Who: Brutus & John What: Study buddies! When: Sunday, 10 January, 1943. Evening. Where: the library Status: complete Rating: TBD
Brutus was hunched over his parchment at a table in the furthest corner of the library, frowning. He'd chosen it precisely because it was the furthest from the entrance, where no one would likely wander by. If he was ever going to be caught in a dark corner of the library, he'd much rather it be for snogging some fit girl, and not for reviewing essays with John Lupin. Essays he'd written over Christmas hols-- Christmas hols! when he should have been out flying with his cousins! It was bad enough that they took Quidditch away from him at school, but his parents had to go and take it away from him at home too... His frown deepened to a scowl, and he drew a lumpy bludger in the margin of the top parchment, only to mark it out and then continue scratching at the page until he'd made an angry black blotch.
He heard footsteps then and looked up, accidentally smearing some of the fresh ink across the page. "Bollocks," he muttered, at the smear and at the whole shit situation.
John shifted his grip on Transfiguration texts as he entered the library. He had been pleased when Brutus had asked him for help with his essays. It was good to know that there were still Gryffindors besides Rupert and Saul that he hadn't managed to alienate recently. At least Transfiguration work would help keep that off his mind. For a time, at least. And it was a good way for him to review as well - he did have to work harder at Transfiguration than at other classes. It certainly wouldn't hurt.
He made his way into the darker recesses of the library once it became obvious that Brutus was not in plain site. John didn't blame him for that at all. It was easier to concentrate in a place where people were less likely to see you. He glanced around and nodded to himself when he spotted Brutus. He made his way over to him and put his books on the table before sitting. "So," he said, "What are the main topics you were working with?"
"Uh," Brutus said, looking down at the stack of paper before him. "Stuff from last term, mostly? That I didn't do before, or didn't do so good on." He pushed the pages toward John, hoping the other boy would know what to do next. This whole 'revising' thing was damned awkward. Still, he was grateful John had agreed to help. If he was actually going to make the effort of doing the makeup work, he didn't want to just turn in a pile of crap, which would mean he'd wasted his time, and still be off Quidditch, besides. He almost thanked him for showing up, but 'thanks,' wasn't a word he threw around carelessly, and he decided he'd wait and see how this whole thing went, first. So he just looked at John expectantly, hoping John could just mark up his essays, hand them back, and this could be over with soon.
John put on his reading glasses and began reading the first essay in the stack. It wasn't the best essay ever, but it wasn't abysmal, either, which was a relief. He began jotting down some notes of things to point out once he'd finished reading it. Some places needed commas, and a few paragraphs might work better in different sections of the essay than they were currently in. At least most of the material itself seemed to make sense.
"You've got a good start on this one," he said, glancing up at Brutus. "Mostly I think you just wrote it as it came to you - some of it will be clearer if you switch some of the paragraphs around."
Of course he'd just written it as he came to him. What other way was there to write? He frowned a bit, but still, he was cheered that John said it was a good start. And if he was a bit concerned to see just how much John was jotting down as he read, well, maybe it would be stuff he could put in to make it better.
"Yeah, alright," he said. He tried to sit quietly and just let John keep reading, but he'd never been any good at keeping still. He rocked his chair back on its back legs, and started tracing a design on his thumb with his quill. The thought only then came to him that next time, he could probably just leave the essay with John, and collect it later. Stupid of him, to have asked to do it together. Here he was risking getting spotted in the library like a swot, and more importantly, wasting good time he could have spent trying to get some solo time on the pitch, or... well, his Care of Magical Creatures essay was due soon, too. He let the chair fall back to the floor with a bang, and tried to get a look at what John was writing now. "What's that say?" he asked, squinting at John's handwriting. "There?" As he pointed, his finger smeared the ink a bit, and he pulled his hand back quickly.
John looked at the note Brutus pointed to. "Oh. That says that the paragraph about the effects of the spell could maybe use a sentence to tie it back to the paragraph about the Latin meaning of it. It's basically just a way of saying, 'you know that thing I mentioned earlier? It's important in this part to, and I knew that.' And it makes the essay a little easier to read. You could basically just take a sentence from that paragraph and say it a bit differently and that ought to do it."
He looked at his notes again and then pointed to the essay again. "I think it might make more sense if you switched the second and third paragraphs around. The third has a little more in common with the first than the second does, but the second one ties the ideas you have in the third and fourth paragraphs together pretty well." He hoped Brutus could see the connections. But if he needed to explain some more, it would only help him get the concepts more firmly cemented in his own mind.
Brutus forced himself to really think about what John was saying, not just nod and follow his instructions. He was quiet a moment, brow furrowed, as he mentally repeated what John had just said, following along in his essay. "Oh," he said, sounding a bit surprised, as he realised John's suggestions were good ones. "'Cause here I'm talking about the things it can't do, and there and there, more of the things it can?" Yeah, that did make sense. Brutus even smiled a bit now, to realise that what he had here really wasn't awful, to start with. "Don't make it too good, or Dumbledore'll think I cheated off somebody," he joked, looking very pleased with himself.
John chuckled. "I think he might guess you talked your ideas through with someone. It's still your words, so you've nothing to worry about. But yeah, just put the related bits closer together." He took another slip of parchment and began printing as clearly as he could. "What you might try in the future - and probably with the rest of these, too - is re-read them and just jot down what you talk about in each paragraph. Then you'll have the list to look at and see which parts have the most in common. It's a bit like making an outline, but in reverse." He was happy that Brutus was understanding what he had to say. It was pleasant, having good advice to give and have it taken. Much better situation all 'round than other areas, he thought.
That sounded like a lot of work to Brutus. Like writing one essay two times. Did people like John always put this much effort into their schoolwork? “I’m hungry,” he announced abruptly, and his stomach grumbled on cue. Supper had been barely an hour ago, but Brutus was a growing boy, and rations were tight. This was why he thought ahead, and swiped food from first-years. He fished two rolls from his pocket, and hesitated only slightly before offering one to John. “You want?” he asked, through a mouthful of his own.
"Yes, thanks." It felt odd, eating in the library of all places, but there was absolutely no point in passing up food. He tool the roll and took a bite. He knew if it wasn't for rationing, his mum would have been pushing extra food at him during hols. She thought he was a bit thin. And compared to some others his age, he knew he was. "So. What do you think of the air raid strategy? I think the only people who didn't seem to complain were a few of the Hufflepuffs."
"I didn't complain," Brutus pointed out, smiling a bit wickedly. "I think it's funny. So long as it's us going to them and not the other way round." It wasn't like he couldn't stomach the presence of a couple Slytherins, and it was oddly satisfying, knowing it was going to drive them crazy to have all of Gryffindor milling about in their Common Room. "Say," he said, as a thought struck him. "Wonder how they keep the boys out of the girls' dorms there? If we're not going to all get 'lost' and wander into Hufflepuff maybe we can get lost someplace else instead." His Transfiguration essays were completely forgotten as he put his mind to this new and much more interesting problem.
John blinked. That wasn't the sort of question he'd expected. "I...have no idea. I never thought about it before. I suppose they might ward the entrance, if they felt the need. They're all so focused on propriety, though, that I suppose they'd just stay out for the sake of honour and appearances. Mostly for appearances, though." He supposed the Slytherins did have a sort of honour, twisted as their definition of it seemed to be. "But I'd really recommend against it. They are awfully touchy about their womenfolk." And John had no desire to deal with any aftermath of the Great Girl's Dorm Invasion.
"Interesting," Brutus said, at the suggestion that maybe the Slytherins just operated on the honour system. That was a funny thought. Meanwhile, he and Algie tried to get up the girls' stairs in Gryffindor at least once a term, and had the bruises to prove it. He sucked the end of his quill thoughtfully. "Maybe the first time can be, what do you call it..." He mentally groped for the word reconnaisance, and missed. "... checking it out," he finished. "For the future."
Brutus wasn' t usually the plotting type, really-- more like the type to get caught up in someone else's scheme-- and who knew if he'd actually see it through, but he liked the idea of pulling it off. "Don't tell anybody outside Gryffindor," he instructed John. "I want to see the look on Rufus's face when I hand him the Head Girl's knickers."
"I don't think they'd respond very well to anyone stealing the girls' knickers," John said slowly, visions of fights and possibly even challenges to duels flashing through his head. "I imagine they'd promptly hand you over to a prefect if they caught you." This really was a strange topic of conversation. And he was rather sure they shouldn't be having it at all, but it was already started, wasn't it? "Mm, yes, I don't think that would end well at all," he murmured, mostly to himself.
"But I won't tell anyone you've considered it. It isn't really dangerous, after all." Unless Lestrange and his ilk decided to retaliate. But Brutus was at least more able to physically defend himself than Doug. Still, John didn't like the idea.
“Could be dangerous,” Brutus countered cheerfully. “You’re the one who said they’re ‘touchy about their womenfolk.’” But even Brutus could see that John wasn’t going to contribute anything to the planning of this scheme—which was a pity, him not applying his brainpower to something fun for a change—so he let it go. For now. He wasn’t exactly desperate to get back to the work at hand, though, so he rocked back on his chair legs again and examined the ceiling as he waited for another distracting topic to come to him. “Oh, so, hey,” he said, when it did—keeping his gaze on the ceiling now to avoid meeting John’s eyes. “I never said—that thing with Morgan and Moody last week? Well done you.” He smiled at Lupin now as he added, “I told Moody that if that’s what you managed to do to him, he’s just lucky I wasn’t around.”
John was glad Brutus dropped the subject, and was relieved to learn that at least someone besides Rupert supported his actions. "Thanks. Someone had to, or he'd have got worse than detention for blowing up the Great Hall. It was a daft scheme and I don't know if he'd actually have managed it, but--you don't just go wrecking or blowing shite up in the Great Hall. We need it intact and usable, and I don't think the professors or the Headmaster would look kindly upon distruction of school property." He took a deep breath and shook his head. "I feel bad for Leonie, I really do. We're not an easy group to be prefect over, I'd wager."
"But I am glad you told Moody off as well," John added. "That might do more good than what I did to him."
Brutus looked the slightest bit confused as John was talking-- the only part of the plan he remembered was the part where it was going to end up with Rufus leaving Hogwarts and flying off into a load of bombs. But after a moment he remembered how blowing up the Great Hall factored into that, and he nodded. "Yeah, hope so," he said simply, enjoying the ego boost. Damn straight Moody'd better listen to him-- there are, after all, many opportunities for one Beater to 'accidentally' get the other with a bludger to the skull. He yawned then, in a self-satisfied way, and happened to glimpse his watch as he stretched, noticing it was much later than he'd thought. "Ah, bollocks," he said automatically, his expression darkening again. He wanted to get through all of these before curfew, so he could stay up doing the reading for Flying & Quidditch tomorrow. "I don't know how you do this doing homework thing every day," he said, even as he leaned over to look at the essays again, reluctantly turning his attention back to the task at hand.
John tried hard not to grin at Brutus's comment. "It goes better if you work on things a bit each day, but it can still be a challenge," he said. He began skimming the other essays quickly. Most of them were about the same as the first one they'd looked at in terms of what needed to be done, which was good, even if Brutus didn't like revising. "I think we can manage to improve most of these. I'm not promising they'll be perfect, but they will be a lot better."
John’s comment, though well-intentioned, had the effect of deflating the same ego he’d just boosted, and Brutus sighed as they got back to work. He just had to get back on the Quidditch team, and he just had to make it through one more term, and then his NEWTs… So he hunched his shoulders and kept his mouth shut and tried his best to focus as John continued marking up his work.