The end of the semester was closing in on Myrni so quickly that the Arithmancy professor had barely given a thought to what she would be doing for the holidays. In the back of her mind, she knew that much of it would likely be spent in the company of her fiancee, but other than that, she was awash about her personal life. She was currently focused on one thing: getting her final lessons in order and preparing her students for their midterms.

That kind of preparation took her to the school's library, in search of new (to her) texts that she could use to keep the material fresh for her classes and maybe spark something to keep them all excited as they were itching to leave the school for greater fun than number crunching.

The library could be eerily quiet at times, but Myrni considered the end of the term was a starker depiction of the place. Usually loud and boisterous students were seen hunched over stacks of books and scribbling furiously on parchment. As she passed one long table that looked to never end, she thought she heard the student on the end mumbling to himself, wanting desperately to remember something. Eventually, he dropped his head in his arms, possibly from sheer exhaustion.

It must be so difficult for them, Myrni lamented. She paused her personal mission for a moment and regarded the young man with a sympathetic gaze. Without barely another thought, she pointed her wand in his direction and incanted the cheering charm. It was the least she could do, right?

Resuming her trek towards the stacks of dusty, older-than-time books, Myrni felt fairly accomplished already. Her perusal of the titles on the bindings lulled her into a completely different world from everyone else and she had made her way to the end of the shelf before she knew it. She had just taken a step around the end and was about to head down the next aisle when she nearly crashed right into another person--and a fellow professor at that!

She nearly jumped back with a start and her hand immediately went to her throat. "Professor Ó Móráin!" she breathed, glad that her exclamation hadn't been any louder to disturb the studious atmosphere. "Oh I am terribly sorry! I promise it was not my intent to run you down on my way to the next section of books...."

Declan had never sought solace or spent his time drowning in books as his sister had. He liked to read, but only things that directly pertained to him, or things he was working on. The Hogwarts library, he knew, had a plethora of old books that might serve him well given his latest endeavor. Just because he had been ousted from the potions field, did not mean that he could not continue brewing and experimenting on his own time. He would make some sort of excellent break through, and then he would be allowed to re-enter the field he truly loved.

Lately he had been experimenting with luck potions. He knew that there was something missing, that there was a way to increase the effects- to make them not only stronger, but longer lasting, and furthermore make it so that it wasn't addictive. Declan knew it was dangerous to have such a potent potion have no addictive substances in it, but it was something that he wanted to do.

Just as with the woman who was about to run into him, Declan was about to round the stacks, still in search of an old volume on potion substitutions. When she did run into him, he simply blinked at her. So far, he had not had very much interaction with his colleagues. It wasn't easy to insert oneself into cliques which had already been formed, and to get taken seriously when you had the appearance of a sixth or seventh year. In fact, one evening he had been chided by a professor for being out of bed after hours. That had been humiliating.

The old Declan, the one from Hogwarts, would probably have snapped at anyone who dared run into him. But that person was long gone. After being disinherited and ending up mostly broke, arrogance tended to crumble. "Oh, no worries," he reassured the woman. "I think we are easily both at fault here." There. That seemed like a perfectly civil and acceptable response. Certainly much better than arguing.

It was awkward, though, to hear her call him professor. He had been under the assumption such formality could be lost between coworkers. Declan decided to try it anyway. "Anything I can help you find, Levartian? Perhaps two sets of eyes would work better one?"

Myrni took a deep breath, relieved that her fellow professor wasn't going to get upset with her for her lack of attention. Even though she would take full blame for the bump, she nodded when he said they were both to blame. She might as well be appeasing.

She laughed lightly at his next comments about helping her in her search and particularly when he suggested finding an additional set of eyes. "Yes, indeed that would be most helpful," she returned. Myrni stepped around him in order to catch a glimpse of the row of books ahead and if it might have the topic she was in search of.

But then her attention quickly flitted back to Declan. She admitted that she did not know him well. But that did not mean she wasn't interested in knowing him better. Being busy wasn't an excuse and she scolded herself for being so negligent in welcoming him. Clearing her throat, she said, "I was just looking for some supplemental Arithmancy texts. Nothing of importance, really. What about you? Declan, right? Do you mind if I call you that?"