Solitary Production( Deirdre Seamore only)

Malcolm was new to Hogwarts, sure. But that wasn't going to stop him from being one of the more knowledgeable students at the school. So it was that he found himself in the library, he had a library back in St. Petersburg, it was his favorite place to go besides in his own back-yard where his parents raised animals. He sits at a solitary round table, a stack of books he wants to read up on but not necessarily check out sitting imposingly high, higher then his head is in its leaning down state. 'Divination is one of the most obscure arts in the wizarding world.' He frowns as he reads on, tossing the book in a 'Read but didn't like' pile. He generally ignored books that objectified a subject, or just simply talked about them and offered no way to use them. In his own words, it wasn't very 'Productive.' The words 'not' and 'productive' even formed a very large list for Malcolm.

Friends was one of those things. So many people worried about making 'friends,' he didn't understand that in the slightest bit. Friends where a distraction, and why be distracted when you could spend your day doing something worth a damn? He shook his head, he didn't like getting worked up about things like that. Running a hand through his air and taking a breath of air in, and looking around at the lonely space he occupied. He had a tinge in his stomache, he couldn't frankly put what it was, but whatever it was it made him feel slightly sad. He shakes his head clear of the feeling, it wasn't a good time to be getting sick, he had only just got to Hogwarts the other day! It was then he realized he was currently the only one in the library, shivering. It was creepy to think about being alone in an ancient library, but then again it was a great opportunity. He dug his head back in his next book, and then the next, going through books and books, sorting the ones he collected into a 'Like' and 'Dislike' pile.

Deirdre’s bluish-green eyes flashed curiously, as well as a little greedily, while the heavy doors of Hogwarts’ library opened under the pressure of her small hands. She could hardly wait for them to dissolve enough to form a small opening through which she could squeeze her thin body and slipped inside, followed by her black cat named Marble. Behind her the doors closed with a loud noise, but the librarian was not there to hush indignantly.
Intoxicated by the smell of paper and ink,which she breathed with delight, Deirdre belatedly realized that she was alone, completely alone in the library, if one did not count Marble. Oh, wonderful! sighed contentedly the black haired girl. Books and loneliness, what could be better than that!
Suddenly to Deirdre's hearing came a soft murmuring and she turned while Marble meowed warningly. Yet apparently she was not alone, sign, because on a table tucked in the corner sat a black haired boy muttering and sorting books in two large piles.
When he heard the mewing of Marble, his head turned quickly to them...
___________
I apologize for the delay and its shortness,that's all I can do right now. (><)'

Malcolm had felt a presence before he heard it, yet out of instinct his head turned sharply towards them. He allowed the subtle raised eyebrow to show his curiosity towards the girl and her cat, 'Well there goes the solitude..' He turned his head back to the books, figuring if he ignored the two that maybe he could feel like he was alone again. He had a feeling the girl was there for the same reason he was, books and alone time. Well, to her it wouldn't really be /alone/, at least he thought so. She did have a cat with her after all.

He set another book down in the start of a second 'tower' of books he thought to personal or objective to be used by him, the other stack was smaller, but still impressively big. His thoughts did drift to the girl on the other side of the room, why was she there and why did she have her cat with her? Granted Hogwarts allowed pets, but it seemed off to have her cat with her in a library. 'I digress. Its none of my business.' The black haired Russian sighed as he picked up another book.

----
No worries.

The boy glanced at her with his pointy eyebrow raised highly on his forehead, then he turned around again and re-gave his attention to the two piles of books he was sorting, not paying her a single glance more. In other words, he simply ignored her.
Deirdre's feelings were mixed with that action of his. If he did pretend she was not there, she could do the same about him and she could still be pretty much alone in the library, which to her sounded marvelous. On the other hand, nobody should ignore a girl, or anybody for that matter. How dare he!
With her lips pressed into a thin line, Deirdre picked up Marble from the floor, from where she was dangerously hissing to the boy, it being her own threat to him for offending her owner, and quietly walked to some of the bookshelves, deciding to ignore completely the jet black haired boy, whose eyes she could feel piercing her back.
Marble climbed on the girl’s shoulder, her black fur mixing with the also black hair of Deirdre’s. She meowed.
Deirdre hushed and petted the cat on its head, and then again her attention drifted to the many piles of books in front her.

Malcolm meanwhile was completely oblivious to the offense that was taken, though he noticed the cat hissing at him, Did I do something to that cat in another life? He wasn't much of a people person, so he didn't really think it mattered that he simply noted that she was there and moved on with what he was doing. He swears under his breath in his native language, which had become a habit so nobody got onto him about swearing. It was fun knowing a language no one else did. At least, no one else from this country. He runs a hand through his hair and stands up, taking the large pile of reject books and beginning to put them back exactly where he found them, this was maybe a shelf or two to the right of the girl who was prowling through the book shelf's like the cat she had on her shoulder would have.

He just narrowly catches one of the books as it fell out of his grasp, putting it back. He could /feel/ the girl staring daggers at him from where she was, but decided not to look towards her. 'What did I do that was so bad? Does she take offense to people noticing that she's there? Or was it my raised eyebrow?' His thoughts turned to those thoughts as he continued to sort the books.

Oh, Deirdre wasn't offended. She couldn't really care less if the boy was to ignore her as long as she wouldn't be disturbed to continue with her studying. It was just against any rules оf good behavior to not greet a lady, even if Deirdre didn't really think of herself as one.
Deciding to stop her mind from thinking of what of a jerk that guy was and start working on more…to say, productive things, she just proceeded browsing her books, completely forgetting to pay attention to the boy. Marble, however, did not stop hissing with her silver cat eyes narrowed.
Then the boy murmured the impossible to himself – he swore in Russian!
Deirdre felt the corners of her lips twitching up and forming a small smile. So he was a Russian, then. He probably thought nobody understood him speaking that language in this country, at least. However, he really should’ve thought again, for he surely did not know that Deirdre spoke his native tongue well enough indeed, having learned from her mother.
For a moment she forgot she was ignoring him and looked at his direction, while he was catching a book and preventing it from falling down on the floor. Then the boy stood up and started putting the books that he was just sorting carefully into piles back on the shelves they were taken from. Those shelves were located closely to the ones she was looking for literature on.
“He may be interesting.” Deirdre murmured in the Russian language loudly.Oops.

What was that that just hit his ears? He had to have been hearing things, most people here had no interest in languages beyond their own, but that girl over there just spoke in his tongue. It took him a moment, but he came to terms with it. He shot a glance her way, what did she say, he'd be 'interesting?' I drew some attention with my words I guess. Try to ignore it.. He began to walk down his section of shelves, looking for books that caught his eye. The cat was getting annoying with its hissing.

Marble did not stop hissing for one single second, for the boy was glaring at Deirdre suspiciously.
However, even her random blurted out words did not drain his attention on her for long, so Deirdre was once again peaceful. The ignoring process was to continue.
That was, at least, the plan, until Marble jumped oh the boy's head, before he got too far from them, and started scratching.
'Clever cat' was Deirdre's first thought, the second being "Marble,stop!"

He was /this close/ to reaching for a book when suddenly he felt a weight on his head. Then he felt the claws dig in. His reaction was natural as to what any self respecting Russian man would do, swear so much an old sailor would blush, then later deny ever saying anything. His swearing was naturally in his native language, but he doubted it mattered as the girl over there with the demon cat heard it all, she did apparently speak his language.

It took him a good two minutes but eventually he wrestled the cat off of his head. "What did I ever do to you?" He says in English with his normal accent. He keeps the offending creature at arms length he takes it over to the girl, "I believe this peace loving cat belongs to you?" So much for alone time, its time to /talk to people./

"I believe this peace loving cat belongs to you?"
Deirdre stretched out her hands and took the hissing cat from those of the boy in front of her.
As soon as Marble's head touched her master's chest, the cat stopped throwing its arms in the air and rested, feeling satisfied of the sweet-oh-sweet revenge she had had.
However, Deirdre could not relax as easily as that. The mixed feelings in her fought.
Deirdre wanted to laugh at the poor boy, but also felt a little guilty (?), because said boy had a grumpy expression on his face (accompanied by a couple of scratches), and looked particularly... relieved, for the cat was not on his head with its claws of justice anymore.
Anyhow, she knew Marble way too well to predict that the cat was already quite content, so she kneed down and opened her arms, letting Marble safely on the floor, from where she looked at the guy, her silver eyes practically smirking at him. He twitched and stepped back.
Show time.
"She's not going to eat you. You can relax."
The boy looked disbelievingly at her.
"And by the way, she is a peace loving creature, thank you very much. Well, that is, only when you don't bug or persecute me."
Oops. She had spoken way to many words. What was wrong with her? Meeting friends isn't quite... productive, she thought.Sign.
She took a deep breath in.
"I am Deirdre. Deirdre Seamore."

"I am Malcom Wallace." He was sure that she wanted to laugh at him, but then again he had put on quiet a show. The cat seemed satisfied that it had gotten to do something, "I didn't realize I had offended you and your cat. I'm sorry." He says, his attention didn't stay on her for long, he began to look around as he talks, ""And I'm also sorry if the little show I put on was a bit..Badly worded." She would hear him give a small laugh to himself, "You were busy, weren't you? I suppose I should let you get back to what you were doing. Its not really productive, just sitting around here and talking, is it?" He looks at her again as his hand goes to grab a book off of the shelf.

She already figured it out he didn't find it productive talking to her, or anyone for that matter, for his hands were completing other tasks, completely not concerning her. Anyway, Deirdre didn't quite know how she would've continued her speech if he expected that from her. But one thing was for sure, " I guess it isn't, no. I'm very sorry that my cat hurt you."Well, no that much.'' However, I see you have other business you need to complete, so I don't think I'll keep bothering you now"
She nodded at Malcolm to show respect and swiftly brushed past him, Marble following her, to get back to the shelf of books she was browsing.
Her small finger made a line as she passed the books she wasn't interested in and stopped, when something was worth of her opinion. Every time she did so, she could feel Malcolm looking at her for a moment, then adverting his gaze again.
It appeared, however, that the book she was searching for, The Decline of Pagan Magic by Bathilda Bagshot, was missing from there. As tried to figure out where it could be, her bluish-green eyes' glance fell on the red cover of the book Malcolm was just taking from a shelf and putting it on top of a new pile he was making.
Oh, no he didn't.

He had found a rather interesting book, The Decline of Pagan Magic, that he remembered being recommended as a good book. He proceeds to sit down and crack open the book. Though the girl was glaring at him again, he wasn't sure why this time. He began to read a few pages of the book and found it interesting, one of the good ones. He had a feeling that cat was about to jump him again, so he visibly tenses up incase he needs to jump out of the way in event of cat attack. Otherwise he kept reading the book. It was interesting to say the least, it crosses his mind to check it out and bring it back with him to read.

Deirdre's little fists clenched, her eyes were narrowed again.
How did that doofus manage to get under her skin so easily? She was usually a very calm person, no doubt.
Marble had also felt the negative energy that flowed from her owner and bereadied herself for yet another attack. The poor boy had tensed, feeling something horrible was about to happen to his face. Again. He just did not know what was coming at him. However, he stubbornly proceeded reading.

Malcolm wasn't usually the kind to feel spiritual or feel 'auras' around him. But right now everything about the other two in the room was screaming, 'Put down that book right now, or you will suffer an eternal hell.' He really didn't like it, and he had a feeling the only way to stop it was to put down the book, but it was a GOOD book and he didn't know very many of those. At least at Hogwarts. He wasn't about to give up this book without a fight, and he was determined to make it a good one. He flips the page, bookmarks it with an index card, and puts it in the very middle of a large stack of an untold number of books as he moves onto to another one. 'You want this book, Ms. Seamore, you come get it.' With the way he looked just situated in the chair, relaxed and with a knowing look to the way he simply turned the page of his next book, Ms. Seamore would be able to tell he knew what she wanted.

Oh, no, he did not just do that.
Deirdre was a calm person. A very calm one. She was never pissed.
But then there were those cases in which the price was too high not to be. And that price was...Books. Nobody touches Deirdre Seamore's books.
And so, by doing what he actually did before her very eyes, Mr.Wallace had pulled the trigger to his own head.
How dare he arrogantly put the book she desired most between his other books? And he was stubbornly looking at her eyes, like if saying,'You want this book, Ms. Seamore, you come get it.' The look on his face proved that he was very proud of what he had done-piss her off.
"Be careful, Mr. Wallace, you may not live to brag."she murmured to herself.
As far as she was concerned, there was this new American song, called 'Come & Get it'.
She started walking to him, he had dared her, hadn't he?So she was coming.
Her raven coloured bangs gave a dangerous look, as she was walking and...singing.
"When you're come and get it, na na na na...."
She sings good, don't you think?
_______
I'm sorry, it's real dramatic.

Malcolm doesn't intend to give up, he, like her, loved books, and wasn't willing to just give them up. His form was completely relaxed as compared to earlier, giving a sign that he wasn't afraid of the raven haired girl that was coming his way. He didn't see any of this as productive, but he'd be damned if he lost that book to anyone short of some Divine power, and from what he was seeing, while she was dangerous, she wasn't divine. He had a smirk on his face, though he wasn't directly looking at her just yet, as if pretending that he didn't do anything to her. In reality, he WAS proud in what he had done. For whatever reason, he found it fun to mess with this girl. Hell, he /may/ give her the book...If she asks nicely, and he knows that this girl is more then likely too proud to do something like that.

Maybe she could ask nicely? Or apologize?
No way she could ever do that  / ! /- firstly, he was the responsible one, and secondly, it would be equal to giving up.
Or maybe- she could trick him...
Judging by the look on his face, he was very proud of getting under her skin and sincerely thought there was absolutely no solution, with which she get that book.
So she just stopped. Right there.
And then did something he did never suspect she could do- she pulled out her light wand and waved it gently:
"Accio the 'Decline of Pagan Magic'!"