Baxter was generally in the library in his spare time, and weekends were no different. Sunday was the days when he brought out all of his completed homework, and checked it for errors. The Ravenclaw boy had discovered letting it sit for a day or so would make it much easier to correct the second time around. And sometimes you just had to recheck your work- especially considering some of the elective classes that he was taking.

Currently Baxter was going over some work for Arithmancy- not exactly the easiest of classes, he had discovered. Nor was Ancient Runes- which was next on his list. He had his book in front of him, as well as his parchment. Baxter's print was small, definite, and neat. Penmanship was important, he supposed, everything ought to be legible. He just wasn't a fan of cursive, it was too flourished and too easily misread.

Baxter lifted his wand and muttered a quiet spell, watching as a few words disappeared from the page. He carefully hunkered down over the parchment and re-wrote them- correctly spelled- glad that they fit perfectly into the empty space. He wasn't above re-writing his whole assignment if it didn't suit him.

"Drat," he exclaimed (although quietly, he was in a library) as ink dripped onto the top corner of his page. He reached into his bag to pull out a small, ink-blotted rag and mashed it against the page, soaking up the ink. His wand was extracted again to remove the smudge from the page- but instead it just lit up and then smoked out, burning the corner off. "Urgh!" Now he was going to have to write it all over again!

Pax was taking advantage of the Sunday-induced quiet of the library to do research. He was up to date on his homework for the time being, so it wasn't class related; he was poring through yet another volume dedicated to werewolves and other magical creatures and beings. (Pax often thought that once they had made enough headway with werewolf rights, SAWS could become more expansive, turning its attention to the relations between wizarding society and beings like centaurs, goblins and merpeople. There were so many rifts between magical beings, it seemed. The only ones who seemed to actually be happy with how witches and wizards as a whole treated them seemed to be the house elves, and even then, Pax wasn't sure about the wellbeing of some privately-'owned' elves, from what he'd read.)

Of course, werewolves were the priority at the moment. So while he still looked up information on other magical beings, he found his thoughts drifting to how SAWS could help raise awareness and understanding of the hardships of lycanthropy. They were already trying to arrange a guest speaker, a benefit concert, a survey of the Hogsmeade businesses... Pax sighed audibly. It never seemed to be enough, and it always seemed like there was so much scope to go wrong, given SAWS's current track record and reputation.

He was shaken from his thoughts by a muttered exclamation a few tables over. Pax glanced over, and recognised Baxter Fox, a third year Ravenclaw he knew by face and by reputation, but whom he hadn't had much occasion to speak to as of yet. He certainly seemed annoyed about something. Concerned, an instantly wondering if there was something he could do to help (Pax never had been particularly apt at knowing when to leave well enough alone), the young Hufflepuff hopped down from his chair and shuffled over to Baxter's table (taking A Catalogue of Creatures by Palamedes Unferth with him so that Mr. Morgan wouldn't swoop down and put it away again).

'Hey, are you okay?' he asked Baxter in his designated Library Voice (a tentative, hushed tone). 'Baxter, right?' His eyes fell on the parchment that seemed to have offended the Ravenclaw. 'Oh, that's annoying,' he commiserated, knowing from (very frequent) experience how frustrating it was to have a spell not work how you wanted it to. 'At least it's just the corner... You could always cut the burnt bit off to neaten it up?' he suggested, giving the other boy a quietly optimistic look.

Baxter's attentions were diverted by a quiet voice. He lifted his eyes from his parchment, silently regarding the first year. The first year who- apparently- knew his name. Baxter knew his name, too, but only because he made it a point to know all of those associated with SAWS. Mostly to avoid disagreements with them. He knew his views on werewolves were not well welcomed- especially after the Care of Magical Catastrophe where he had voiced his opinions.

"If I clip it then the parchment will be uneven," he commented. It was true. No, Baxter would have to start all over now to make it presentable. You didn't turn in scorched or cut up parchment for an assignment- it told the teacher you didn't care about your grade, and Baxter cared- he cared much more than most people did. Although Baxter's reasons for caring were not selfish ones. Mostly he wanted to make his father proud. Baxter hoped if his dad saw perfect marks, that he would be proud- and tell him so. Perhaps take the initiative for once. But that was too much to hope for, and the Ravenclaw boy knew it- even if he wasn't yet ready to admit it to himself. If nothing else his mother would praise him and reward him.

"I'll have to start over," he said to Pax, finding another piece of parchment from his bag, Baxter lay it down. "There is a spell to make a copy, but I am worried it will copy over the burnt corner as well." He remained quiet for a few moments as he wrote out a few more lines onto the page, then looked up to Pax again.

Baxter moved a few things over to make room at one of the empty chairs. "You can sit down, if you like," Baxter told him after he had reorganized his things. "I'm just going over my homework to make sure there are no errors. We see how well that worked out," the Ravenclaw boy muttered as he continued to re-write his assignment on the fresh parchment.

Pax watched the older boy with a mixture of surprise and admiration, before giving a small nod of thanks and sliding onto one of the vacant chairs at the table. What he knew about Baxter, he mostly knew from reputation, and he was always careful about what stock he put into just what he’d heard. For instance, he wasn’t sure yet what to make of some of the murmurings that Baxter took against werewolves. (He also wasn’t sure he wanted to find out the truth behind that; for all his proto-activist tendencies, Pax still wasn’t sure how to act around people whose beliefs fell under his definition of ‘unjust’.)

The heresay that Baxter took his schoolwork very seriously, however, now seemed pretty much justified. (The term ‘total swot’ had been batted about, but Pax dismissed such terms for the conscientious as those of the immature and/or insecure.) It was a trait Pax took a shine to quite quickly; he liked his fellow first-years, but sometimes it seemed like only a small portion of the class was actually keen to learn.

‘Sometimes I wish I had time to go over my homework that thoroughly,’ Pax admitted, still using his Library Voice. ‘It’s quite hard for me to keep up, y’see, so I have to spend lots of time just getting the homework done, and then when I do, there are spelling errors, and...’ He trailed off, a little embarrassed as he realised he was rambling. ‘You must get great marks,’ he added, sounding a little bit wistful. ‘With all that attention to detail. Plus people say you’re really smart.’ (He left out the ‘swot’ part.)

Baxter was nearly preening at the well placed praise from the first year. Baxter definitely did take his studies seriously, and the Ravenclaw was always appreciative of anyone who noticed- even more appreciative of those who seemed to envy his capabilities in the classroom. He was a very skilled wizard, and he knew that he was- chances were he could have any future he wanted, and any job in the wizarding world. His father wanted him to be an auror, and Baxter was thinking about it- but admittedly, he wasn't certain that was the route for him. But he had plenty of time to figure that one out.

"Well, when you're a third year there's even more work," he told the boy. "With your electives on top of your core classes. I take all five electives, and all of the core classes and I manage to stay on top of things. It's about priorities and keeping up with time. Work first, play later." It was a simple concept to Baxter, because it was how his parents had always lived their lives. He had been taught early on that responsibility came before fun and leisure- and that lesson had stuck. The Ravenclaw did suppose, though, that being naturally gifted helped a lot. Baxter didn't struggle through like some of the other kids at Hogwarts did.

"It's not always a matter of being smart, though," Baxter said. "There's more to it than that. It's a lot of hard work to keep up and maintain high marks. I don't know yet, what I want to be when I grow up, but if I goof off now then I'll never get to where I want to be in life. What you do at Hogwarts is important. Those OWLs and NEWTs determine your future. And if you choose the wrong electives it can restrict your choices when you graduate of what you want to do. If I had my way- and I know it isn't entirely realistic- I'd get a NEWT in every subject that Hogwarts offers."

Pax goggled a little at the Ravenclaw. All the electives? He'd heard Baxter took a lot of classes, but all of them? Wow. And he even wanted to take them all at the NEWT level! Pax wasn't sure that even Eirene was that serious about school. (And that was saying something.) How in the world did Baxter ever find the time to do so much work?

'I know about the hard work part,' Pax said, looking rather sheepish, as if he was somehow at fault for not being more intelligent. 'My dad says that's why I got put in Hufflepuff, 'cos I work hard. I have to, you see. I'm not clever-- the only thing I'm good at without really trying is Divination, and I can't even take that until third year. And when I get to third year, I don't think I'd be able to take all the electives, like you do,' he admitted. 'I guess I have priorities other than school... I mean, school comes first of course, but I'm in a few clubs as well, so...'

He trailed off, feeling as though he was making excuses, but he continued to watch the older boy with a mixture of admiration and envy. 'How do you find time for all those classes?' Maybe the third-year simply didn't require sleep? 'Is it 'cos-- Are you just really good at all your subjects? I mean, aren't there any that you're ba-- well, less good at?' Pax was very slightly starting to wonder if Baxter was a boy, or some kind of magical anthropomorphised incarnation of Being Extremely Good at Things.

Regardless of the supposed traits of the house, Baxter had never associated Hufflepuffs as being hard workers. There were too many... well, too many "all the rest" Hufflepuffs for him to seriously think of them as hard workers. Baxter knew for a fact that Ayla and Winifred at least were among those- and he would wager on some others being the same. But, then again, Baxter didn't see them and their real personalities all of the time- most of his interactions with his fellow third years was only in classes. Socialization was not one of his strong suits.

"Well, if the same Divination teacher we have now is still around whenever you're a third year- he's really easy going. Probably impossible to fail his class." Not that it was a good thing. Baxter sincerely doubted the capabilities of any professor who made class to easy. Things should be challenging if a person was going to learn- and not all of their instructors seemed to grasp that. If a student crashed and burned it was likely their own fault- yet somehow the professors ended up getting blamed (especially in public schools) if their pass/fail ratio wasn't appropriate.

Baxter shrugged. "Finding the time for classes isn't hard. I don't really participate in many clubs. I spend study break doing work, and as soon as dinner is over I sit down in the library or the common room and do homework until it is all done. It's a matter of discipline, really. Work first and then play later. It's how most people manage to be successful I would assume. Besides, most classes and assignments aren't that hard for me so I guess I get things done quicker than most people."

"I'm not bad at anything, really, as far as school goes. But there are some that are harder than others. I don't like Care of Magical Creatures. I tend to have problems with it occasionally- but mostly because I'm not a fan of animals, not because I can't understand the material. Divination wouldn't be my best if we had a professor who actually tried to make things challenging."

"If you're having a hard time in things, you should try to find a tutor or ask a professor for extra help," Baxter suggested. "If you get a good start now it only helps you more down the road." Not that Baxter was offering to tutor- he certainly didn't have the time for it, but if it was sound advice.

Pax nodded ponderously at Baxter's insights into the Divination class. The teacher being easy-going wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing, as far as Pax was concerned. (After all, what if he didn't turn out to be as good at the subject as he thought he was? The ways he'd learned to read tea-leaves or the night sky might be completely different from Professor Cuthbert's methods.) Besides, if he wasn't feeling challenged enough in class (a feeling Pax was entirely unused to at present!) he could always suppliment his studies. Independent research had never been something Pax had shied away from, hence all his background reading on werewolves and other magical beasts and beings.

'I guess...' Pax murmured in response to Baxter's suggestion. The idea made him a little uncertain; he didn't like the idea of being an imposition. 'I mean, I do practice a lot, and I do extra reading, but when it's Transfiguration and Charms, you know, stuff you need to use your wand for, reading about it doesn't really help as much as it does with Potions and Herbology... Maybe if I did have some... extra help...' The phrase felt almost shameful, and he ducked his head a little, looking embarrassed and tightening his grip on the library book he was holding. 'I'm a bit... worried about bothering the teachers, though, and... I don't know if there's anyone who does tutoring...' Peering up at Baxter, he asked meekly, 'You don't do tutoring, do you? Or know if there are any other smart students like you who do?'

Baxter shook his head. "I don't have the time to tutor with my schedule," he answered honestly. It wasn't him trying to be mean- though Baxter was aware at times he sounded snarky whether it was his intention or not. It was unfortunate that most people did not value the truth as much as he did. Sugar coating things only made situations worse. "But you're right- about wand work, practice is the only way to go really."

He fell silent, thinking for a moment, wondering if he knew a name to offer to Pax for tutoring. "You could ask one of your prefects," he suggested. "Even if they can't do it, they might be able to point you in the right direction. I don't know very many Hufflepuffs, though. And the few I do know wouldn't make good tutors. I don't imagine Winifred or Ayla would be very good at helping you out with your wand work. Especially not Winifred." No, Oliver tended to blow things up- had been that way ever since Baxter could remember whenever they had classes together.

"Blake might be of some help, though- Blake Knight, he's my housemate. He's really smart, and might have the time. If you want I could ask him about it for you." An extension of niceness? Unlike Baxter Fox. Normally he would expect people to make their own choices, but he was a first year- and Baxter knew that as a first year approaching older students could make one feel awkward. Besides, encouraging a young student who seemed to want to do better was alright in his book. It would be better for everyone if the first years started to take things more seriously.

Pax hugged at A Catalogue of Creatures a little, feeling a tad bit embarrassed at his forwardness, but reassured that Baxter wasn't reprimanding him; the third-year was even offering helpful suggestions! Pax offered him a tentative but grateful smile. Baxter was right; asking a prefect was probably a good avenue to pursue. He didn't know the prefects in the other houses terribly well, but he was on speaking terms with a few of the Hufflepuff prefects. Although, Mystique Ketteridge would probably have her hands full, what with being a Quidditch captain on top of her prefecting duties, so Pax didn't like the idea of pestering her for advice. And Dion Fayette was a little intimidating. But Ruby Flickwick, she was definitely nice. For that matter, so were the other Hufflepuff girls in that year; he could image Fauna, Eveline, and Addie all being understanding if he went to them for help. Although, he wasn't sure he wanted it that widely publicised that he had trouble with wandwork.

He chuckled a little, good-naturedly, when Baxter mentioned Ayla and Winifred. 'Heh, I know what you mean,' he put in. 'They're nice, of course, but yeah, I don't think teaching would be quite their thing.'

'Blake Knight?' Pax recognised the name, and was fairly sure he could put a face to it. 'Oh, I think I saw him at the Muggle Club. He seems cool.' This was quite an achievement for someone whose surname was Knight; not that Pax would ever say anything that uncharitable out loud. ...Not often, anyway. 'W-would you really?' Pax was touched; Baxter really was being very kind to him. He wondered where in the world that reputation of his came from? 'Oh, although, of course, I wouldn't want to-- to, um, inconvenience you,' Pax stumbled a little to remember the word. 'B'cause you're right, I can ask a prefect, like, Ruby Flickwick or someone.' Pax didn't look too nervous, though, despite fumbling his words a little. Baxter wasn't making him feel like a bother, at least.

Baxter wouldn't consider Ayla or Winifred nice. Not because they were mean... but because he reserved nice for people he liked. In which case, that wasn't a whole lot of people. But Winnie and Ayla were just.. different. Those were the sorts of girls who tried to trick boys into being their boyfriend. And the last thing on Baxter's mind was being anybody's boyfriend. Especially for some crazy Hufflepuff girl.

"Blake is a nice guy," he stated. Blake was one of those few people that Baxter liked. "And he's really good at most of his classes. And sure- I'd talk to him for you. Unless you want to talk to him yourself?" Baxter asked. He wasn't sure how Pax would feel about that. The kid seemed pretty shy and awkward. "I mean, we could ask him together or something." Kind of an awkward way to put it, but Baxter figured that when he was a first year he wouldn't be so keen on approaching a random third year either.

"Blake likes Hufflepuffs anyway," he added. More so than a lot of other people in his house who often found the badgers to be rude, loud, and obnoxious. "But yeah, you could ask Ruby, too. Or a teacher. You could get a couple of people to help you out," he offered. "That way you don't have to worry about inconveniencing anybody if you think that would be a problem. Third years don't really have exams to prepare for though. Nothing serious anyway."

'Nothing serious, unless you're taking all the electives ever,' Pax rejoined, looking a bit more chipper. Baxter was right, maybe he could ask a few different people for help! He stifled a chuckle at the mental image of himself running around between Ruby, Blake, and Fauna, waving his wand frantically to do different spells. He still didn't want to broadcast the trouble he was having with wandwork to lots and lots of people-- he remembered all too well how hard some of the other children at his primary school had been on him when he had obviously been struggling with the workload-- but confiding in a select few, so that no one had to take the burden of tutoring him on all by themselves? That was a good compromise, and Pax grinned at Baxter for thinking of it.

'Yeah, I-- I think I could maybe try talking to Blake myself,' he said ponderously. Blake did seem nice enough. The worst he could say was no, right? And he didn't seem to be at all like his older brother-- or his younger sister, for that matter. Pax got the feeling that if he asked Callum or Aglaia for any kind of help, he'd only be met with ridicule. 'Though, um, maybe if I get to nervous you could maybe come with me?' he added, fidgetting with his shirt sleeves self-consciously. 'And, and I'll ask some other people as well, that's a good idea,' he added. It was important to let people know when you appreciated their input, his mother had always told him that.

Pax's gaze fell on Baxter's Arithmancy homework, and, remembering how busy the third-year was, he slid off his chair in what he hoped was an unobtrusive fashion. 'But, um, anyway. You've got a lot to do, I shouldn't take up any more of your time.' He hefted up the heavy library book, which had been slipping from his grasp a little, and smiled at Baxter again. For someone who was apparently anti-werewolf, the Ravenclaw was being awfully nice. But then, one wasn't always defined by one's beliefs. 'Thanks, Baxter.'

Baxter didn't understand why the boy seemed so hesitant to ask Blake by himself. But Baxter, unlike many others, was lacking any social understanding. He did not get embarrassed easily and was often speaking to people who would rather he go away or talking about things not exactly appropriate for every day conversation. But Baxter did not approach things from an emotional or empathetic point of view- but rather from a logical one. Ravenclaw through and through, and most definitely his father's son.

He watched the small boy slide out of his chair, and smiled awkwardly when Pax thanked him. "It's not a problem," he offered. "Maybe you can stop by the Ravenclaw table one day at dinner and we can talk to Blake then?" Baxter offered. "That way you won't have to worry about trying to find both of us at the same time." Hopefully that would work, and then Baxter wouldn't have to worry about it anymore. The only downfall to getting good marks was all the people who wanted to use you for it. Baxter just didn't have the time or patience for that.

"It's good to get started now than to wait," he added. "See you around then, I guess." Baxter waved lazily before turning his full attentions back to recopying his homework from the ruined parchment onto the fresh bit.

'Um, yeah! See you!' Pax nodded fervently, then backed away a few paces before properly turning around to head towards the check-out desk. He couldn't remember offhand how many books he had out at the moment, but he was fairly sure he wasn't at the limit yet. A Catalogue of Creatures was long enough that Pax would really need to take it away with him to get the full benefit of the information in it, he reckoned.

As he ambled towards the far end of the library to find Mr Morgan, Pax couldn't quite figure out if he was feeling nervous or relieved. On the one hand, Baxter had given him some useful advice about how to go about handling his problems with schoolwork. On the other... What if everyone was as busy as Baxter? Or worse, what if they didn't have time to help him but felt obliged to anyway? It was a good thing Baxter could be frank about how much free time (or lack thereof) he had. Pax chewed on his lip thoughtfully. Maybe if I make it really clear that I won't be upset if they can't help...

Somewhere in the back of his mind he had resolved to talk to Blake at the Ravenclaw table. ...If he didn't look too busy. Probably. And he wouldn't put it off too long either. Almost certainly... After all, Baxter was right, it was better to take action sooner rather than later.

Of course, Pax didn't know at this point that soon word would reach the student population of something that would send concerns about his academic performance right to the back of his mind. When eventually Pax would learn of Ava Grosvenor's death the previous night, he would cope with it by immersing himself in as much schoolwork as possible. The difficulties he had with spellwork would only make it an even better distraction. It would be a few weeks before he'd start thinking about asking for help again.