Melinda never did really pay attention to when people came and left the room. At some point she figured she probably should -- she was so often alone in the potions room, just her and the six cauldrons bubbling away behind her. Something like that, however, would require the ability to be able to moderate how much attention she spend on any one thing. That was something she was never particularly good at. How people never lost themselves in books was something that was so completely foreign to her. And she had done just that. Again. She'd dove head-long into a variety of books on the classification of viruses that the sound of someone entering the room was completely lost on her.
That is, until the sound of books thudding against the table.
The sound itself was enough to make Melinda start. She jumped on her stool, her blue eyes rising from the texts before her to find the source of the sound. For a second, Melinda felt the urge to ask how old the kid was. Twelve? That was, of course, despite the fact that he was likely a full head taller than she was. Everyone was, really.
"Merlin, you keep startling people like that, someone might throw a book at you, you know." She said softly, sitting up straighter. "What are you doing?"