[ The stacks have little to offer him. Nosing through the titles, scanning the pages, there's nothing of what he's looking for. Even the Groundskeeper's suggestions--
(offered, unawares, with Damian careful not to show his true intentions)
--bore no fruit.
Bestiarium Magicum, The Encyclopedia of Bat Eyes... Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them... Marauding with Monsters (ugh, useless tripe)... His patience, what little of it exists, is wearing thin. And those blasted giggles aren't helping; every malicious little faux-whisper, directed at the Davies girl, grates at his focus.
Enough. His books drop to the table with a heavy slam. Damian Wayne, first-year Hufflepuff and (rumored) ill-conceived scion to the Pureblood House of Wayne, takes his seat at the table across from Cassandra with noisy aplomb and the screech of wood dragging against stone.
The sniggering Ravenclaws are startled into silence, even before the weight of Madame Pince's disapproving stare rests on them all from her desk.
Damian, however, acts as if he notices none of this, primly flipping open the topmost book with a click of his tongue -- what might be either an acknowledgment of her existence, or a general sound of disdain. Perhaps both. ]
no subject
(offered, unawares, with Damian careful not to show his true intentions)
--bore no fruit.
Bestiarium Magicum, The Encyclopedia of Bat Eyes... Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them... Marauding with Monsters (ugh, useless tripe)... His patience, what little of it exists, is wearing thin. And those blasted giggles aren't helping; every malicious little faux-whisper, directed at the Davies girl, grates at his focus.
Enough.
His books drop to the table with a heavy slam. Damian Wayne, first-year Hufflepuff and (rumored) ill-conceived scion to the Pureblood House of Wayne, takes his seat at the table across from Cassandra with noisy aplomb and the screech of wood dragging against stone.
The sniggering Ravenclaws are startled into silence, even before the weight of Madame Pince's disapproving stare rests on them all from her desk.
Damian, however, acts as if he notices none of this, primly flipping open the topmost book with a click of his tongue -- what might be either an acknowledgment of her existence, or a general sound of disdain. Perhaps both. ]