searching for something..., open

[MCKINNON, marlene]

Marlene sighed as she scanned her room. Where was it? Her bag was emptied on her bed and the contents of her trunk were strewn about the room. Her journal was missing. Again. Marlene wrote in her journal at least once a day, she loved keeping a record of her life. When she was sad she could read back to the fun and happy memories she wrote down, and when she was in a typically nostalgic mood she could read back and see the things she had lived through.

But as consistent as Marlene was in writing in her journal she was equally consistent with losing it. And it would turn up in the oddest places. Behind a stairwell in the common room, in the potions classroom storage cabinet, and just about any random place you could set a small leather bound black book; her journal has been. Sighing in frustration Marlene ran her hand through her blonde hair and left her room. Once in the halls of Hogwarts Marlene was unsure of where she was going, but her eyes were peeled for her journal at every turn.

Checking in the classrooms she had been in Marlene began to get more and more frustrated. She wasn't too worried about someone reading her journal, her handwriting was atrocious and there wasn't really anything too incriminating in there as she had no big juicy secrets, but it was just so important to her to have. It was her security blanket of sorts. Oh, well there were some secrets in there. Shoot.

What other class did she have today? Oh! She had been studying earlier in the library! Turning on her heel Marlene ran towards one of her favorite places at Hogwarts. She had been working on a History of Magic essay and perhaps when she was putting her books away her diary had gotten mixed in among them. It wouldn’t be the first time it happened, the librarian Madam Pince had found her diary on many occasions and held on to it for the Ravenclaw. Maybe that happened again.

Well, maybe someone did find it. Someone else. That could be ok possibly. Her name was at least legible in it. Not much else was. But someone could find it and try and read it and maybe read it wrong. Then they would think poorly of her, start rumors, oh a whole mess of things. Marlene wrote opinions about people, just small thoughts and observations, but nothing malicious or cruel. At least in her eyes, but some people are just... sensitive.

Stopping in to the library she began to search. An hour later she was still searching. She sighed feeling a tear start to push its way out of her eye and angrily brushed it away. Marlene hadn't cried in a ages and was not about to start now. But the idea of losing her journal was upsetting; she couldn't help but get emotional over it.

"Damn it, where could it be?" she muttered pounding a book shelf lightly with her fist. Pacing back and forth she stopped against the opposite wall and slid down it until she was sitting. Her long legs were sprawled in front of her ready to trip anyone who came around the corner too fast and she looked like hell. Ok she was an emotional wreck she was allowed to, but Marlene just didn't care. Sighing she blearily rubbed her eyes, wondering what possibly could have happened to it.

Opening her eyes she looked across the library. From where she was sitting on the floor she could see tables of students working, their legs and bags sprawled everywhere. Scanning for the leather bound black book Marlene nearly choked seeing it resting near a pair of shoes that were alone at a table. Blue eyes wide she sat up and glanced around. No one was really paying attention; maybe she could just crawl and get it! Hastily before she could lose her nerve Marlene began to make her way to her journal, her prize. She made it to her destination unscathed and snatched the book happily from the floor. Victory!

“Yes!” she whispered as she quickly sat up on her knees hugging the book to her chest. Unfortunately she misjudged her own height as usual and a loud THUNK was heard as her head smacked the table above her. “Ow ow ow ow! Bloody hell!” she cried standing up to see the person at the table looking at her...and the rest of the library staring at her in shock, including the librarian. Marlene felt her face flush from her collar bone to her hair line a hideous bright red.

Bloody hell.

[SNAPE, severus]

The floating avada kedavras vanished off his brain at the sound of a loud thud, surprisingly, coming from under the table. Years of ostracism can teach anyone to be cautious: outcast status is the best, world certificated, university of paranoia. Was anyone there...? James could... Here came, again, his paranoia. Was he so wrong, his guess too far fetched? The entire school had seen his underpants, two years before, but Severus Snape knew James Potter could always outdo himself, and this time he could be crawling there, holding a camera, or maybe a rodent, and even though he had spent some money buying himself a whole set of (not at all fashionable) underpants (a purchase that felt like signing a rendition), Severus jumped from his seat, involuntarily pushing the chair behind in a quick swift motion that would have ended with him on the floor, had he not held the table for dear life, almost making his books (the books he did not want anyone to see) stumble. It was always like this, one unfortunate thing leading to another and him making a fool of himself. Was it luck? He knew he was not extremely clumsy, but the nervousness that paralyzed his limbs, all caused by his insecurity, thwarted his every attempt to do something decorously.

Beneath a golden mane, a pair of blue eyes looked at him from under the table. Relief, he breathed deeply, this was not Potter, but there were other things to worry about. There always are, if you happen to be the teenage nemesis of the plastic idol of Hogwarts multitudes. Quick as lightning, Severus stood up, his large black irises fixed on the girl, and nervously as ever, he rapidly closed the book on the table and stamped a heavier volume over his notes. Oh, and there he was, his lack of social skills standing in the way of his path to a normal existence. Instinctively brushing a black strand of hair away from his sallow face, Severus stepped back and offered his hand to the girl.

"M-may I help you?"

Apparently, as his mind came to the realisation that he was still unable to cast a forbidden curse and actually infringe damage on someone, she had been looking for something under the table, and he did not think it had anything to do with his underpants. He blushed at the thought, knowing it had not made sense at all, but still, he felt relieved at the sight of the Ravenclaw badge on her dark robes.

"Are you hurt?" he inquired. There could be no one worse than him to handle new situations. But there were few students better than Severus Snape when it came to potion handling. He could make her an ointment that would make her forget the pain in seconds. Of that he was sure. How could he not? His knowledge, he was aware, was all he had in the world.