8:08 a.m.
after breakfast



Outside the librarian’s office, Theo straightened as Ji-Hyun approached, a smile– a real, blinding one, the first one of its kind for the day– brightening his features like a hint of sun. It was for her presence, because they (or at least, Theo; had he told them she’d be joining them? Ah well-) had been waiting for her, rather than the sight of her, though for the boy the items weren’t mutually exclusive. “Good morning,” he beamed, drawing close. “That’s all of us, then,” and he glanced at the others for confirmation, gaze expectant.

The night before, once classes were done and over with, they had all gathered in the common room, whether because they already been there or had been summoned there by way of a first year. Blackwell, Dimbleby, Slant… All had been party to a rather grievous spectacle in some way, and within moments it had progressed to extent where it became apparent something had to be done—that one by one Theo had asked them, privately, if they would be interesting in accompanying him in seeing the Head. Clearly waiting for Kesali to burn himself out wouldn’t bear the result they were all hoping for. Instead, people had gotten needlessly hurt in their passivity.

Gracie shot him a neutral look, one that was only slightly wary through the sleepiness of it, and for once he merely returned it blankly, rather than with the taunt he usually did. She could have turned him down, when he had asked her to accompany them; she’d been one of the first to leave when Kesali had dismissed them, neither receiving a detention nor an injury from the rope, and it was hardly a secret that she didn’t like him much. But she hadn’t, even if it was only because half of the injured count were her friends. Theo… appreciated it.

Whatever the reason, her participation would only help. Their complaint was valid even without it, but he rather liked optimizing potential advantages. And her presence certainly presented one. Had he known that the Charms professor had visited Morgan last night…

Actually, no. Theo still would have seen to it that they came to the library the following morning, as they were doing now. A night’s rest – as well as a chance to go over their accounts – had been necessary; this way, they could approach their Head of House with clearer heads.

Heading their group, Theo was the first to near the door. He rapped it twice, brisk but undemanding, “sir? It’s Whitman,” and politely waited for permission to push open the door– at first wide enough to let himself through, and then enough to let the others file in, hand still curled around the door handle as he held it open. Looking at Landis, the boy’s gaze was direct and solemn, even through the slight, respectful bow of his head. “We apologize for taking up your time…”

Early morning. Breakfast had just ended. Landis did not expect any student who had classes to be in the library, and any student who didn't to even be awake. The knock didn't startle him, but it was unexpected.
 
"Unnecessary," he said, referring to Theo's apology as the students filed in. Whether he meant because he was as their Head always available or that their presence in his office was inevitable was unclear.

The students were all his, save one - a Hufflepuff judging by the uniform colors. Interesting. Landis arched a brow at her, awaiting the anticipated explanation of her identity and her presence. He suspected, of course, the reason they'd brought her. He would have summoned the lot himself later that day; they merely beat him to it. But he had to note (and perhaps admire) that they had brought with them another witness, an advantage they would have been without should they have waited for his summons. Slytherins. They thought like he did. As if he could ever be the Head for any other House.

Other than his semi-invitation, he didn't speak. Landis only looked at all of them lined up before him as he sat at his desk, expression dispassionate but not distant. He had stopped writing for them when Whitman knocked and now he laid down the quill, no clearer indication that he was listening and they should begin. If he had summoned them, he would have started the conversation. But they had come to him. How they began would reveal their motivations for doing so, and they might say more if he did not first declare why he expected them to be there.

A quick, slight twitch of the lips– nothing overt, hardly even a smile– but it was genuine nonetheless, and pleased. To the point then, it seemed. Gracefully Theo dipped his head even lower– albeit slightly (so as not to seem groveling) –and straightened, letting the door softly click shut after the last of them filed in.

He definitely didn’t smile then, when a discreet shuffle brought Ji-Hyun closer to his side. nor did he move away It wouldn’t do to appear smug, even unintentionally.

Theo glanced at the others, the look lingering on each of them just long enough to ascertain that he would be the one answering. “It’s Professor Kesali, sir,” he said, meeting Landis’ eyes again. “Yesterday, during class, students were injured and he…” He paused– not out of hesitation, but care; so as long as the topic was another teacher, he would have to be careful with his words. No matter how apt they would have been.

“He was more interested in haranguing us instead,” he continued evenly, expression carefully neutral. “He goaded one student into a confrontation. And as some of us tried to deal with the injuries, he shared with us how…difficult-” His expression flickered minutely, “-his life was. How tired he was running after us-” Whoever– however– imaginary those few were, “tending to our hurts and needs. He made it clear in no uncertain terms that our…”

“-ingratitude-”

“-ingratitude, thank you, Slant– toward his efforts, confuse him, and proceeded to blame his inability to interact with us appropriately on ourselves. For all that he calls us children.” Theo blinked. “And ‘omegas’.” The word was given special consideration, as he would a dead rat– carefully and curiously.

Somewhere down the line, the quidditch captain snorted. It was a soft sound, but it spoke volumes. Though he didn’t see it, she looked away– turned that stony expression of hers onto the ceiling, as though to bore holes in it. She didn’t possess quite the same amount of control over her own facial expressions as Theo did, and her feelings made themselves known as they bled into a stiff posture and agitated shifting.

Blank-faced as ever, the prefect himself lowered his eyes. “We were only free to see the healer after he dismissed us, by which then some of us had suffered quite a bit-” He glanced at Jordyn, “-or had our injury already tended to.”

Then he deigned Ji-Hyun a look. It wasn’t quite a smile, but it was hardly unfriendly, either.

And then it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, for the story got even better.

“Bran felt moved to denounce the class, at which then Professor Kesali took points.” Theo lifted a shoulder in a half-shrug—acceptance. It hardly came as a surprise, especially when one took into account his housemate’s blatant disparagement and the man’s mental state at the time. “I myself inquired about the logic of his actions… and taunted him with a previous engagement, when he gave me detention,” and he hung his head, the slight smile that made itself visible this time, wry and mirthless, almost self-deprecating. “I admit it wasn’t a wise move on my part,” he murmured, smiling ruefully at his feet. “It became rather obvious when he threatened my badge.”

And then likened him to a spoiled brat. At this, Theo had been more surprised than offended, because he so often forgot he had parents; they were shadowy, almost faceless figures in his life—sources of unbidden gifts and adulation when they were present, but little else. Whatever childish resentment he had harbored against them for their self-absorption, he had outgrown years ago.

The trite insult had been more amusing than insulting, if only because it further proved how poorly the man understood his students. One might even surmise that he had been projecting…

Not that Theo would put it past him. After all, his feelings were all over the place.

Gale’s threat was of little importance, however – particularly in the larger scheme of things – and so the prefect moved on, straightening from the almost contrite posture he had been assuming since the admission. Though the slight bow of his head remained respectful, there was a steely look in his eye, albeit one carefully tempered by that respect. “Despite his words, he showed a remarkable lack of concern for our welfare. Several times he disregarded the injuries, belittling them when they were, in fact, rather serious,” he said quietly, “and for all that he made no move to take a proper look for himself.”

His eyes remaining fixed on Landis, Theo turned his head slightly, to the girls.

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