Library

Clyde was at a table towards the pack beside a large stack of books. The amount of homework on the first day was pretty surprising in his opinion. Either way, he continued skimming the books for anything that would be helpful with his homework.

At the same table, sitting diagonally from Clyde, was a rotund boy with blonde fuzz sprouting from his ruddy scalp. He was hunched over a piece of parchment, quill in hand, looking entirely stumped. What exactly was a bezoar?

Clyde looked up and at the boy. "Have you been able to find anything on bezoar's? I keep getting 'you can use one' but no the definition." Talking to someone like this... he was desperate.

The boy shrugged. "I don't know!" he whined. "It's like a stomach stone, or something!"

Clyde rolled his eyes and groaned. "Well thank-you for that valuable information."

"What's it do?" he asked, scratching his head.

"That's what I asked you." Clyde started to bury himself back into the books.

"I'm no good at finding things," he muttered. "Haven't you seen anything on it yet?"

"Stone from the belly of a goat... heals every potion, but other than that, no."

"Thank you!" The boy said in desperation, scrawling the answer on his parchment. A period passed, before he spoke up again. "What's your name?" May as well take this as an opportunity.

Clyde gave a little smile and stuck out his hand. "Clyde, Clyde Fannings. Nice to meet you. What's you name?"

The boy ignored his hand, placing one of his own where his collarbone ought to have been. "Wallace Ferdinand Vainglory the-third!" he proclaimed with a wink. "I must say, your name is rather... unusual. For today's standards." Indeed, the shell had been shed.

Clyde raised his eyebrows. "And your's isn't Ferdinand?" While Clyde usually people like... like Wallace, for once he was actually enjoying himself with someone outside the family.

"No, it is!"

Clyde grinned and rubbed his temples. "You're awfully loud."

Even when at a whisper, the boy projected very well, as was evidenced. "Am I? Sorry!"

"Shh!" Hissed a boy sitting at the table next to them. He seemed unhealthy, with large dark-lidded eyes that were nearly black, pale, pallid skin, and long spindly fingers. In fact, he could've easily came out of a horror film as the butler hiding in the shadows. "I'm trying to study!" Even his voice was unhealthy, being raspy and high as it was. "If you're here to converse, go somewhere else. I'll get Madame Pince on you.."

"Who is Madam Pince?" Wallace asked, the joy of it all bringing red splotches to his cheeks.

"The librarian, you fool!" Krad hissed, sounding slightly snake-like. He slammed his books shut and collected them. "I'm leaving. You two should be ashamed. Ashamed. You have dishonored your families today. Remember that." He stormed off.

"Well, isn't he a right prick?"

Clyde was biting now on his lips, hard, in an attempt not to laugh. He mimicked Krad's voice, "Wallace! You've dishonored your family!"

"Ashaaamed!" he joined in the mockery.

Clyde shook his head in confusion. "Ashamed for talking... Wonder how that works."

"Prick," Wallace repeated, picking up his quill once again. "You're a Ravenclaw, I see?"

Clyde nodded. "Yup, and you're..." Clyde's eyes went down to look at his tie. "Gyffindor?"