 astronomizzle ♧ gryffinDORK | & the rest is drag ♣ #badluckDerf
The Hufflepuff was not entirely unfamiliar to this kind of work. Having assisted both mum and dad in various cleaning adventures including the restoration of certain herbology texts they had unveiled in yard sales or happened upon in old dusty bookshops. He had even had to help restore some paintings with his dad. Rare treasures his dad had stumbled upon and wanted to surprise his mum with for her birthday or some other occasion. So no one could honestly look at the manner in which he handled any of the objects in this room and not call him methodical and diligent - perhaps to his on detriment but these sorts of things DID take time and a steady hand. And, well, Derf was willing to put in the effort. Especially if there may be something useful to the school to be found in here. Perhaps a forgotten text on creatures?
As it turned out, the tome he had been carefully working the cover with - and was now applying a bit of polish with a sponge as a final touch - was not a tome at all but one a sort of medieval looking grimoire on defensive ritual magic. Runic based if some of the detailing on the cover was of any indication. Which, naturally made the Hufflepuff curious as to its contents....
...but no sooner had he finished applying some polish to the spine when the door to the room flew open and in walked Headmaster Scrimgeour. Blinking a few times, mostly to process, his curious blues drifted to behind the man where he saw Professor Noble standing. Sweet Scamander...this seemed a bit of overkill in supervising the cleaning of school property, didn't it? And if it was meant to shame the 16-year-old, well, it didn't. He was fully committed to the task at hand and the spotless book now in his possession was a testament to that.
And then his heart sunk. Reese Callum had been expelled from Hogwarts. Though, for the briefest of moments, he did wonder if that was the more merciful fate. His mouth twitched to say something, gaze shifting to his Head of House, but any thought he may have wished to voice died in the air as he exhaled.
Instead, with a heavy sigh of disappointment, he walked over to the appropriate shelf and made sure the spot was clean before setting the text there and returning to the pile to sort through some loose leaf pieces of parchment and scrolls - dust and moths clouding the air around him and causing him to cough uncomfortably.
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When you’re stuck in a moment and your spark has been stolen .................................................. ...........
this is our time to own it, so own it.....................................
baby we were born with fire and gold in our eyes |