detaching themselves from her body entirely. She gasped, realising she was merely a pair of bright, glazed eyes floating in a towering maze of twisted, gnarly jungle, the cries of birds and other animals (was that music..?) shrieking all around her, the Slytherins and the - the thing - regarding one another.

It's gaze then snapped upon her and she tried to jump back, unable to without a body.

A wink. Find me.

But where?! Shabnam mouthed, her non-existent brow creased in a distressed frown. The creature was beyond sinister with his deep dark eyes and towering, monstrous figure, yet at the same time his devilishness seemed impish, mischivious... and there was something about him - aside from his appearance - that told Shabnam he was unlike anything she had encountered before. A magical creature was always different, but he was something else entirely.

'But I can't find things on my own!' She called out, a split second later her limbs returning, the meadow once again a fishbowl, the heavy sunlight streaming through the shutters, blinding her. Rubbing her eyes frantically she spun round looking at Warren.

He hadn't moved an inch since a moment ago, his face a mask of nonchalance. He was completely disaffected.

[Offley Marsh]

Offley was in a back room searching through the old bits of parchment and library records, the last librarian had left the place in a right state and some students seemed to owe a lot of gallons. Rubbing her itchy nose she stood up and was about to start to look through the next pile when she heard a shout from the main section of the library.

'But I can't find things on my own!’

A student needed help it was her duty to aid them. Tucking the bits of lose hair behind her ear Offley stood up and rushed down the side aisles to see Shabnam standing by her desk, looking rather pale. A pale student in the library was not strange but from the occasions she had met this Hufflepuff before she was always very cheerful and colour. With a small smile Offley walked over towards the girl keeping direct eye contact.

“It sounded like you need some help duck. Can I help or was it statement showing your own personal frustration with your possible incompetence?”

Offley tilted her head to the side while looking at the girl waiting for her answer. This girl had always came across as strange to Offley, but saying that many people called her that when she was at school and it never did her any harm.

[Warren Frell]

Warren stared at the fishbowl that the girl seemed immersed with, his eyes following the blue creatures intently. A few minutes passed where there was silence, and Warren wrinkled his nose, trying to see what it was that intrigued her.

Giving up, he crossed his arms over his chest moodily and waited for the girl to snap back to reality.

Or, at least snap out of her reverie. He wasn't too sure she was ever really fully aware of what was going on in reality.

It was then she called out suddenly, and Warren jerked his head sharply in surprise. Looking nervous at her shout, he cast a quick glance around the library to calculate how many people must of heard. "I-- I already said I'd help you find them, didn't I?"

Though, the fish caught his eye again and he raised a brow, standing on his toes to peer inside. "Hold on! Look!" Pulling back the sleeves of his robes, he reached an arm inside the bowl, one of his eyes squinted as he waved it around in the water.

Gripping his fingers onto something, he pulled it out with glee. One of the fish seemed to be particularly attached to the object, and was hanging off it stubbornly, though Warren hadn't noticed.

"Look! It's the Catfish!"

Of course, the attention of several students had been captured and they were all staring at the odd pair rather curiously. In fact, even the librarian had joined them, which Warren had failed to notice earlier and he grimaced when he realised he had sprayed a generous amount of water onto her robes.

Finally, after a long, awkward moment of silence, a member of the newly acquired audience finally spoke out.

"...That's not a catfish."

Frowning, Warren looked back at the card and flushed when he noticed the fish hanging off the edge. With his ears a violent shade of red, he scowled and stared at the speaker haughtily.

"I meant the card," He said in a dull voice, looking at his former companion weakly.