It was a great day for studying, as Beatrix would say. No one would agree with that statement, but no one has heard those words uttered. Everyone was out enjoying the nice weather, while Beatrix sat in the library and read about how to make a potion that she would probably never need. Beatrix doodled on the notebook next to her, completely unaware of what she was doing and almost tansfixed on the book.

With a quick huff of realization, Beatrix looked up from the book and looked around the empty library. "How lonely," she thought, stretching a bit, "Doesn't anybody read anymore?" And with that, two girls passed through to the exit, but stopped to look at Bea sitting at a desk, her face being held up by her hand. They gave her an odd look, then quickly left.

"What a weirdo. She's always in here... Reading about weird potions." She heard one whisper on the way out,

"I know... It's like she has no friends." the other giggled a bit.

The footsteps softened and soon disapeared as they went down the corridor, laughing it up. Beatrix rolled her eyes and sighed. Maybe she should try to get out a little more... Make some friends... Instead of just sitting in the library and reading about dumb little potions. Beatrix immediately shouldered that thought off; potions aren't dumb, they're highly logical. She then closed her books and shook her head.

"I don't need friends," She mumbled to herself and stood up, "They're swine for thinking such... Awful things about me... How dare they!" Beatrix had stuffed the books back into the shelf and stomped her foot on the ground. Beatrix didn't want to admit it, but what those girls said had really taken a chunk out of her self-esteem. She grabbed another book for History of Magic, since she never pays attention in class. The mind-numbing facts could take her mind off things. Plus, she definitly needed to study if she wanted to pass her exam.

Within a few minutes, Beatrix had slammed her head onto the open book and moaned in displeasure. "WHY ARE YOU SO BORING!?" her muffled voice yelled at the text, "I don't care about you!" she then picked her head back up and looked around the library, making sure that nobody had seen her yelling at a inanimate object. When realizing no one saw her, she flung the book off the desk with a swift move of her hand. Beatrix grumbled and stared off into space for a couple of seconds, but then sighed and got up. That was no way to treat a book. Beatrix bent down grabbed the heavy hard-back and went back to her desk.

Despite the nice weather, Waker couldn't bring herself to go anywhere near her favorite tree. It had been a week since the horrible accident, and George was almost fully recovered, with the exception of a few subtle and lingering burns, but the Ravenclaw still became tense whenever she stepped onto the grounds, particularly near the forest or lake. Only the pitch was manageable, but it was usually occupied by quidditch players and amateur fliers alike, soaking up the rare end-of-term sunshine.

Taking her mind off of what had happened, off of Jasper, and off of George was especially difficult, even while voluntarily barricaded in the castle under a mountain of books... as she happened to be right now. Waker closed her eyes for a long moment and opened them again, focusing on the painstakingly-straightened bindings whose titles were stacked one on top of the next, in columns of six. It was ridiculous, but it calmed her.

Over the brim of one stack, she saw two girls walking away and giggling. She traced their attention easily to a blonde housemate at the table beside her own-- no one but Beatrix Dark had that exact shade of hair, and so Waker had never forgotten her name. Add to it the younger girl's penchant for the library, and even their age difference didn't prohibit the sixth year from regularly recognizing her fellow Ravenclaw.

Waker rolled her eyes at the retreating gossip-mongers, but couldn't help lingering on the Dark girl for a moment. It took her mind off of everything else going on her life, and it also gave Waker a much-needed break from her demanding affair with textbooks.

The sixth year was a bit startled to see the other girl begin muttering, though, admittedly, she was guilty of doing the same on more than one occasion-- trophies, anyone?-- but Waker was too far away, and Beatrix spoke too low for the older girl to decipher any of it. And so, even before the fourth year retreated to the shelves to exchange books, Waker turned back to her own homework.

She tried very earnestly to get back to work, which was usually no challenge at all, but she had barely unleashed her quill on the first draft of a conclusion for her Transfiguration essay, when a weird sort of thump assaulted her ears. She looked up again, her eyes flying automatically to Beatrix... who was lifting a book from the ground. Waker knitted her brows and almost grimaced.

"Did you throw that?" She couldn't help sounding slightly scandalized. Even if books weren't quite as precious since that afternoon when one particularly attractive one had (more or less) assisted in the attempted murder of George Carter.

Realizing she probably sounded too harsh, Waker softened her expression. She couldn't really blame the girl for being fed up with school and the people in it right now. Even Waker was desperately craving the summer holidays. And those little blockheads who had just exited the library giggling couldn't have made it any more pleasant of an experience for Beatrix, surely. The fourth year seemed to be regularly devoted to her studies, and Waker appreciated it.

"Are you studying for exams?" She asked cautiously, letting her shoulders relax just a little as she dropped her wrist and quill atop her parchment.

With a small sigh, Beatrix opened the History book, reluctantly, and tried reading again. If she didn't pass this exam, Beatrix didn't know what she'd possibly do. Kill herself, maybe. Beatrix's shoulders shook in a small giggle she held back. "That's not funny." She whispered, smiling to herself.

"Did you throw that?"

Beatrix had a shiver go down her spine and she straightened up in her chair. She didn't think anyone saw her; her mind must of been still on History when she looked around. She looked back to immediately spot Waker Nolan with quite the grimace on her face. Bea's eye twitched in a small I-Don't-Know-What-To-Think-Of-This way and she thought of a reason why she'd possibly throw that book.

"N- No." Bea began, shaking her head, "I sort of... Slapped it... Is all." She blushed a bit and shrugged, "I don't... Like those girls... I didn't mean to slap the book..."

She watched as Waker's face softened, though hers stayed stiff with embarrassment and confusion. It wasn't everyday that she saw Waker, but Beatrix really thought she was a good rolemodel for her. Since Beatrix wasn't the most well-minded person, she needed someone to look up to. Waker just so happened to fit the right description, no matter how creepy that sounds. Beatrix had never really talked to her before... It was mainly because she didn't really talk much to anyone outside of her classes besides Joshua and Megan. That was because she thinks reading about charms that are too high-leveled for her, rather than socialize with the rest of the world, is a better use of time.

"Are you studying for exams?" She asked cautiously, letting her shoulders relax just a little as she dropped her wrist and quill atop her parchment.

Beatrix nodded slightly, looking a bit more confused than before, "Yeah. I'm studying History... Since I thought it would be fun to hurt myself in a harmful way." she mumbled the last part, looking away and curling the end of one of her chopped locks with her fingers. Her eyes flickered right back to Waker, cautiously. Did she hear that last part? That'd be embarrassing if she did.

"Are you studying? For exams, I mean..." Beatrix asked, politely enough. Her voice sounded a little excited, but still rather embarrassed. She couldn't help but mumble strange things to herself... Infront of people she knew.

"N- No. I sort of... Slapped it... Is all. I don't... Like those girls... I didn't mean to slap the book..."

It was an awkward situation, to say the least. Waker studied the girl's face for another moment, her own relaxing into practiced nonchalance, and she nodded twice, finally looking down. The parchment she was usually so ready to entertain seemed to annoy her now. She looked back up at Beatrix, focusing on the book she'd discarded and collected again. She understood, in some weird way.

"It's alright..." She spoke slowly, quietly despite their distance. The library was nearly empty at this hour, and quiet enough that they didn't have to yell-- not that Waker would, particularly given her persistent desire to please the librarian. "I understand," she admitted. There was almost a choking hint of humor in her tone; that was how much she did understand.

As a rule, she disapproved of vandalizing school property, but this hardly counted. The book seemed undamaged, and the girl mildly tempered.

"It's better than slapping them, isn't it?" She asked jokingly, thinking back to an occasion when she'd slapped the person with whom she'd arguably once been closest. It still shocked her that she'd done it. She'd made her point, definitely, but taking out her anger on a textbook would have been more graceful than lashing out at Devlin.

The girl's discomfort seemed to linger, and Waker sorely regretted confronting her. It was a talent, almost, this new ability to inspire uncomfortable situations. She hated watching other people squirm. It made her feel the same inside.

"Yeah. I'm studying History... Since I thought it would be fun to hurt myself in a harmful way."

History was one of Waker's better subjects; while she hadn't received an O for the History of Magic O.W.L., she'd been awarded the next best thing, and certainly planned to have full marks in the subject for her N.E.W.T. She regularly tutored people in History, and found that it was very easy to discuss in class-- much more so than her personal life. When the two mingled, however, like during the Remembering Day unit, things tended to get sticky.

"I enjoyed fourth year History," she confided casually, trying to be friendly so as to dissolve the embarrassment in the younger girl's expression. "Are you reviewing the Centaur Peace Act now, or are you--" She paused, blinking. Harmful? Fun? Harmful fun? What? "I'm sorry?" She had to be joking, Waker thought. The sixth year had had enough of people being injured, physically and emotionally, in the past month or so to last her a lifetime. The idea of someone self-inflicting pain for fun was awful. But she supposed if she couldn't laugh it off...

"History can be intense, but clearly no Goblin Rebellion is worth slitting your wrists. You have a whole year before you should dream of jumping off bridges." She made a joke of it, even while trying to discourage such thoughts. It was too heavy a topic to deal with lately. Waker recalled that O.W.L. preparation had made it fleetingly tempting to run into a wall or let the lake have her soul, but she would never really consider anything of the sort. And she'd spent ages readying herself for those tests.

"Are you studying? For exams, I mean..."

Waker was privately a little amused now. There was something humorous in the girl's tone, but it was inviting and implied a similar affection for studying which the Nolan girl had been almost programmed to possess. Beatrix wasn't some random library loafer trying to distract Waker (though there were a handful of these brilliant procrastinators whom the sixth year would admittedly let slide out of nepotism. Something that began and ended with a pair of twins.)

"Writing a Transfiguration essay, actually," she revealed, smirking a little. "But it should help for the final. Next year will be the Judgement, though. N.E.W.T.'s..." She trailed off for a moment, resisting the urge to wrinkle her nose. The impending exams, the collective deciding factor of her future, repulsed her as much as they attracted her. She lived by and around their existence all too often. "What do you think, should Animagi be allowed to travel across borders in their transfigured forms, or should they be bound to intercontinental law and have to present themselves as humans each time they travel?" She looked down at her paper once more, after musing aloud. Current events in the legalities of animal morphing. Riveting.

Beatrix got a bit more comfortable and adjusted herself in her chair. She smoothed her skirt and cleared her throat, only to get that dry, hollow feeling afterwords. Her facial expression relaxed a bit, but her eyes darted in catiousness as Waker began to speak.

"It's alright..."

"I understand,"

She was a little puzzled at that. Beatrix had expected the sixth year to tell her how there was no excuse to harm an innocent book and then get a wag of a finger. She was ust to getting into trouble for little deeds all the time, and she found it rather hilarious. Even if Waker was an inspiration to Beatrix, she would in no way stop herself from laughing at her attempt. Then again, she didn't attempt anything. So she quickly discarded the thought and nodded, casually.

But the last bit made Bea twitch, 'I understand'. It sounded to Bea that she didn't quite understand, and probably shouldn't judge her in secrecy. But Beatrix, being polite, said nothing. Only revealing her thoughts in a small facial twitch of disappointment.

"Right," Beatrix bit her lip, "Thanks for... Understanding."

"It's better than slapping them, isn't it?"

"I suppose..." She began, "I wouldn't want to hurt anybody." she nodded and grinned, widely, at Waker. She appriecated that no matter how strange Bea acted, Waker was actually still making conversation and joking with her. It lightened her spirits quite a bit since the two girls laughing at her. She really would like to slap their sorry buttox's for even considering they were better than her.

"I enjoyed fourth year History,"

"That makes one of us." Bea murmured to herself, jokingly.

"Are you reviewing the Centaur Peace Act now, or are you--" Bea stuck her hands between her knees and looked at Waker, confused, "I'm sorry?"

Beatrix then realized that Waker had heard her small, little, dark-humored joke. Before Bea could explain, Waker had already began talking.

"History can be intense, but clearly no Goblin Rebellion is worth slitting your wrists. You have a whole year before you should dream of jumping off bridges."

Beatrix gave a small, innocent smirk and shrugged, "It was, you know... A joke. Since I don't like History all too much... Love the Professor, though. Greyfriar is always so nice to everyone." she then scratched her head and added, quickly, "And yes, that's what we're doing in History. The Centaur Peace Act."

Beatrix had actually been known not to like History. When she actually studies, she does fine, but it's when she's in class she doesn't pay attention at all. Instead, she doodles on her papers and fights off the temptation to use the class as a napping period. She respects Professor Greyfriar a whole lot and knows not to sleep, but sometimes can't help it. It's the only class that she had ever wanted to be over before the end of the period. Everyone has their weaknesses. The only time Beatrix had ever payed attention was when they were learning about some small battle where some dark wizard accidently killed himself and ended a whole war. It made her laugh at how strange the wizard world can be.

"Writing a Transfiguration essay, actually,"

Beatrix smiled in delight. She did, however, love Transfiguration.

"But it should help for the final. Next year will be the Judgement, though. N.E.W.T.'s..."

"Ooh. Right. Sorry to hear." Beatrix nodded, sadly, she didn't want her seventh year to come, and that was one of the reasons.

"What do you think, should Animagi be allowed to travel across borders in their transfigured forms, or should they be bound to intercontinental law and have to present themselves as humans each time they travel?"

Beatrix thought about it for about a minute. It wasn't exactly hard. In fact, that was quite easy compared to History. She bit her lip and slunk down a bit, thinking exactly of her answer before she said, "No. I don't think so." she was fairly good at giving her opinions about such questions, and had always gotten good grades for them in the past. "Why would they need to do that? What if they're running from someone who doesn't know they're Animagi? And what if they're not aloud in that country? They can just slip right through a muggles hands since they're not that smart to know. Bloody hell, that's a good essay. I wish I had that." Beatrix smiled, brightly, and bounced up and down in her seat.

"Right. Thanks for... Understanding."

Waker almost raised a brow at this. If she weren't so intent on keeping very personal things to herself, she might have brought up her own act of rebellion involving a book, a rubbish bin, and a Waker-made fire in the girl's lavatory. But then, it had been her own diary, and not a piece of school property she'd tried to burn. She merely offered a subtle, tight-lipped smile at the girl's strange intonation and expression.

"I suppose... I wouldn't want to hurt anybody."

"No, of course not." The smile that accompanied the girl's words was more comforting. Waker found herself reflecting it, her own small grin turning into a looser, more obvious and sincere one. It wasn't everyday she could share the experience of wanting to seek revenge, however subtle, on certain library offenders. It took a certain sort of... fellow bibliophilic soul... to convey the desire. "You wouldn't want to lose any points for Ravenclaw." Or, you know, hurt someone, as Beatrix had already pointed out. Ahem.

"That makes one of us."

"It was, you know... A joke. Since I don't like History all too much... Love the Professor, though. Greyfriar is always so nice to everyone."

Why hadn't Waker spoken with this girl before? She liked this sort of humor; subtly sarcastic and possibly a touch biting at times, but still friendly. "He is great, isn't he?" Greyfriar was always fair. Almost too fair, sometimes. She back to a week ago in the infirmary, when he easily could have expelled both Waker and Jasper for their use of a very dangerous and unknown spell. Instead, he'd been a comfort, and he'd allowed them to help bring George back to consciousness. She didn't know how she could thank him. "I think sometimes you just have to find the part that really interests you," she admitted. "Centaur politics aren't for everyone." She talked to others who had similar trouble; not because they weren't intelligent or didn't want to learn... Beatrix was clearly a bright girl, and a good student. It was just a sense of disconnect. "Did you present during Remembering Day?" She didn't usually ask so many questions, not when she was supposed to be studying, but Waker wasn't in the mood for essays today, not really.

Judging by her expression, the girl seemed keener on Transfiguration.

"Ooh. Right. Sorry to hear."

Waker laughed quietly for a moment, and couldn't help feeling comforted. "But... I suppose if some of the people they last pass last year made it, though, I'll possibly survive," she admitted, smirking a little. She listened to the girl's analysis of the Transfiguration topic and tilted her head a bit. It was a logical argument. "I agree. They've probably spent enough time tangled up in the law just attaining their licenses. Anyone who is a legal Anigamus is bound to be fairly law-abiding. If they're running away from someone and ignoring borders, it's for good cause." She nodded, and scanned an outline of notes from class before looking back up at Beatrix. She had to feel a touch of sympathy; sixth year was definitely more interesting, in terms of subject matter... but it was also more of a challenge. Which was expected. "I'm sure you'll have so many new topics next year, you'll be running back to whatever it is you're doing in Transfiguration right now," she promised, a small hint of humor still lingering. "But no, really, it is quite fascinating... for the people who pay attention, anyway." Her own class was in no short supply of slackers and slumbering students.

Beatrix nodded, softly, at Waker's words. She didn't want to cost Ravenclaw any points, though the causing pain thing had a bit of a wanting feeling towards it. But, Beatrix's violence was now in the past and she needed to stay put and be a good girl. Bea hadn't really done anything physically hurtful in a very long time. The last she could remember was that she had punched a Hufflepuff girl in the face for yapping her big mouth nonstop. No teachers were around, thankfully, so that just made it even more salty-sweet after the deed was done. The Hufflepuff girl didn't ever really speak again after that. It was a fair deal, since Bea had asked, politely, for her to keep quiet before. Bea snapped out of her daze from her remembrance of last Thursday and grinned at Waker.

"He is great, isn't he?"

"Oh, yeah. Professor Greyfriar is an excellent man. He has a very big heart." Bea smiled and clicked her heels together. She wouldn't ever forget the compliment he gave her new hair cut when she first began attending Hogwarts. Though that was such a little thing from such a long time ago, Beatrix was very upset since no one had liked it, even if those people had no importance, but Greyfriar said it was a nice style and she felt much better.

It was rather pleasant talking to Waker. Beatrix had always wanted to talk to her, but either never had time or was too busy reading about Herbology. Even if she was still blushing with embarrassment, she felt quite comfortable with Waker. It wasn't like talking to shy fourteen year old boys or duranged teachers, it was... Nice.

"I think sometimes you just have to find the part that really interests you,"

Beatrix bit down on her lip and squitted her eyes, thinking very hard. "Remembering Day was the only thing I ever was interested in... No, I didn't present. It really just slipped my mind. I really need to pay more attention in that class..." She took the dumb look off her face and smiled again. Beatrix would keep that promise to herself from that moment forward, though she knew she'd slip every now and then.

"I'm sure you'll have so many new topics next year, you'll be running back to whatever it is you're doing in Transfiguration right now,"

Beatrix giggled at Waker's comment and nodded, "So I've heard. I'm not really hyped up for fifth year... I have a bit of a 'I-Never-Want-To-Get-Older' attitude towards life... I'm sure I'll grow out of it." she shrugged and smiled, much more widely than before. "I know what you mean. People just can't respect the simple tasks of turning rodents into basic luxuries. If they need a cup, but all they have is a snail, they won't know what to do because they just sleep their educations away." She agreed with Waker. She knew plenty of people who would laze around in class and didn't think it was right. Which made her seem hypocritical, since she does the same for History.

There was a small clank and she had gotten up to gather her stuff.  Her quill slipped, slightly, but she caught it and pushed in her chair. Beatrix had decided to join Waker a bit closer than before, since the distance seemed as if they were just chatting strangers and not really having a nice conversation... Well, nice in Bea's opinion. She shoved her belongings into a small, grey backpack in a tighty fashion and approached Waker while giving her a nice, friendly grin. With a soft thud, Beatrix set herself down in a chair that was behind the one that Waker sat in, and turned it a bit towards her. "Much better, huh?" Beatrix's smile sticked for a bit longer than usually.

"Remembering Day was the only thing I ever was interested in... No, I didn't present. It really just slipped my mind. I really need to pay more attention in that class..."

For Waker, it was the opposite. Or, really, it was exactly the same. But she always had trouble remaining poised when she became particularly passionate about something... like the idea behind Remembering Day. It was the one subject in History that she fumbled over when she spoke, and it was also the one that occupied her mind the most. Being a muggleborn did have its drawbacks, even if she hated to admit it outside of one-on-one conversations.

"Well, that's a good start," she admitted. "It's the most recent. Firsthand accounts aren't easy to come by when you're researching... Goblin Rebellions." Sometimes Waker wished firsthand accounts of the war weren't as easy to come by, either, even if a part of her craved to know what had been like. It was always, paying respect to those who had served. It made her feel so small. "But... doing your homework is a start." She smirked knowingly; how many people had charmed their way out of the presentation, she wondered?

"So I've heard. I'm not really hyped up for fifth year... I have a bit of a 'I-Never-Want-To-Get-Older' attitude towards life... I'm sure I'll grow out of it."

"You will," she promised, almost too soon. She might have blushed at herself, but she managed not to. There was definitely a part of her that wanted to remain young and experience all of the things she neglected in favor of books, but she'd chosen her path and she was determined to be successful. Why else was her life so micromanaged, if not for the future? Even when friends talked to living day by day, and Waker grew envious, she could never quite let go of the hyper-organized race to the finish line. To graduation. To the wizarding world. "I mean," she clarified. "It's fun being young, but you don't want to be stuck here forever, do you? Don't you have plans for after Hogwarts?" Why was she asking people this question so often? And why was her own answer always too specific and somehow not specific enough?

"I know what you mean. People just can't respect the simple tasks of turning rodents into basic luxuries. If they need a cup, but all they have is a snail, they won't know what to do because they just sleep their educations away."

Tilting her head, the older girl couldn't help but analyze her housemate a little further, if subtly. A small smile still lingered on Waker's lips. Somehow Beatrix had voiced exactly the thing Waker always tried to tell people, but they always thought she was being a prude. Coming from the younger girl, however, it sounded much more convincing. Were they harsh, or just practical? She liked to think the latter... although, as she'd pondered before, she was also beginning to see the need for occasional slacking and witchy fun. Even during Potions study sessions (or especially).

"They could always just drink straight from the snail and claim to be exhibitionists," she offered. The animal activists would be upset either way. Really, though, one day would need those cups, goblets, spoons...

Her eyes followed the girl as she stood. For a moment, Waker wondered whether she'd bored the girl to tears, or offended her in some way-- not that it was remotely possible in the confines of the library, and yet, it definitely was-- but then Beatrix moved directly behind her, sitting near, seemingly so that they could talk without harassing the librarian or any more of those giggling girls who were bound to be lurking the Love Potion aisle, if not skipping toward the nearest emergency exit. An expression somewhere between nonchalance and invitation, if such a look existed, took over the older girl's face.

"Much better, huh?"

She reflected the smile, now officially and quite Un-Wakerly turning 180 degrees away from her homework. If any professors popped in for a routine looming or vague chat, she would jump to it.

"You know," she began hesitantly, and then decided to continue. It wasn't as if her mind would allow her to get anything done right now, anyway. "Megan in your year, Megan Ruiz--" Obviously Beatrix knew her, given that they were roommates. But Waker wasn't sure how well they got along, or whether they were close. She wondered whether this counted as bombarding the Ruiz girl with unwanted attention; she hoped not, but somehow doubted a tour group of twenty strangers was at all comparable to a dormmate. "She's a very good artist. Have you looked at the work she displayed in Remembering Day Art Show? Maybe visualizing everything would give you a... kick start." Not that she imagined anyone had stock piles of paintings on the Centaur Peace Acts. They were slightly less riveting than the Battle of Hogwarts, truth be told. But Waker had got in the habit of trying to entice people into studying things they hated most, at least those people who seemed genuinely interested in improving. Those who couldn't care less were the ones who irked her.

Beatrix nodded, softly, "We all need our beginnings. I guess..." She shrugged and giggled a bit. A promise is a promise, Bea would never let herself down. It was only a small school subject, anyways. In fact, she shouldn't need to promise herself. She should of just done it to begin with. But. She didn't. "Homework sounds easy enough... Almost fun, too." She smiled at the thought. She loved homework... That wasn't weird.

"You will... I mean, it's fun being young, but you don't want to be stuck here forever, do you? Don't you have plans for after Hogwarts?"

Beatrix thought about what Waker had said for a while. She scratched her head and raised an eyebrow. Did she have any plans? "I... I ust to want to join my father in the Ministry... Even though I didn't really ever know what he did..." She began to look quite depressed and she slunk down a little bit, "I can't really do that now, anyways..." And with that, she shook her head and went back to normal. She never really talked about her father before... Only with Zoey, really. But that was because he understood how she felt. Well, sort of...

"They could always just drink straight from the snail and claim to be exhibitionists,"

That made Beatrix almost snort with laughter. "You're right. They could just do that." She giggled. Even if Bea loved animals, she thought it was quite funny. And gross. If someone really did need a cup, they needed to know how to do such things. Else they'd end up drinking... Snail. Which didn't sound that pleasant.

"You know, Megan in your year, Megan Ruiz--"

Beatrix nodded and continued to smile, "Megan's a good friend of mine. She's real nice. She helps me with my quidditch some... She says she thinks I'll be a great Keeper one day." She then clicked her heels together, again, "I thought that was real sweet of her..." It was true that Bea and Megan were roommates and they talked often. But Bea had no idea why Waker was mentioning her.

"She's a very good artist. Have you looked at the work she displayed in Remembering Day Art Show? Maybe visualizing everything would give you a... kick start."

Beatrix stared at Waker a bit before answering, "Yeah... I knew she was an artist-- She drew pictures for Remembering Day? I didn't know that." She sounded a bit disapointed, "Ah... Well... I could ask to see them. I'm sure they're excellent..." Bea pushed away the glum feeling and just smiled some more. It was a lot easier since the war had been so close to her time. In fact, it had happened when Bea was four years old. She had no idea what was going on in her days back then. All she remembered was that her Father got upset when it was over for some reason.

At least the girl could acknowledge a need for change; Waker admired that quality, even if she didn’t always possess. She was a creature of habit through and through, with habits good and bad. Still, she seemed to have little trouble judging people too quickly for their own habits. If having fun with homework was one of Beatrix’s, though, they were both in good company. Not that Waker was feverishly attracted to lab write-ups or anything… She just did what she had to do to be successful in school. Right? Right…

“I like it, too,” she confided, subtly glancing both ways to see whether anyone had heard them. As if it was a secret that Waker Nolan did her homework.

The Ministry. Waker felt her heart jump a little. How she could relate. The place had her shackled, and she hadn’t even set foot on its property. It seemed Beatrix had similar aspirations, and, ironically, a similar uncertainty about what exactly she wanted to do when she got there.

“You… I’m sorry, is he…?” She felt her cheeks tingeing pink. The girl had used past tense, and it was often excruciatingly awkward to speak about people who were dead, or gone, or both. 

Waker loosened a little upon hearing the two girls were friends. Beyond Beatrix’s library visits, Waker didn’t know much about her, oddly enough—or not so oddly, considering they were two years apart. But it was a good sign that the Dark girl and Megan got along.

And what was with her own penchant for befriending Quidditch players?

“Keeper?” Waker tried not to raise a brow. She had no doubt the girl was a good flier; anyone was better than she. In part because they put in time that she never devoted to brooms, but there was also a natural talent that coupled nicely with regular practice. One Waker was sure she had never possessed. Her feet were married to the ground. But she was most curious because one of her best friends happened to be Ravenclaw’s keeper. “Delilah is great, have you seen her play?” She asked, if she were an expert on the tactics used. Really, she just cheered for the great saves, and sometimes winced or shielding her eyes when a bludger went whirling in the female twin’s direction. She had a feeling she would be a doing a lot more of that, with a vested interest in two of the school’s keepers. Not to mention a Slytherin chaser. Tangled webs, Waker, tangled webs. “Maybe she could give you some advice. I’m complete rubbish with Quidditch.” She rolled her eyes. “But I’m sure Megan knows what she’s talking about.” She bit her tongue so as not to randomly include George’s name, though he undoubtedly would know what he was talking about, too.

Waker couldn’t tell whether the girl’s disappointment came from not knowing about her roommate’s paintings, or the subject of Remembering Day altogether. She’d claimed to be interested, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t depressing. Certainly this year in particular had been a strain for everyone following the Memorial Ceremony. And then there was the muggleborn angle, and the displacement of it all… But she didn’t know anything about Beatrix’s history even while she stared back, attempting her usual reading of people (which was often off the mark, despite decent perception). “They’re wonderful. Everyone at the art festival seemed to enjoy them… did you get to Hogsmeade at all?” She was cautious as she asked. She didn’t know what made her so.

“I like it, too,”

Beatrix’s lips curled into a small grin. It was as if Waker was embarrassed to say she liked to do homework. But she thought it was a neat little thing to have in common, since not many people liked homework. Beatrix was going to say ’I’ll keep you’re secret!’ but she thought that was pushing it a bit. “It is the best pass-time.” Beatrix smiled, brightly, and giggled. That was a big cheesy, but she meant it.

“You… I’m sorry, is he…?”

She gave Waker a confused look, and then shook her head. “Oh. No. He’s not dead.” She smiled, faintly. She couldn’t seem to shut her mouth about her Father lately… It was rather strange. Beatrix didn’t want to say much, since she wasn’t comfortable with it just yet. Plus, all the talk about him made her weary and depressed. She had no idea why she was missing him so much lately. But Waker did seem like the type of person to hear it, and then leave it alone. “My father’s in Azkaban, is all…” Beatrix whispered.

“Delilah is great, have you seen her play?”

Delilah was a good keeper, and Beatrix knew this. But she gave a small, jealous look before grinning again. “Yeah. Delilah’s fantastic.” She nodded, slightly. “I tend not to watch the keepers…” Beatrix nearly began to blush again, since she only really didn’t pay attention to Delilah… Ever. It was like she was so jealous of her, she couldn’t even bare to watch. Beatrix usually just kept her eyes on the quaffle or bludgers. Or, whenever it’s a Slytherin game, she pays attention to the Beaters. This was a known fact about Beatrix, because she was so obsessed over the captain. Waker would probably even know that;  whenever there’s a Slytherin game, Beatrix runs through the halls, wearing green and black, and screams ”GO, GO, SLYTHERIN! I KNOW YOU WILL WIN!”

It wasn’t that she was embarrassed that she had a crush; she was just embarrassed by the way she acted. It was rather foolish and made her look like an idiot. But, something told Beatrix that Waker had feelings like that before. Not like she’d ask, that’d just make her feel worst. “I like to watch the… Um… Beaters.” She finally admitted. It also had a bit to do with the violence. It was amusing to watch a Ravenclaw beater knock a Hufflepuff chaser off their broom.

“Maybe she could give you some advice. I’m complete rubbish with Quidditch. But I’m sure Megan knows what she’s talking about.”
“I always thought that, too.” Beatrix grinned, blushing a bit more, “I’m so skinny… I always think I’ll just be wiped off my broom if a gust of wind hits me.” She giggled, poking at her stomach. “Megan is a great help. I’m glad I’m friends with her.” She smiled even more widely than before. Beatrix’s face was a light pink, almost as if she had gotten a slight sun burn. Her mind was on other things that she would laugh awkwardly at if she talked about it.

“They’re wonderful. Everyone at the art festival seemed to enjoy them… did you get to Hogsmeade at all?”

She thought about it before shaking her head. “I haven’t been out in a while. Really depressing, it is.” Beatrix shrugged and clicked her heels together. “I wish I was able to see her art… And my Mother doesn’t sign those Hogsmeade slips. She looks at them, and then sets them aside.” Beatrix rolled her eyes and grinned at Waker, “So I forged it. No biggie. But I didn’t go last time; I think I overslept or something.” She shrugged and giggled a bit. Bea never liked getting up early on weekends. It’s a miracle if she does sometimes.

“Oh. No. He’s not dead.”

Waker didn’t know whether to feel relieved or more embarrassed. The only thing more awkward than discussing a parent who was gone in the ‘no longer living’ sense, was discussing a parent who was gone but still alive. Again, that too common urge to complain about her own parents seemed to slap Waker in the face and ask what was wrong with her; her parents were wonderful compared to some of the stories she’d heard at Hogwarts. She took in a deep breath and let it out, preparing herself to speak, to offer a thankful apology, to somehow evade the deeper question, and to squash her own lingering curiosity for the sake of a more casually friendly topic, Only…

“My father’s in Azkaban, is all…”

Well, that was new. Waker’s friends had a very diverse cast of fathers, but the role of Azkaban Prisoner had not yet been filled. She resisted the urge to react in a terribly ungraceful manner. Her hands were in her lap now, and she was ringing against her skirt. “Oh…” She murmured at first, taking it all in, trying not to sound utterly shocked; clearly, judging by Beatrix’s tone, it wasn’t tea time conversation, even if she’d added ‘that’s all’. Waker raised a wrist and flicked her fingers at her own hair, needlessly as usual, as it appeared rather tame in its library state of rest. “I didn’t mean to intrude,” she added awkwardly, even if Beatrix had brought up the man first. But it was all on Waker’s shoulders, really. She’d just had to go and ask about the future, hadn’t she? The bloody future, it was all she cared about!

But it wasn’t…

Sometimes she wanted very much to avoid it all costs. Sometimes she wanted to be very young again.

“I hope things work out for your family,” she concluded strangely, finding her own eyes glued to her paper again, despite her temporary distaste for essays on Animagi. She’d never been more thrilled to discuss the fine details of Quidditch. (Granted, she’d never hated the sport, and in fact enjoyed cheering on her team… and other teams… when she was in the mood.)

There was something in the younger girl’s expression that was unsettling, but Waker felt it best not to call her out just yet, particularly given the fact that she’d just asked if Mr. Dark was dead. If they were playing a form of quidditch now, Waker would be down a million points. “You want to be a keeper but you don’t watch the keepers?” Surely she’d heard wrong. She tilted her cheek a fraction, resisting the urge to furrow her brow. It was like being a writer who never read the work of others. Sure, some people were fantastic writers, and most people’s work, in the end, was entirely stand-alone (just like the paintings she’d discussed with Megan), but much of one’s skill was developed by studying others… surely. Maybe there were new methods to the madness of flying, and Waker Nolan was behind the times. She’d have to ask… anyone and everyone with whom she happened to most frequently associate. Wow, was she that lame?

“Are beaters better at saving quaffles, and I’ve been delusional this whole time?” It sounded to Waker though, that there was another appeal in the beaters that had nothing to do with their collective ability to hit bludgers. She watched carefully, trying not to make any assumptions with her own face. They were both teenage girls, however. “Any Beaters in particular… whose techniques… inspire you?” Obviously Waker was no longer asking about broom tactics.

Waker could relate to not trusting her own body on a broom. Not so much because of her figure, which was also rather slim, but now steadily filling in, given that she had shot upward first and foremost, but because it was illogical. Human beings didn’t fly; and Waker hadn’t given herself the chance to become enthralled with the sport when she learned it wasn’t a regular class. She’d been by muggles, raised to appreciate athletics that involved the earth. Even then, team sports were never appealing… which was ironic, given her penchant for academic competition. (And certainly she could recall a recent and very unofficial race around the lake that had made her almost cutthroat).

“Again, I’m useless with those things, but I think it’s more about balance.” A lot of seekers, especially, were tiny. Even Waker had noticed. “Just cling to the thing for dear life if you feel it slowing…” Obviously encouraging someone to pursue this sort of thing wasn’t her greatest suit. The pink in Beatrix’s cheeks, as usual, made it hard for Waker to keep her own color, though she had nothing to be embarrassed about.

Depressing, indeed. Waker could unfortunately relate. Excluding the tours she’d given, she hadn’t really had the chance to spend much time just looking at the art for the fun of it, or participating in many of the Remembering Day events. She’d made plans to ‘hang out’ with a certain someone, but that was only hours before the terrible murders at the ceremony. Needless to say, the holiday had not gone as imagined. But Waker was still thankful for people like Megan and her artistic interpretations of the past and present.

“Sometimes the workload swallows you up,” she admitted, gesturing to the stacks of books surrounding her own little piece of the library. But that wasn’t exactly what they’d been discussing. She had to raise a brow upon hearing the girl forged her mother’s signature, but even if it was highly against the rules, Waker almost couldn’t blame her. Not being allowed into Hogsmeade, to regain some sense of sanity from being locked up in the school (however much she liked it), sounded almost dangerous for anyone older than thirteen.

“I won’t tell anyone,” she assured the girl, though Beatrix had not done anything to make Waker think she suspected her. Joking about forgery and doing it were two different things, naturally, but Beatrix's case seemed rather... reasonable. And sometimes people mistakingly believed Waker was the sort of person who would take everything straight to the professors. She wasn't, not in the least. She even possessed a subtle mischievousness that complimented her sense of humor, even if it wasn't entirely the same as Beatrix's, and it was sometimes hard to unearth. Netiher girl was Devlin Matthews, at any rate. “You should buy an alarm clock, though,” she added, a humorous and unserious brand of sarcasm in her tone. “The charmed ones are great, but Jasper wants a muggle one for some reason.” She nearly shook her head, but grinned and thought of her Slytherin friend.

“I hope things work out for your family,”

Beatrix smiled, brightly, at Waker. “I appreciate that.” She said, quietly. Having someone who has influenced Bea so much wishing better for her really made her feel better. Beatrix always just got the pity card, which would just make her frustrated. But that was what Beatrix left it as. She wouldn’t mention anything else about her father, and she knew Waker wouldn’t ask any more. It was a bit of an awkward feeling going on between the two.

“You want to be a keeper but you don’t watch the keepers?”

She let out a small chuckle and nodded, “Well. I watch them sometimes, but I usually don’t like to. It’s a bit… Strange… I-” Beatrix paused and shrugged, “I think that none are as good as me, honestly. Even though they’re all better.” She laughed and shook her head. “I’m a bit conceited when it comes to Quidditch.” This was true with about everything else in Bea’s life. She thought she was better than a lot of other people, but at the same time knew that it wasn’t true.

“Are beaters better at saving quaffles, and I’ve been delusional this whole time?”

Beatrix’s snorted, slightly, “No, no, no. I just like Beaters. They’re violent and knock people off brooms.” She grinned, innocently. She wasn’t going to exactly say ’Also, Alexander Snark! Hello!?’ but that wasn’t the real reason she liked Beaters. Alex being a beater was what made Beatrix notice him in the first place. It would be real pathetic if Beatrix liked Beaters because of Alexander.

“Any Beaters in particular… whose techniques… inspire you?”

Of course, she quickly blurted out “Obviously, the Slytherin captain.” Who didn’t know that, anyways? Beatrix blushed very hard and shrugged. Waker was a girl, she could understand. It’s not like she was talking to Zoey, whom would just get confused and say “Snarky’s nephew?” Every time. One would think he’d finally get the hint. Beatrix bit her lip and stared at Waker for a few moments, “He’s very attractive.” She choked out.

“Just cling to the thing for dear life if you feel it slowing…”

Beatrix nodded in agreement. “Or, when you’re about to be blown off by the wind.” She joked, grinning to herself. She knew perfectly well that she had to hold on to her broom tightly, because she had to hold onto it like there’s no tomorrow ALWAYS. She was so skinny she could just slide off. Especially since she had a really fast broom. Beatrix chuckled a bit, “Flying isn’t meant for everyone.”

When Waker promised not to tell, Bea wasn’t surprised. Not many people in the school actually did rat on people. She’s never met a student that told on her for what she has done. Beatrix usually got in trouble because a Professor would see her. Which happened quite a lot. “I didn’t exactly expect you to.” She winked and grinned at Waker, sweetly, “Why would someone ruin the fun for another, anyways?” Beatrix shook her head, pitifully, “It’s like taking candy from a baby~ Unless that baby is actually Gavin Snark… Then who really cares?” She really wanted to burst out laughing at that, but her shoulders just shook up and down and she giggled slightly.

Waker laughed. It was a short, breathy, almost scoffy little laugh, but there was an air of understanding in it, despite the also obvious fact that she found it funny. Maybe it was because… deep down, or not so deep down… she recognized the attitude in herself. How many times had she secretly believed she could do something better than a classmate, or even a friend? “Mmm, well, have you tried to sign up for the reserves? That might be your best bet for making Keeper after Del graduates,” she offered. She didn’t confess one way or another that she, too, could be conceited about certain things, but Waker’s voice was not as critical as it might have been if she were talking to someone entirely unlike Beatrix.

“No, no, no. I just like Beaters. They’re violent and knock people off brooms.”

Waker narrowed her eyes, analyzing the girl with a mixture of suspicion and amusement. She didn’t have to open her mouth, however, to probe the girl’s seeming interest in violence, because the more reasonable answer made its way to the forefront. The Slytherin captain.

Waker Nolan was a lot of things; blind wasn’t one of them. Unfortunately, Alexander Snark, aside from being ‘very attractive’, as Beatrix had bluntly put it, also happened to be very good friends with Devlin Matthews. Any bit of pretty boy appeal he might have potentially possessed, once upon a time ago in a land far, far away, had been killed by a terrible dragon… who had most regrettably left alive his bad taste in friends.

“Alexander Snark?” She questioned, almost not believing it without confirmation. But then she was sure she had heard something about a fourth year Ravenclaw being very obviously head over heals. Of course, the uncle of the two, one sly creature called Gavin, was, in Waker’s experience, the more irksome. He thought he was so clever, gliding by in class without lifting a page… But then Waker remembered who their mother was—she’d been doing that a lot in the past couple of weeks—and wanted to slap herself. “I… his little cousin, the one in Gryffindor, seems nice… er.” Nicer. She hadn’t really talked to the girl, but she’d seen her friends hanging around with her. Arielle seemed much more reasonable a person. Her mouth drawing into a tight line of a smile, she nodded slowly, cordially, and tried desperately to think of something less pathetic. Waker had almost forgotten what it was like to be Beatrix’s age, even though that was ridiculous, because it had only been two years ago… and everyone still had crushes. “He looks like he would be photogenic,” she added. Fail.

The mention of another Snark, the one Waker had just been thinking about a moment ago, would have made things odder, had Beatrix not been wonderfully, cheerfully cynical. “Taking candy from Gavin Snark… I’ll pay the first person who does it without paying him.”

“Mmm, well, have you tried to sign up for the reserves? That might be your best bet for making Keeper after Del graduates,”

Beatrix made a look like she had no idea what Waker was talking about (Because she had never heard of such a thing) but she shook her head and smiled again. "No, actually... I think I'll just try out when everyone else is... It would be fun to have some competition." Beatrix's smile fluttered from innocent to diabolical and back, "Not that there will be any competition--" She then dropped the rest of her thoughts and didn't say another word. Bea realized she must of sounded either arrogant... Or downright mischievous and threatening. Which she didn't exactly mean to do.

Ranges of emotions seemed to spew out of the Nolan girl in front of Beatrix. She seemed utterly confused about something... What was she all befuddled about, any how? Beatrix gave Waker a small look as if saying 'What's-the-matter-with-you-woman?' but then just smiled, politely, again. Clearly something was bothering her and Beatrix didn't know what.

“Alexander Snark?”

Alright. Now she understood. "Err... Yes, Alexander Snark." Beatrix grinned, faintly, before speaking again, "Of course... I can't stand his friends. Dagan's alright, and I've never talked to the girl..." She paused made a cruel scowl, "But Mr. Matthews and Mr. Snark are ass-hats." It was rather point blank, but Beatrix didn't need to make up some sugar-coated word like 'Mr. Matthews is a meanie-face!' No, Devlin Matthews was a destroyer of love... And teenage innocence.

“I… his little cousin, the one in Gryffindor, seems nice… er.”

"Arielle?" Beatrix stopped herself from saying something rude like before, "She's worst than Gavin, in my opinion." She nodded, quickly. Why Arielle wasn't in Slytherin, Beatrix had no idea. But Arielle wasn't an enjoyable rude like Gavin and on some occasions Devlin, Arielle actually hurt Bea's feelings a lot because Bea once tried to be friends with her... It didn't really work out too well.

“He looks like he would be photogenic,”

Her brow furrowed and she seemed rather puzzled. "Waker... Did Alexander do anything to you?" Beatrix asked, politely. It seemed that there was no way Waker would understand why Bea liked Alexander, which was happening a lot lately with the girls shes talked to. She's only ever known one other person who has liked Alexander, and she was currently smooching her best friend behind her back. This was obviously annoying to Bea, so she didn't talk much with the girl... But when they do talk, she's quite lovely. "I understand he can be rather... Crude..." Beatrix didn't mean to, but she was lying.

The was a small snort from Bea and she began to laugh. "That'd be a sight to see." She cackled. She could almost imagine someone stealing a lollipop right from Gavin's hand when he's trying to eat it. Beatrix would love to see the anger and disappointment in his eyes, but she actually didn't mind him all too much. He was quite like a big baby.