Nate took the texts that William handed him, glancing at the titles. Most of them were short and rather self-explanatory, nothing at all like the longwinded, intricate titles of Botollinger and his compatriots, which meant they already had several points in their favor.
"Magical geniuses vacationing in philosophy?" Nate asked wryly, shifting his grip so he could add another book to the stack. "In that case, I suspect I'm going to need to check out a dictionary or two, as well." But at least he wouldn't have to translate every sentence from 'pretentious windbag' into 'normal human-speak'.
"Another trick? Schecter really knew what he was doing when he made you Librarian. I'm glad I waited," Nate said off-handedly, examining the newest volume William handed him. "I was going to come in this weekend, but I didn't know if Professor Blackinton would have as thorough a grasp of the ins and outs of the library." He flipped to the dedication page — Academic works don't always have dedications, but I wanted to thank Alex, who encourages me and, more importantly, puts up with my fits of so-called genius. "The general consensus is food poisoning, you not wanting to vomit on the books and all."
He wasn't asking William for information. (Damn his lack of ruthless instincts.) He just wanted to... let him know, or something, that what people were saying about him was mostly entirely innocent. "Of course, I probably should have just come to you months ago, but we Hufflepuffs have a complicated relationship with the library," he added cheerfully. "Thank you, by the way. I really appreciate it."