Okay first off here Evangeline Zander Adair was MANY things including sometimes dimwitted and other times a hot mess, but he was definitely NOT a goodie-two-shoes, OKAY? Actually Zander Adair got himself into a GREAT deal of trouble whilst at Hogwarts, okay? He even got a boy killed once was that-- Actually, he didn't want to think about that. But the point here was that he was taking this VERY personally. Thank you very much.

"Ha!" he let out a very uncharacteristic laugh. "You're dating one of the goodie-two-shoes Prefects, aren't you?" Aka Benzi Rider. Yes, Zander was aware of the Hogwarts happenings too, okay? He went to school here. He KNEW things. Sometimes.

.... But what she had to say about Sophie was not okay. 'Cause now things really were personal.

"Is that what this is all about? 'Cause I can tell you for a fact that Sophie Brown's wanted to be Head Girl since before she even knew you," Also yes Sophie Brown was practically perfect, at least Evie could admit to that much. But AHEM. Was she PACKING??? WAIT NO ZANDER WASN'T DONE YET, "'Cause believe it or not her life doesn't revolve around you. But I think it's stupid to throw away such a good friendship because of a badge."

Okay, now he was done. And she could pack if she wanted to. Ahem. Also aforementioned Sophie Brown would most likely not be happy that this conversation was happening. And like hopefully they wouldn't get kicked out of the library for this because Zander still had to find books to study ahem.

"A girl not as good at it as Miss Sophie Brown." Rooney's response was quick and full of his heartfelt intention. Neither the girl or Miss Sophie Brown was here so no feelings would be hurt by his comment. "I didn't care to find her name, but..." Rooney slid another yearbook across. "It's in there." And Rooney wasn't going to look in that one unless there was something he needed to look at. He wasn't sure that he wanted to pay attention to someone who hadn't kept their badge. He DID want to know why the badge had been given to Miss Sophie Brown (Head Girl of Hogwarts), though. And why it hadn't in the first place when she was so much wonderful in an individual human being.

... Ew

Rooney made a face, and snapped shut the yearbook he was reading himself. "Yes, yes. It is. Her boyfriend is the Head Boy and he doesn't deserve her, we're all very aware of that." And yes, Rooney had spotted him further along the library in a discussion with Miss Evangeline, self-proclaimed Head Babe and seventh year Ravenclaw with an ego problem and a lack of relationship motivation with others.

Yes, he also paid attention.

Apparently not, if she had been so easily replaceable. Oliver grabbed the yearbook and flipped through the pages until he found the one with the prefects. Gryffindor...no. Hufflepuff, and there was Ravenclaw. The boy prefect was someone named Gabriel Banner. That wasn't the current prefect, right? Wasn't his name 'Benzi' or something? Whatever, that wasn't important. There was the girl prefect, not Sophie Brown but a fifth year named Coral-Bay. Huh, Oliver had never met the girl. Maybe she didn't attend Hogwarts anymore?

What was the head boy's name again? Zander, yes? Oliver wasn't really familiar with most of the prefects except the ones of his own house - Caleb and Dot. But Zander was a Gryffindor, prefect of Ellery's house. He seemed pretty cool, but apparently this boy did not think so. Um, apparently they were not all aware of that. Oliver did not really care about the head couple's relationship. That was not his problem.

"How old was the youngest prefect?" How old was this boy? Only a year or two older than Oliver. If he wanted to be prefect, he probably had to wait a while.

Evangeline rolled her eyes. "Obviously." And Benzi wasn't always a goodie-two shoes, but he had his moments. It was CUTE on him. Not on the rest of the lot though. Evie left that at that and zipped up her backpack.

She knew very well that Sophie had wanted to been Head Girl since the day she was born. That wasn't the point. She ALSO knew that Sophie's life didn't revolve around her, and she had never expected it to. But the girl's satisfaction of her own success came from beating Evangeline whenever possible. And it wasn't even necessary! The girl was going into WANDMAKING, not law enforcement like Evie was! She didn't have to show off like that! Evie huffed out a sigh and slung the pack onto her back. "It's not about the stupid badge, Zander. And if your tiny Gryffindor pea-brain can't understand that, I'm not gonna waste my time and argue with you." And that was that.

EVIE OUT.

The youngest? Rooney shrugged, using his wand to send the pile of yearbooks back to the shelf they had been on previously, including the one that the Slytherin had just been reading over. "I don't know." But he was going to find out, whether it took him a few months to delve through details and the like. "Definitely not a second year, though." Which meant that it was definitely not him. Did age really matter in this, though? He did suppose that a young prefect would have very little sway with older students.

No matter, though.

It wasn't his problem.

YET.

With a smile, he gathered the rest of his things and stood up. "It's about time to get some food, so I'm going to go clean up. I'll see you around." Unless he wanted to join him for food...? Was that weird? Did they even have anything more to talk about?

Obviously. Okay so she was calling her boyfriend a boring, goody-two shoes? Right. Well, Zander could see why Benzi saw the appeal. Clearly.

Merlin.

The huffing and sighing was a bit dramatic though.... Well okay, this whole entire conversation was a little dramatic and maybe Zander Adair was a little to blame for that. Or a lot to blame for that. Actually, technically it was his fault 'cause he was the one that walked over and everything. But he'd argue that it was entirely HER fault for creating this mess in the first place. So there. Point proven.

.... It's not about the stupid badge? Actually, Zander was sure that it was ALL about the stupid badge. And he did NOT have a tiny Gryffindor pea-brain, THANK YOU VERY MUCH! "The only time you're wasting is with the stupid drama you're brewing with Sophie!" he called out after her.

Ahem. Well uh, how was he supposed to study now? ... Also, had someone said his name?

In the many months since he had started living in the Hogwarts castle, Daxton had found it increasingly easier to claim armchairs or tables to himself and not be bothered by anyone else. In fact, most people (not everyone, unfortunately, but most people) tended to give him something of a wide berth, which he found quite favourable, especially here in the library. Apparently, he was doing something very right.

He was sat at one of the tables now, with a variety of books on a range of topics, though most were from the Defence Against the Dark Arts section of the library, spread out across the surface of the work space. None of them were for homework. Scribbling away neatly in a new notebook, Daxton would occasionally look up and consult one text or another, before making notes, amendments, or writing out lengthy abstracts.

After some time, Daxton leaned away from the books and stretched out his back. Pushing his hair out of his eyes, where it had the annoying tendency to fall these days, the Ravenclaw picked up his textbook and reviewed what he had written. It was difficult, about as difficult as he had expected, trying to think up an entirely new spell. The mechanics, the theory, the possible practical dangers - much more difficult considering he could not physically test the spell to see how it worked, given he could not say any incantations, though that simply meant he had more time to work out the theory as absolutely as possible. Not that he was stupid enough to just try a spell of his own invention without putting a lot of work into it, of course.

It was about time for a break from that particular task, Daxton thought, and after taking a moment to rub at his stinging eyes (he had been working in here for quite some time, and though he loved to read and research, it tended to take its toll), he picked up a book from off to his right. Pulling his feet up onto his chair - they were not muddy, as he was not wearing shoes, nor socks - Daxton got comfortable and began reading through the chapters on Legilimency and Occlumency. He had read the entire scores of times already, and had known the text by heart after the very first read through, but that made not an iota of difference.

Usually, Benzi preferred to study either outside or in the common room. He checked the books out of the library and took a few minutes finding someplace relatively quiet around to castle where he put his stuff down and read. He didn't like the absolute silence of the library, it made his skin crawl and he always felt as if someone was watching him. However, when it was time to do some mock exams, the library was unfortunately the perfect spot. Silent like an exam room would be, the sound of quills scratching on parchments just as distracting as it would be in his NEWTs. He'd done his OWLs by himself, NEWTs would be different and he needed to get used to sharing a room with others while taking exams.

This is exactly what brought Benzi to the library today, as he'd found some old Potions NEWT papers in the common room and, naturally, nicked them for his own use. He'd put them back once he was done. He was searching for a free table when his eyes landed on the Daxton kid and- wait, where those DADA books? He'd recognise all those volumes everywhere, he'd read through probably ninety percent of the DADA section his first three months at the castle.

Well, this could be a nice in for him. He'd been meaning to try and get the kid to open up for months now. Slowly, Benzi took a seat across from Daxton and put down his things. He was halfway into reaching for a quill to write him a message - yes, he paid attention, he knows that's Prince's preferred method of communication - when he thought better of it and waited instead for the boy to react to him.

There was only so much Daxton could learn from these few chapters. He had only learnt about these types of magic by what some might call luck, but what he called thoroughness. When you made it your business to read everything you could possibly get your hands on, you tended to find little snippets of information about very interesting things. If he had not made the effort to start working his way through every book in this library, Daxton did not know how long it would have taken for him to discover either Occlumency or Legilimency. Precisely why he could not find any books that actually would have taught him how to learn it, he did not know, but all he had right now were a few chapters with a very basic, vague summary and history.

There was little chance he would be able to actually buy a book on the subject any time soon, so Daxton was limited. As his eyes scanned across the text at high speed, he wondered, not for the first time, if he might have any luck in the restricted section of the library. There were probably ways of getting a book out of there without permission; he could use his status as a first year to his adv-...

Someone was at his table. Daxton had seen them approach in his periphery (and tensed instinctively), but expected them to simply walk on by. So when the student went ahead and sat at his table, the Ravenclaw looked up in surprise.

And stared.

Rider. The less appealing one, at that. The badged one. Daxton did not say anything to him (obviously), nor did he move at all. Only sat there and stared at the prefect, holding his book up between them, though now it felt more like a practical shield than a theoretical defence text.

What did he want? And, more importantly, what did he think he was doing?

It was strange seeing him without the earmuffs, they'd sort of become a fixed item on the boy all the times he'd seen him. Probably because the library was quieter with less chance of people yelling their heads off about this or that. Also less chance of Peeves appearing in your face singing some Ye Olde ballad which, granted, could get very loud. Benzi briefly wondered how Daxton had reacted to Peeves the first time he saw him. Must not have been a pleasant experience. Kind of like meeting Charlotte Kettleburn for the first time. His ears have never been the same.

Ah, he'd been spotted. Squinting at the title, Benzi couldn't recall anything particularly exciting from the book so he nodded and tried for a small smile that probably wouldn't get reciprocated. How Suri liked this kid was beyond him; they were polar opposites. After a moment, he reached for his quill and parchment, and quickly scratched out a message which he then slid over to Daxton's side of the table.

You interested in Defense Against the Dark Arts?

The smile was not reciprocated, though whether it was because Daxton Prince was simply not a boy who smiled or because he harboured any ill-feeling towards the prefect was not evident. As it was, Daxton simply went on staring in that deadpan way of his, though he did narrow his eyes an infinitesimal amount.

He did not go on reading straight away, convinced that the badged boy before him was here for something, and not simply to work at the same table. People tended not to come anywhere near Daxton unless they had some specific motive, unless they wanted something, or wanted to to something.

Still Daxton watched Rider as he started to write something, and perhaps predictably pushed the message across the desk towards him. Had he not been so focused on staring suspiciously at him, Daxton might have rolled his eyes; he could hear just fine, too well in fact. So many people defaulted to writing messages down for him to read, it was strange. Helpful, in a way, as it gave him the opportunity to see their handwriting, commit it to memory, but that advantages stopped there.

After a moment, Daxton slowly lowered his book, and reached out to pull the message closer. He read it, and paused.

Really? Really? Was he interested in Defence Against the Dark Arts? Oh, no, he was just sat here surrounded by and reading Defence books because he had nothing better to do. Attended Defence Against the Dark Arts class and Duelling Club purely for the heck of it. In fact, he often devoted large amounts of time to studying topics he could not stand or did not care about.

As the silent sarcasm coursed through his entire being and his very essence, Daxton picked up the pen he had been using (a normal, non-magical, cheap biro) and wrote a simple response underneath.

'No.'

Sarcasm, of course, not that anyone ever picked up on it when Daxton was behind it, though the return of the deadpan stare when he nudged the parchment back across the table might have given it away.

Benzi thought himself a somewhat competent judge of character. Back when his life wasn't crammed into a tight schedule of sleeping, socialising and studying he'd had time to people watch and learn their mannerisms. As a kid just arrived in London he'd been so fascinated by just how foreign everything was, and he was getting that same feeling now trying to get a grasp on Daxton Prince. Nothing about this kid made sense, if "kid" was even the right word. Perhaps he was a three hundred year old child vampire who'd been glamoured to look like a human because he was so utterly bored with life that he felt going to Hogwarts would spice things up.

Or, more likely, Daxton Prince was downright the most grumpy unreachable ungrateful little brat Benzi had ever met, with an aversion to sound and people and smiling. Seemed more plausible than a glamoured vampire. Ungrateful, silent and the human embodiment of vagueness. That particular quality drove him rather mad.

But, now was not the time. He was trying here. Raising his eyebrow at the "No" that had been tossed back at him, Benzi otherwise remained impassive and straightened in his chair. Fine. He took out his books and his quills and for the most part seemed to have dropped the conversation while still casually studying Prince's behaviour out the corner of his eye. Finally, he grabbed another piece of parchment and took out his wand. With a quick murmur and a complex bit of wandwork, the parchments appeared to remain unchanged as he slid the written one back towards Daxton.

Perhaps showing off will do the trick. That, and Benzi did just like showing off a bit. He'd mastered this spell recently and had been waiting for an opportunity to try it out.

Picking up his quill, Benzi dipped in in ink the allowed it to drip down onto his parchment, knowing identical blotches would appear on the parchment Daxton had too. Then he wrote, "Why do you like it?"

As far as Daxton was concerned, that was the matter dealt with. He had yet to learn how to tell when someone asked a question with the intention of angling for a conversation, and to him, once a question was asked and answered, that was the extent of the interaction. Rider was getting on with... whatever he was doing as well, so that seemed to be that.

He turned his attention back to his book again and stared intently at the words, though he could not focus on reading with the prefect still lingering nearby. With his eyes fixed on one point on the page, Daxton kept track of Rider in his periphery, incredibly suspicious as to why the older boy was still there, and what exactly he wanted... what exactly he was up to. He doubted any harmless intention.

And then, suddenly, there was that parchment, slid back over the table to him. Automatically, Daxton glanced up and looked at it, but it looked no different since he had passed it back. Until, that was, two ink splotches suddenly appeared, followed by words, as though being written by an invisible hand. But Daxton was no idiot, he could guess what was happening here. He looked up at Rider, and sure enough, he was writing on a new piece of parchment, the exact words that were showing up for Daxton.

Interesting... some form of protean charm, perhaps? Or something else. Complex, whatever it was, especially if it worked both ways...

As to the question, answering it was not a simple matter. Daxton considered the parchment for a long while. He was not one to reveal much about himself, no matter what, particularly any details about his life, what he liked, and why he liked it. Too much could be gleaned from even the slightest detail, and he was very careful about who knew what about him. It was why he allowed Char to tell such fanciful stories about him.

After a very long, drawn out moment, Daxton wrote his response, then, keeping hold of his pen, he leaned back in his chair once more and glanced across at Rider's parchment to see if his words did indeed appear over there. And if they did not? Well, then he would be far from impressed.

'Why would I not like it?'

Answering a question with another question was, Daxton had found, the surest way to frustrate someone who was trying to find out specific information. It kept things vague too, which he liked, and, as such, he gave next to nothing away about himself. No extraneous details. No careless slip-ups. A perfect answer.

This kid thought a lot.

... He didn't like it.

Putting the enchanted parchment just above his book, Benzi settled down with the stolen mock exam and began reading through the questions. At first he was excited as most of the first, simpler questions he knew intuitively and from what he'd already studied. The complex questions though... Sigh. He was far from declaring himself all done with Potions revision. Great.

He was in the middle of trying to figure out why the mix of two specific ingredients were used in a particular potion when he noticed movement and looked up to see Daxton writing with his muggle pen. Glancing at his own parchment, Benzi watched as the words formed in his handwriting. Pen ink looked very strange on parchment, he observed, and he wondered why Daxton didn't just get himself a self inking quill. True they were a bit more expensive but they were worth every sickle. Perhaps he didn't know they existed? Shame.

His answer made Benzi internally groan. MERLIN'S BEARD, this kid. He was like a brick wall. Good thing Benzi was feeling patient today. "It's dangerous and deals with dark magic," he wrote back, then paused as suddenly the correct answer in Potions came to him. Benzi moved to jot it down quickly because Daxton or no Daxton he needed to pass his NEWTs, then with a final dotted 'i', returned to his written conversation. This was almost like muggle messaging. "I can help." There. Look. Vague. Just like Daxton.

Back to Legilimency, back to puzzling out just how he would ever learn about such a thing. Daxton pored over the information in his book, and though his attention was still half on Rider, still sat across the table from him, he was fortunate in that he had already read the passage enough times that it did not really need his full attention anyway.

First and foremost, Legilimency required use of a spell, either verbal or non-verbal, and that would be the hurdle Daxton would first need to pass before he could even think of trying to master that particular branch of magic. Being a boy of few, or, as the case had been for some time now, no words, the actual practical application of magic was something he had yet to achieve in a controlled environment. That was, with specific spells. Daxton was able to wordlessly zap people with his wand, and before even coming to Hogwarts he had started to control his 'accidental' magic without even one of those. But official spells, pre-established magic, that was yet to be seen.

Perhaps he would go back to Dakest, ask the man to teach him how to cast a proper non-verbal spell. Then, once he had mastered that, Daxton could move onto Legilimency. It would give him the extra satisfaction then, if the one who had refused to teach him what he originally wanted to know could then be manipulated into passing on the tools that would enable him to learn it all by himself. Yes. It would be perfect.

With that decision fixed firmly in his mind (though of course he would continue to research on his own, because there was always the possibility of getting turned away by Dakest again), Daxton turned his attention back to the parchment again as new words started to appear. And then... stopped appearing.

He glanced up again, in time to see Rider writing something on his own, unenchanted parchment, and Daxton's suspicion spiked significantly. What was he writing? Something about Daxton? Observations? Revelations? Plots and plans and evil deeds? Daxton could not see from his angle, though he did try, lifting up in his seat and craning his neck none too subtly, but saw only mention of the properties of a certain potion. Further investigation told him that that was the subject Rider was currently studying, so he relaxed - for lack of a better term - back into his seat, and looked at the parchment in front of him once more.

'Dangerous' and 'dark magic'. Sure. Whatever. Though those were hardly arguments against liking the subject. If anything, they made it infinitely more interesting. The study of it was not so dangerous. If anything, it helped one to keep out of danger.

And, speaking of 'help', that one word stuck out more than any in the rest of Rider's message. Clearly the prefect had not gotten the memo that Daxton Prince was not a boy who ever needed help. He was far too self-reliant and, in his mind, far too independent for any such thing.

The reply on the parchment came quickly, short and sweet.

'Good for you.'

Perhaps he could have done with Rider's help. Perhaps it could have been beneficial, especially in that he had already been refused help by the one expert in the castle, and a seventh year with detailed knowledge was the next best thing. But Daxton was stubborn, he was determined to rely on nobody. It was a lonely existence, but a safe one, and he liked it that way. And that was what he frequently told himself.