Jordyn almost hated herself for deciding to accompany her father to the Ministry.  He was trying to reestablish himself, or at least make friends with his old contacts again, despite his transgressions, and Jordyn decided that she would rather visit the bustling ministry than sit in their depressing home with her delusional mother attempting to polish what miniscule amount of silver they had left.  It was sad, really, to watch her parents cling so desperately to the past - obviously it wouldn't do much, save embarrass them in the end, which was why Jordyn would be carving her own path, rather than relying on familial connections.  When those failed, surely friendships and business contacts came into play, exactly what her father was hopefully successfully playing to now. 

She, however, as not allowed in such meetings, and instead waited around the atrium for her father to be done.  It was interesting, watching all of the people come in and out, and sitting by the fountain she was sure to see many of them popping in from above, as well as flooing in, like she and her father had done. 

It was not all interesting though, after watching the fiftieth set of drab, black dress robes pass by, and Jordyn decided she could do a little bit of exploring.  Pushing herself up from the fountain, she smoothed out the folds of her skirt and walked right in.  One of the librarians, a dark haired, young looking woman smiled at her as she lifted some books.  Jordyn merely nodded back, pretending to be official and acting as though she worked there.

After all, thinking of working in the Ministry was much preferable to having to go back to Hogwarts and face her housemates after she thoroughly embarrassed herself in front of them in June.  Hopefully, with all of their partying, they'd forget by the time school came - though, she sincerely doubted it.  At least where no one knew her, she could feel some semblance of confidence. 

So, she kept walking, into the seemingly endless stacks, with a sense of authority.  Her head was lifted, her chin tilted up, and back straight as she weaved through sections.  It didn't take very long before she looked all around her and it seemed like she couldn't even remember which direction she had started in... She turned in a circle twice before she bit her bottom lip... Lost!

Rémy mused that Thursday was, perhaps, his least favorite day of the week, owing to its being the day before Friday. It always felt like the end of the week, but then there was that one more day afterwards that no one ever wanted to stick around work for. While the senior Aurors were waiting out the week, they'd sent him down to the library to retrieve some old newspaper archives and a couple of books for research on some case or the other, and in the meantime some prankster had off and snitched his wand. Needless to say, he'd been wandering the stacks for an hour or so, looking for the books he needed.

He'd just located one such book in some distant nether corner of the Library Kingdom, but unfortunately, it was located high atop Bookshelf Mountain, far out of reach of a small man with no ladder handy. He stood at the base of the bookshelf, staring forlornly up at the volume he needed - Pixie Smuggling Records, 1930-1950 - and wondered how he was going to fetch it down without a wand. He looked around; not a ladder in sight. Either that had been stolen, too, or they expected anyone running around would have their wand on them.

So he decided to use the only solution any small man could resort to in this kind of situation: he started climbing the bookshelf.

Some little voice in the back of his mind was already doubting the merits of this plan by the time he'd reached the shelf with the book he needed, and that voice - one that often got ignored anyway - set up an even greater racket when he tried to get the book loose and found it....very stuck. He peered at it, perplexed. It was a large book to begin with, a bit too large for a shelf crammed full of Pixie Smuggling volumes, and on top of that, none of the dusty books looked like they'd been moved in a quarter of a century. He tried getting his hand around it, to no avail, since there was no space between the books; he tried hooking a finger in the spine, but couldn't get enough leverage. Finally, frustrated, he gave it an almighty shove inward with the  palm of his hand, sending it flying out the back along with whatever books had been directly on the other side of it.

Unfortunately, through the newly created gap, he spotted a girl on the floor on the other side.

"Oh, well uh, shit."

Jordyn walked a few paces toward the end of the stack, trying to see around the edges.  More and more shelves just filled her view and she sighed, unsure if that was the direction she had come from.  She sighed and started to walk toward the other end of the shelf, seeing if something looked familiar.  She wished anything had caught her eye as she started to wander in – a book, a plaque, anything!  It all looked the same though.

Let’s see… black books… brown books… more black books… Nothing!  Heaving a deep sigh, Jordyn hardly noticed any rustling sounds – owning it to some weird library sound, the creaking shelves and things were probably pretty normal.  Some of these books looked like they hadn’t been touched in years, maybe decades, maybe an entire century.  Pfft, who needed Analogues of the Goblin Wars anyway?  It sounded like something they’d have to read for History of Magic.  Ugh. 

Biting the inside of her cheek, Jordyn couldn’t believe her bad luck.  First she made a fool of herself in front of some of the other most important Slytherins this summer – and now she was making a fool of herself in the library.  At least no one could see her… at least, she thought so.  She practically jumped out of her skin, halfway up the height of the stack as a book landed hard against the floor, right next to her. 

Had she been standing one foot to her left it would have crashed down upon her head.  After practically screeching, she clamped her hands over her mouth, absolutely mortified that she disturbed the quiet of the library.  Glancing up to where the offensive book came from, she thought she heard a noise – a noise like a voice!  Maybe that person would know where they were – of course, judging by their inability to even take a book down right, she could only hope for a half-wit. 

Frowning, she craned her head back and sarcastically called out in the loudest whisper she could manage, “Of course, I’m fine – thank you for asking!”

Like a stone through a stained-glass window, the girl's screech followed by the loud thump of the book broke the silence of the library for a split second. Rem flinched, feeling as though the entire floor had stopped moving and now held its breath at the sudden noise. And then, finally, the silence settled back in with a dreadful finality, as though it were staring down its nose at him and saying, This is all your fault, the library has a strict moratorium on noise and you just messed it up, so you broke the library. Happy now?

Rather than dwell on this particular train of thought, or whether a librarian would be on the way to find the source of the screech, he peered through the gap where the book had been moments ago, trying to see whether it had hit her or not. She seemed to be fine, as far as he could tell, so he stuck an arm through and waved at her.

"Sorry about that! No, really, I am sorry, I was just....problem solving. Poorly, it would seem." Withdrawing his hand, he scuttled down the bookcase to the floor. Once his feet were on solid ground, he tugged out a few books on eye level, creating a sort of window through the bookshelf so he could speak to her in person. Sort of.

Poking his head through the books, he apologized profusely again. "I am sorry, honest." He frowned, curious, and asked, "You don't really look like someone who'd be running 'round back here in the Ancient and Irrelevant History section, though. Is there anything I can help you with, to make up for almost cracking your noggin with that dusty old brick?"

Jordyn could not believe that a book had just come flying down at her – if she didn’t know any better, she’d say the whole place knew she wasn’t supposed to be here and was trying to push her out.  Unfortunately, its way of communicating was not quite so effective as it would push her out – more likely to drive her deeper and deeper into the recesses of the place that she’d die, starving to death in a stack, before she could get out. 

At least now, despite the fact she was almost killed by a book, there was someone else who might know the way out.  When his head peeped through the hole in the stack, Jordyn looked at the book, surprised to see that the book was actually that thick.  It had made quite the thump.  “A wand would have helped with that,” Jordyn commented with a little sarcastic edge.

Who wandered around without their wand anyway?  Well, outside of her, who couldn’t use it unless she was at school anyway… She wrinkled her nose and looked at the book, part of her wanted to chuck it back up, just to see if it would hit him – but judging by its size, she probably couldn’t throw it any further than she could throw him!  Then, he disappeared.  She blinked – was he really running away?! 

She pursed her lips, moving to see around the edge of the stack to peer around, but stopped a few steps away at the sound of books moving.  With her curiosity piqued, she moved back over and raised her eyebrows.  The books were removed and a blonde head of hair poked through before she saw a face she only vaguely remembered – he looked young, probably only graduated a year or so ago, she figured, though if he had just graduated, she was sure she would have recognized him more easily. 

Surprised at what he said, Jordyn shook her head.  “You’re forgiven, as long as nothing else comes toppling down on me,” she glanced up, glad to see the bottom of a book not poking over the edge.  He at least only dislodged the intended book, which sat by her feet now.  She leaned down, briefly, and lifted it up, cradling the very heavy, and dusty, book in her arms, looking at the title. 

“Pixie Smuggling Records, 1930-1950,” she said questioningly, hoping the dust was not getting all over her blouse.  “You must be a gofer,” she smirked, placing the book on the ledge.  “And what a dull task that must be.” 

Rémy couldn't help eyeballing the book as she picked it up, afraid she might run off with it or something equally disastrous. No matter how dusty it was, he'd still been sent to bring it back, and bring it back he must. Tentatively, he worked his arms through the gap in the shelf and grasped the other end of it, gently trying to pry it from her grasp. "I, um.....I need that." He sighed. "And yeah, it is a really dull task, but it's only part time. By day, I'm Rémy Sharp, bringer of coffee, but by night, I'm Rémy Sharp, dark wizard catcher. At least, that's how it works in theory." That was the idea, at any rate, but the arrangement had only worked out so-so thus far.

He glanced at her casually, an innocent enough look, but really he was trying to figure out what she was doing back here in the nethers of the library. The way she carried herself, and the way she was dressed, she could have been an employee of the ministry - somebody's classy-dressing secretary or the like. Surely there were people running around the building that he'd never seen before.

"You, on the other hand, have implied that you are not a gofer, so I'm not sure what you're doing wandering Outer Libraria, Miss....?" He left the question hanging, arching an eyebrow at her quizzically, giving her the opportunity to introduce herself and maybe satisfy his curiosity a bit.

"Grabby!" Jordyn exclaimed, almost amused, letting the book go.  She did not need it, she did not want it - and would never stoop to stealing it off of him for no reason other than to make his life miserable.  She smirked, "If you had just asked, I'd have been more than glad to surrender it.  You did do all of the hard work getting it," she smiled, "though I almost paid for it with my well being!" 

She raised her eyebrows at his introduction - amused.  Well, well.  Dark wizard hunter by night?  Sounded, to her, like the very people her father used to be in charge of cleaning up after - at least how he talked about them, but in much more glorified terms.  "Well, Mr. Rémy Sharp, I am glad to make your acquaintance. Though, I'm curious," she leaned toward the hole in the books, feeling a bit more daring than she might have were she somewhere she knew she would be again in any near future circumstance, "if that is only in theory; what is the reality?"

It was a sort of invincible feeling - having no ties and nothing to make it so she was being highly inappropriate.  Her nose wrinkled with an uncharacteristic smile, her perfectly painted and manicured fingers hanging on the ledge.

Her God-like feeling was smashed to the ground though, when he asked.  She, however, regained composure, and smiled.  "Just passing through," she said breezily, pushing herself off of the stack and starting to walk, in a direction she could hardly tell where, but perhaps, if she was lucky enough - or he, curious enough, might follow.

He would've been up for flirting games on any other occasion, but there was the tiniest ding of a warning bell in his head about....something, he wasn't sure what yet. Rem couldn't help inching back ever so slightly as her face pressed close through the window in the books. Both eyebrows shot up, practically grazing his hairline in alarm as he regarded her from a mere few inches away, not sure what to make of her....behavior. Not that it wasn't cute, the way her nose wrinkled when she grinned, but there was something off here and he wasn't quite sure what. He returned her smile with an uneasy grimace that might have passed for a grin in the right lighting.

"Well, in reality, I'm still working on the 'by night' part," he told her matter-of-factly.

Clearly, though, she didn't feel like sticking around and introducing herself, which only burned a firebrand of curiosity into his brain. A pert Just passing through and she was off down the opposite stack. He poked his head back through the hole, watching her go with an incredulous expression - who is she, and what in the bloody hell is going through her head? - before withdrawing to pick up his book. Hurrying off down his own row, he intercepted her at the end, swinging round the corner to lean casually against the end of the bookshelf - conveniently in her way.

"If you were trying to find your way out, Miss Just-Passing-Through, it's....ahem....that way," he told her nonchalantly, pointing over her head in the opposite direction. "Of course, it's a big library, and even the most seasoned ministry employee can sometimes forget where she's going."

Training, Jordyn realized.  Of course, that would make sense.  He barely looked like he had graduated before last week, let alone years ago.  She was curious that she did not recognize him, but that made this somewhat easier, she noted to herself.  She wouldn't be humiliated at a later date and certainly no one from Hogwarts had eyes hanging out in the back of the dustiest portion of the library that existed, she was sure.  She glanced up at the sign, "Analogues of History Mostly Forgotten."  That was not promising. 

But, she couldn't dwell on that.  Maybe it was a good omen (unlikely) that she was going in the right direction.  She kept an ear open though, and behind her, and to the side, heard the faint echoes of footfalls.  Unless it was one of the librarians come to breathe fire down their necks for disturbing the dust in the desolate corner, she was fairly sure it would be the sandy haired trainee coming round. 

She was vaguely surprised.  He was matter-of-fact, looked almost petrified when she leaned into the space between the stacks - apparently needing at least that much distance to be comfortable (as she usually would), and smiled like there was something unpleasant under his nose. 

Why he would follow after that reaction, was beyond her. 

Putting her hand on her hip, Jordyn flicked her hair over her shoulder, looking at him leaning and standing in her way.  He was not much taller than her, if at all, with her shoes on, though she could tell he might have a few inches on her, were she flat-footed.  Short.  Interesting.  She pretended to not look thankful, happy to see how he jerked his head in the opposite direction.  She'd remember that, for certain. 

"I suppose that's true," she smiled, taking a few steps back, her heels clicking on the floor almost ominously.  She might have lost face for a second, but she was not going to be outsmarted by someone.  "And I also suppose getting lost is a little less mortifying than an attempted pummeling, Mr. Sharp," she regained a bit of her certainty and smiled.

She turned and started to walk, "Tell me, is that standard auror training? Or do you frequently forget you wand when you require objects at a higher elevation?" 

As she turned and walked away, he raised a finger, opening his mouth as though to voice a retort - and then clamped it shut again. Her dismissive attitude left him with nothing clever to say immediately on the tip of his tongue. However, determined not to be outmaneuvered, he hurried after the young lady, scooting up to walk casually beside her.

"Funny thing about the, uh, wand," he explained with a grimace. "We have a bit of a....prank culture, if you will, in the office....things like that happen all the time. It'll turn up eventually, and besides, a bit of manual labor never hurt anybody. Of course," he added slyly, with a sidelong glance, "if you've ever been down to Level Two, I'm sure with a sharp enough eye you may have seen the evidence."

They passed through rows of bookshelves, dusty volumes stacked to the ceiling, but growing steadily less dusty as they meandered toward the front. Glancing up at the ceiling innocently, his hands folded behind his back, he said, "I suppose whichever Level you work for must be much more civilized, though, unlike us savages in Magical Law Enforcement. Who do you work for anyway?" Grinning mischievously, he glanced over to gauge her reaction as he asked, "It'd be nice to know whose office I should swing by if I ever wanted to , you know, pay a visit to the pretty mystery girl from the library."

"Except an unsuspecting bystander," she gave a teasing smile to his assessment of manual labor.  So, he was pranked too?  That sounded absolutely abysmal.  It was no wonder many Slytherins did not go into that office: from the sounds of it, it was like the horror stories that came out of the Gryffindor common room.  She would not enjoy that.  Too much dirty work - and if she had to maneuver that kind of treatment for three years, she would go absolutely insane. 

She couldn't help but smile though, as he walked along side her, making references to wherever she worked.  He was clever, trying to get her to admit to something she certainly couldn't - at least not without lying and embarrassing him beyond anything.  That would be humiliating, and though she had a propensity toward embarrassing those that she did not like - he seemed like a fine enough young man, and hadn't done anything to warrant being cruel.

At least nothing intentional...


"Lucky for you and yours, we need savages to deal with the savages," she smirked, her nose wrinkling in good humor.  She stopped walking though, when he asked where she worked, so he might drop by-  and anyone who called her pretty most assuredly received a boost in her book.  She almost blushed - almost, before recovering, reaching into her bag, pulling out a scrap piece of paper and a quill - always prepared.  "You know, it's highly improper to deal with personal business at work," she smiled, "But..." she drew out the word as she started to scribble out her address, "You can owl me."

She smiled and held out the paper in her hand, raising her eyebrows.

Rem took the note, trying not to look just an eensy bit disappointed; after all, getting a girl's number was generally considered an accomplishment, but her address? Why, that was like a gift from God above. In this particular instance, though, since he'd been aiming for something else, he felt more thwarted than anything, since he was not going to physically go to her house to find out who she was. It was funny, really - he could stalk suspects, criminals, and ex-cons with little to no remorse, but when it came to a young woman with a mysterious identity, he couldn't bring himself to do it. Maybe because it reminded him too much of the creeps who it was his job to arrest.

But now it was going to gnaw at him forever, not being able to figure out who she was or whether or not she actually worked at the Ministry. He suspected she didn't, but it was a matter of principle that not knowing for sure would annoy him to no end.

He scanned the piece of paper, then looked up at her again, his expression just a tad bit incredulous. "And who would I address my owl to? 'Miss Mysterious Young Lady?'" Not that he expected that would work; if he sent her a letter, he was probably going to have to start inventing names.

Actually, that might not be such a bad idea, he mused. Maybe she'd get so exasperated she'd owl him her actual name.

It felt very much like the sophisticated version of passing notes in second year.  YOu know, the ones in history of magic, "Do you like my friend? Circle Yes or No" type deals.  This was just a little more forward, and a lot riskier.  It was direct, no midddle man, and she certainly couldn't deny that it was done on her behalf - she did it herself!  He was cute though, if not a bit vexing, but she supposed that's what intrigued her, and he had to be smart - aurors were an elite group, even if she did question some of the choices for admittance from the previous years' graduates.  She supposed every department had a slow hiring year...

Whatever, not important.  She could only focus on the fact that she was amused, and could maybe look forward to an owl.  She was pleased when he took the note and looked at it - didn't just shove it in his pocket. 

Of course, that did not stop him from asking more questions.  If he had her full name, he could find out whether or not she worked here - and beyond that, could definitely find out she still had two years of Hogwarts left.  How baby-ish did that look?! 

She decided she would be just a little cryptic.  "Jordyn," she gave her first name only.  "And that's spelled with a y, by the way," she added in explanation.  She glanced down at her thin, silver watch on her wrist - She didn't know how long she had left wandering about before she got summoned via some kind of embarrassing methodology her father would find. 

"I look forward to hearing from you, Rémy," she smiled, "Good luck with those pixies."

"Well then, I suppose it was nice meeting you, Jordyn-with-a-Y. I'm glad we're already on a first-name basis," Rem laughed, "Since, you know, it usually works the other way 'round." He couldn't help poking a bit of fun one more time at the fact that she refused to give up her identity. It was a bit of a game, he supposed, and he'd lost this round. But of course, win or lose, it was how you played that mattered, and it had been a bit of fun stuck in the middle of an otherwise dull work day. He was grateful for that, at least.

He didn't miss the way she subtly glanced at her watch, as though she had somewhere to be - he debated following her, with the excuse of a friendly accompaniment on her way out. But then again, he knew when to cut bait and run. He suspected she wouldn't tell him anything else now, no matter how much he pried her.

So he folded the piece of paper carefully and tucked it in his jacket pocket for safekeeping. "I'll let you be on your way, then, back to whatever it is you were.....up to before we ran into each other," he told her, waggling his eyebrows comically. "And maybe next time we meet, you can tell me all about your department here at the Ministry," he added teasingly.

Turning slightly away as though to go, he glanced down at his book....and realized that, in a hurry, he'd gotten the wrong one.

"Fantastic," he grumbled sarcastically to himself, staring down the long, dusty rows of the book stacks once more.

"Maybe," she offered, flashing a bright smile over her shoulder.  "Until then, you'll just have to imagine!" she called out, earning her a sharp glare from one of the women in the front.  She was old, she probably got angry about everything.  She wasn't thinking to much on it, really; besides, it wasn't as though she would be back in enough time for that woman to recognize her.  It was a beautiful thing, really. 

And exitting the library, going into the atrium, she looked around, relieved to see her father fixing his cuff links, looking impatient.  "Daddy!" she called out, after making sure she wasn't followed out of the library by the cute auror, and smiled.  "Sorry," she looked her sweetest at his harsh glance, immediately softened by her pleasant smile, "I was just exploring a bit, I hope you weren't waiting long." 

She was lucky her father loved her as much as he did, and he sighed, leading her to the floo.  He did not look as upset as she anticipated, and seemed to be talking pleasantly enough... maybe things were looking up!

[I believe this is the end of this thread! PM if you'd like a new one! ]