Through The Stacks

Benjamin was certain he'd left his research in the library.  There wasn't much written about the history of the Aurora-Borealis school, but that was why Benjamin was working on his own book.  He was hoping that one day it would be as good as Hogwarts, A History (although that was setting himself a high standard).  He'd spent a good hour reading and researching, taking notes the whole time. That, of course, had meant a mess of scribbled pages all over the table.  He'd brought a folder with him to put everything in but hadn't managed it.  He had gotten up to put back one of the books he'd borrowed (the librarian hadn't been in or he would have left it for her to shelve; as it was, he knew his way around a library well enough to figure out where to put it back). Then, of course, like the forgetful fool that he was, he had wandered out of the library and off to lunch, completely forgetting his notes.  He'd remembered afterwards and hurried back here to retrieve them.  He had to get them back while he still somewhat remembered what table he'd been at. Ordinarily he wouldn't have run, but this was important. 

He heard a voice around a corner. "This is unaccept..." Oh dear. That would be the librarian, he was sure. Maybe she didn't like things being left out in her library. He'd seen her briefly over the course of his time at the school but had never caught her name.  He rounded the corner and spotted a blonde woman with his research papers in her hands. She looked angry and the way she was clutching the papers was sure to damage them.

"Please," he said, panting a little, "be careful with those! That's my book! Please!"

Ben smiled as the woman handed him his papers.  He smoothed them carefully and folded them, putting them into his sweater pocket.  "Thank you," he said.  "You didn't mix them up.  I'm afraid I did that.  I'm very disorganized.  I'm Benjamin Morrow.  I teach History of Magic.  It's nice to meet you, Miss..."  He hesitated, her last name having already slipped his mind.  He should remember it.  It had sounded familiar.  He searched his brain but the name seemed to have fallen through a hole. "Miss Leandra," he finished, grinning sheepishly. 

"I'm sure you'll be seeing a lot of me," he said, "and probably cleaning up a few more of my messes, unfortunately.  I'm working on a book about the history of the school in my spare time and the library is a much nicer place to work than my office.  My desk is already littered with papers and I haven't even taught my first lesson yet.  The last thing I need is to lose some of these in that mess." He patted his pocket with the precious papers. "I'll try to remember to pick everything up when I work in here from now on, but feel free to remind me if I make a mess."  

Benjamin smiled back. "I hope I'll love teaching," he said. "I'm brand new to it, I'm afraid. I've spent the years since my own school days as a researcher. But I do like children and I love history, and I was so interested in the history of this school that when I saw a job being offered, I took it. I'm hoping to make History of Magic more interesting. I know most professors--my own included--tend to teach it in a dull way. I prefer to make history come alive! There are so many amazing people and events in our history and I want to make people aware of them. I want to make my students think and ask questions and look for answers."

He was gesturing now, his eyes alight with the spark that always came into them when he talked about his favorite subject. "Think about it," he said, in full lecturing mode now. "If you brew a potion, wouldn't it be more interesting if you knew who invented it, or to find out that Merlin created your favorite charm? That is the kind of knowledge we can gain from history and yet no one seems to know about it, or care about it.  I'm hoping to change that. I'm planning on sending a lot of my students in here to do their own research.  That's another thing wizards don't do very often.  We tend to trust to tradition to tell us things instead of finding them out for ourselves.  Don't you think so?"

"I think you'll be pleasantly surprised if you do," Ben said, still eager to discuss his subject.  "Backstory, as you say, is important.  You might even say it defines us.  Especially in the wizarding world.  Our values and traditions are defined by our backstory.  Some wizards care a great deal about it.  Why do you think there are purebloods who look down on Muggleborns?  Because those Muggleborns do not have the backstory those purebloods would like.  Things have changed, of course, in recent years, but there is still that prejudice out there, backed up by the history of those who hold it.  Muggleborns like myself are criticized because our families don't have the history that others do.  We can't trace our ancestors back to the time of Merlin--at least not in magical families. We're the newcomers and some wizards just don't like having us around."

He paused to catch his breath and realized he'd been rambling.  He flushed a bit.  "I'm sorry," he said.  "I've been babbling, haven't I?  Please tell me I haven't been boring you."

"I have been boring you," Ben said, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. He might be forgetful but he was not unobservant. He'd noticed some of her body language while he was talking. The crossed arms were definitely a sign of boredom. Her smile wasn't natural. The finger on the lip must be a librarian's signal, a shushing gesture. The message was clear. He'd let his passion and his mouth run away with him and she was clearly tired of listening to his nonsense. It was time for him to stop talking. He gave her an apologetic smile.

"It's your turn," he said. "What are you passionate about?" She'd said something about her interests a few minutes about. What were they again? He flexed his fingers a few times, trying to remember, but couldn't. Something about...potions, maybe? Focus, Ben. Listen to what she tells you so you can remember it. Focus. He shoved his hands in his sweater pockets and looked at Leandra.

It took Ben a moment to figure out exactly what Leandra meant about not using Transfiguration and why her hair had suddenly changed. He fiddled with some of the things in his pockets as he tried to make a connection. What had she said earlier? She'd mentioned potions and charms...she'd mentioned transfiguration before...she'd said...Metamorphmagus! That was it. She was a metamorphmagus. She could change her appearance at will. It all made sense now.

He relaxed for a moment, then realized he'd been staring at her with his mouth open. He closed it quickly. His brain managed to think through the rest of what she'd said after changing her hair. She was still looking at him. Of course. She was waiting for him to say something. He pulled his hands out of his pockets and said, "I think that's a very good philosophy. I'm afraid my passions are occasionally very narrow. I'm hoping that teaching will give me another thing to be passionate about. Besides history, I mean."