Quote:
Originally Posted by
love-for-HP 
Despite the fact that Greer was a 7th year .. and despite the fact that ancient runes was her favorite subject of all time this was the first time she had found herself in this alcove. She needed a minuet to breath, to break away from all the chaos of the castle. And as Greer said outloud"There's a first time for everything" as she entered the alove. Maybe she'd get lucky and Professor Cox would be here. She needed some advice really ... but not like offcialy advise where she'd make an appointment, the would be a little more cringe that she was up for at the moment.
But taking a deep breath and smiling at the "old" smell of the room she began to look around.
Perhaps today was your lucky day, Miss Murray.
The familiar scent of old parchment and enchanted ink lingered heavily throughout the Runristninglcove, broken only by the soft scrape of a chair somewhere deeper amongst the shelves and the occasional flicker of candlelight overhead.
Professor Cox arrived carrying a small leather notebook beneath one arm and his other shoved into the pocket of his trousers. His weekly inspections were not particularly exciting affairs. Most consisted of checking that students had not removed books from reference shelves, ensuring none of the protective charms had begun deteriorating, and confirming that the ink-repelling enchantments woven into the study tables were still functioning properly.
A quick snap of his fingers sent a silvery ripple across one of the nearest tables. Outstanding.
He had just turned toward the next row when movement near the alcove entrance caught his attention. One brow lifted slightly seeing as Miss Murray was hardly the sort of student who wandered aimlessly into academic corners of the castle without purpose.
Before he could comment, however, a floating candle overhead drifted lazily across the aisle and a droplet of wax detached itself.
Plink.
It landed squarely against the sleeve of his robes.
"
Remarkable," he observed dryly. His wafted lazily across his arm, a small charm whisking the cooling wax neatly away before it could harden into the fabric.
Only then did he properly acknowledge her.
"
Good day, Miss Murray," he greeted. "
I promise not to interrupt if your intention was to spend the next several hours losing an argument with a language that has been dead for a thousand years." He closed his notebook beneath one arm. "
My inspection is nearly complete, in any event. Unless your presence here is less coincidental than I am presently assuming."