(1939-01-31) Time Out to Study
Details for Time Out to Study
Summary: Silas commandeers the Study area for some quiet reading, only to find the area doesn't stay commandeered for long.
Date: 31 January, 1939
Location: Study Area, Hogwarts

Evening, after dinner. It's been a long day of classes for Silas, and most of his homework is done. Still, the Slytherin common room was a bit rowdier than he wanted to deal with, or at least had been when he stopped there, so the choice was made to find someplace a little more serene. Not the library, with its threatening shushes… but the study area, as ill used as it could be, seemed perfect. A chair has been dragged away from the larger tables, and he now sits in it, in a corner, a large, hardbound book in his hands.

"I hope you don't mind some company, Meliflua," the words are from Tarquin. The common room, while not as rowdy was particular full today, surprising for a Hogsmeade weekend. But then again, people might be returning from the night out, or about to head out. Tarquin had decide not to go out yet, so instead, he found himself here at the study area.
Tarquin sits down at a table, not far away from Silas, and sets his own book on it. "How goes? And what are you studying?"

Silas looks up from his book, smiling, and lifts his gaze up from his book before he responds, "Bulstrode. No, actually, I don't mind at all. You're neither a first year wishing they could be away with the older students, nor a prattling git, which means you make for company I can completely deal with at the moment." A grin, to evidence the jest.
"And it goes well enough. A moment of mere pleasure, to be honest," He lifts the book, which appears to be the seventh and final novel in the Cornelius Malfoy series he had once mentioned: The Casket of the Blushing Bride. "No study for me. Not this weekend, at least. Being utterly and unapologetically selfish, in fact."

Tarquin blinks a few times at Silas, he opens his mouth, but all that comes out is a quiet, "What?" A pause. "You have a firstie stalker?" He asks, curious and amused as he nods to the other boy, and reaches for his books.
"I'm trying to do some catching up. Need to take care of a few things this weekend," he explains his Ancient Runes book. "But some 'me' time is never a bad thing."

At Tarquin's question, Silas laughs, albeit subdued due to the environment. He looks back down to his book, "I wish. No. I actually have taken it upon myself to mentor and tutor a number of the first years… and even a few second years. Normally, I enjoy their presence. Except on Hogsmeade Weekends, when suddenly, if I stay here, I'm one of the few older students remaining. They can get clingy."
He turns the page in his book, quiet for a moment, "I'd offer to help with runes, but I'm afraid I'm absolute rubbish there."

"Ah," Tarquin nods in understanding. That made sense. He smiles a little thinking of Adam. "I'm doing of our," Hufflepuff's, "firsties a favor and getting some candy for him to give to a friend as a gift. I haven't had to deal with them getting too clingy."
He looks at his book again and smiles. "No worries, I'm actually very good at Ancient Runes, I just want to review a few things. It's a very important subject for curse-breakers. Or those, striving to become one." A pause. "So who are you tutoring?"

Silas pauses to think, "In actual studies?" And then he begins to list off a surprisingly long list of first years, fourteen to be precise. Pureblood, half, and Muggle-born all alike, and Houses don't seem to matter in it either, it would seem, although Madeline isn't mentioned in that list.
And then he hears Tarquin's intended career path, and whistles appreciatively. "You've more drive then I, then. I appreciate the efforts required in those studies… but fear it simply not in my… temperament."

Tarquin listens, impressed. He grins. "Are you intending to become a professor? Because it sure sounds like it," he muses. "And I don't think you would be bad at it either," he notes then. And he does note the lack of Madeline in the list. "What about Evans?" He asks, curious.
He nods to the last words. "It is hard work, difficult and sometimes annoying," he admits with a faint smile. "But it's what I've always wanted to do. My father is a curse-breaker, and I've always wanted to follow him on that."

At this, Silas shakes his head, "That's right. You hadn't joined us when I outlines to the others my own plans. They're nothing so great as that. I… enjoy helping people. And, to speak as a Slytherin, it also means I'm remembered as the older student who helped them when they first came here. Such coinage can be quite useful in the future," again, said with a tone that seems slightly jesting. "No, not a professor." Yet he doesn't explain beyond that.
"It sounds like you have a good relationship with your father." A chuckle, "It's a good profession, and much needed, I'm sure."

"You're an interesting Slytherin," Tarquin muses and then smiles, lightly shrugging. "Although I imagine I'd have been of similar temperament if I had been sorted there." A pause. "I wanted to be sorted there, but, Hufflepuff is where I was destined to fit in." He smiles at this, not bothered anymore.
And then, there's laughter. "I wouldn't… call it a good relationship. No, not all." There's a tinge of nostalgia in his voice at this, and he shrugs. "It is what it is."

"I get my temperament from the Nanny who raised me, and she was a Hufflepuff. Only my manipulative and scheming nature comes from my blood. And that I try only to use for the good of others," Silas offers, with a grin. "And trust me… the politics in that House alone… you should be glad of where you were sorted."
He looks at his book again, but there's something dark behind his eyes with his own mention of fathers, and the reply that Tarquin offers. "A relationship of any sort is still one to appreciate, I assure you."

"I'm happy where I am. It is where I belong," Tarquin says. Then there's a light shrug. "My father, not so much. Our branch in the Bulstrode family was all Slytherin, that is, until me. And then there's my sister. Granted, our mother was Hufflepuff," he shrugs again and offers a small smile. "Now… it doesn't quite matter what I accomplish, in the eyes of my father, I'll always be a failure."
He considers the Slytherin's words. "I suppose. I also think a change of subject is in order. Siblings, do you have any?"

Glad of the offer, Silas nods, "Actually, I don't. I was an only child. Frankly, little more than an afterthought to continue the line. My mother and father are a match of lineage and convenience, little more, and once her duty was done, she wanted no more of it. My siblings have been the quill and parchment, and my books."

Tarquin nods. "I have a sister that is everything to me. And a brother that I love dearly and the two of them hate each other," he smirks and shrugs. "To be fair, I suppose my brother isn't exactly thrilled with me," he admits. "But it doesn't change the fact that he is my brother." There's a moment where Tarquin studies Silas and nods.
"So Evans wasn't on your list. Did something happen?"

Silas blinks, "Oh, yes… I did fail to answer that question, didn't I? To be honest? She's never asked for it, and frankly when she denied my offer to walk into the Hall with her, I figured her distrust of me was simply to great to win past. I'm Slytherin. Gryffindors tend to be the least likely to reach out to me."

"Hmm. Curious," Tarquin observes, but doesn't push for more information. Rather, he opens his book, going to a marked page and eyeing the text there for a few moments. "She and I had… heart to heart?" He says, now glancing at Silas. "I think we understand each other a little better, at least."

Silas nods again, "We've not really had a chance to talk since. She seemed so upset by the whole situation…" A shrug, and he turns the page of his own book again. "Does this mean that she understands that we don't all think she's some bottom-dweller just because she's a Muggle-born?"

Tarquin considers Silas' question. "I believe so. Or at least, she understands we don't mean malice," he says. "I tried to explain to her the reasoning behind my beliefs, and while I don't apologize for those, I apologized for hurting her. It wasn't my intention."
He shrugs. "Whatever the case, she seemed better and was friendly, so, I think I got through to her."

"When you come from such opposing cultures, I guess it's easy to apply your own culture's logic to situations." Silas offers then, thinking a moment. "The statement, and it's impact, was exactly what the moment called for. Especially with him. It's good to know she at least is closer to understanding it."

"Closer to understanding it? I don't know," Tarquin admits quietly. "More like accepting. I… can't blame her for how she feels. But I think she's come to accept that regardless of how smart she is, how bright she is. She will have to fight harder than most others." A pause and he exhales. "And she will have to prove many wrong."

Silas quirks his mouth slightly at that, "Acceptance is better than naught, I guess. But yes… if she wishes to climb, she's a long road ahead of her. But she's a quick one. I think she'll do well enough. And if nothing else, learning will be the impetus to do just as you say."

Tarquin slowly nods tapping a finger to his chin. "I think she'll do great. If she applies herself," he faintly smiles and then shrugs. "It's in her hands now. We'll see how she does, I guess." He grows thoughtful for a moment. "I should probably head back to the common room now. I promised my sister that I'd help her with her Arithmancy homework." He stands up, picking his book. "It was good to see you, Meliflua. Let me know if you need hep with those kids you're mentoring."

Silas offers Tarquin another smile, nodding lightly, "It was good to see you as well. I'll keep you in mind."

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