Post by Dylan Caoimhe on Jun 21, 2010 17:58:37 GMT
Two weeks. That is how much time had passed since the school year began, and Dylan and his fellow Seventh Years were already feeling the weight of their upcoming N.E.W.T. examinations. It seemed as if their professors were careful to give them the most tedious work possible, which Dylan wouldn't have minded if he weren't so distracted. The two week time period had also marked the very last time that Dylan saw or spoke to Kellan, which was fine with him by all means. But he could not deny the fact that there wasn't a day that went by that he didn't think about his cousin, understandably, which made Dylan feel that frustration that had been picking away at him for the last few days. Since they had been back, Dylan had yet to get a chance to talk to Williard, mainly because his younger brother was clearly avoiding him, or, it became clear to him two days ago that that's what he was doing, rather. Williard had been walking down an empty corridor, until Dylan stepped into the very same one on his way down to his Common Room. Williard stopped right on the spot, clearly surprised as was Dylan, but before he could speak, Williard turned around and quickly walked the other way.
Dylan understood. He saw, well, imagined how the situation must feel from Williard's perspective and he sympathized......but he couldn't just walk around moping all the damn time. He, like Dylan, needed to toughen up and deal with the cards that they had been dealt, and try and make something work them. But everyone was different.....Dylan knew that....and he supposed as much as he wanted to do things his way now that he was ready to act, he needed to let other people take their time. It took him nine months to get his own head together......he could wait for Williard. He didn't want to, but he knew he should. For the next fifteen minutes he had forced himself from his thoughts and tried to focus on his homework, but it was impossible; as interesting as the stuff was, his mind was too busy. Then, another distraction arose in the form of Allen Froyer, a Seventh Year Hufflepuff who hesitantly sat down at Dylan's table, keeping his eye on the Slytherin, clearly not knowing how he would react. Dylan felt himself make a face.
Dylan didn't know Allen personally, but he had been around him for six years now and knew the Hufflepuff to be extremely spacey, very much a spaz, but oddly intelligent also. Overall he was harmless...Dylan knew that, but this was the very first time that the two had come into one-on-one contact.
"Hello Dylan," he said pushing his glasses back up onto his sharp nose. "I n-noticed that you were doing the homework for Transfiguration. Stuff is a bit confusing, huh?" Allen chuckled, but Dylan just nodded. "Well....uh, I-I came over to see if you wanted to try and work on it together?" It looked as if it took all his courage just to get that out. "Two heads are better than one, r-right?" Dylan considered him for a moment. He rarely ever studied with anyone because he preferred to do it on his own. But when he looked at the tall, mousy, clearly stressed out guy in front of him, he had a hard time letting the words "no thanks" escape his mouth. Allen must have been desperate to go as far as to approach someone he didn't know, and he supposed he could use the distraction. Allen's presence could help him focus.
"Sure. Why not?" He smiled at the exasperated sigh that Allen let out.
"Thank you. I just can't seem to wrap my head around this stuff," he said relieved, pulling books and parchment from his bag. "So where do you want to start?"
They studied for a little over an hour, and after reading about complicated terms, confusing incantations and and complex transfigurations, they both conceded defeat for after a while. But Dylan had only been half reading and half listening; he was too busy thinking about August, and how he wished that the two of them would soon get down time enough to hang out and just breathe. He had only seen snatches of him; very short, cruelly minimal snatches of him. There was so much that Dylan wanted to do that school work was just not very high on his list.
"Er, Dylan?"
"Yeah?" Dylan straightened up immediately. He had been staring off.
"Y-you okay?"
"Yeah," he lied. "I'm fine. Just a little tired."
"Me too," he said packing his things up. Dylan needed to go for a walk or something. He felt like he just needed to move. Allen gave a weird gesture, a gesture that Dylan took to mean goodbye, but then Allen turned back around and came back to the table. "Even though we didn't get very far," he started, and then cleared his throat, "Uh, t-thanks for studying with me. No one else would." Dylan nodded, and Allen clumsily walked off toward the exit of the Library, but not before Dylan made a note to try and hang out with the awkwardness that was Allen Froyer more often.
Dylan understood. He saw, well, imagined how the situation must feel from Williard's perspective and he sympathized......but he couldn't just walk around moping all the damn time. He, like Dylan, needed to toughen up and deal with the cards that they had been dealt, and try and make something work them. But everyone was different.....Dylan knew that....and he supposed as much as he wanted to do things his way now that he was ready to act, he needed to let other people take their time. It took him nine months to get his own head together......he could wait for Williard. He didn't want to, but he knew he should. For the next fifteen minutes he had forced himself from his thoughts and tried to focus on his homework, but it was impossible; as interesting as the stuff was, his mind was too busy. Then, another distraction arose in the form of Allen Froyer, a Seventh Year Hufflepuff who hesitantly sat down at Dylan's table, keeping his eye on the Slytherin, clearly not knowing how he would react. Dylan felt himself make a face.
Dylan didn't know Allen personally, but he had been around him for six years now and knew the Hufflepuff to be extremely spacey, very much a spaz, but oddly intelligent also. Overall he was harmless...Dylan knew that, but this was the very first time that the two had come into one-on-one contact.
"Hello Dylan," he said pushing his glasses back up onto his sharp nose. "I n-noticed that you were doing the homework for Transfiguration. Stuff is a bit confusing, huh?" Allen chuckled, but Dylan just nodded. "Well....uh, I-I came over to see if you wanted to try and work on it together?" It looked as if it took all his courage just to get that out. "Two heads are better than one, r-right?" Dylan considered him for a moment. He rarely ever studied with anyone because he preferred to do it on his own. But when he looked at the tall, mousy, clearly stressed out guy in front of him, he had a hard time letting the words "no thanks" escape his mouth. Allen must have been desperate to go as far as to approach someone he didn't know, and he supposed he could use the distraction. Allen's presence could help him focus.
"Sure. Why not?" He smiled at the exasperated sigh that Allen let out.
"Thank you. I just can't seem to wrap my head around this stuff," he said relieved, pulling books and parchment from his bag. "So where do you want to start?"
They studied for a little over an hour, and after reading about complicated terms, confusing incantations and and complex transfigurations, they both conceded defeat for after a while. But Dylan had only been half reading and half listening; he was too busy thinking about August, and how he wished that the two of them would soon get down time enough to hang out and just breathe. He had only seen snatches of him; very short, cruelly minimal snatches of him. There was so much that Dylan wanted to do that school work was just not very high on his list.
"Er, Dylan?"
"Yeah?" Dylan straightened up immediately. He had been staring off.
"Y-you okay?"
"Yeah," he lied. "I'm fine. Just a little tired."
"Me too," he said packing his things up. Dylan needed to go for a walk or something. He felt like he just needed to move. Allen gave a weird gesture, a gesture that Dylan took to mean goodbye, but then Allen turned back around and came back to the table. "Even though we didn't get very far," he started, and then cleared his throat, "Uh, t-thanks for studying with me. No one else would." Dylan nodded, and Allen clumsily walked off toward the exit of the Library, but not before Dylan made a note to try and hang out with the awkwardness that was Allen Froyer more often.
