20 September 1879 — Hogwarts Castle (Fall Term, Basil's Sixth Year)

Basil knew better. He did, really. As a sixth year, it was his duty to know better. Borrowing books from the restricted section of the library was only possible on the recommendation of a professor. He knew this, and yet the knowledge did nothing to dissuade him from desperately needing to get his hands on a particular tome.

They were currently studying transfigurative hexes in his Transfiguration N.E.W.T class. One of the assignments Professor Thompson had given them involved writing an essay on the hexes they had discussed this week. The issue was, Basil already knew most there was to know about those hexes inside and out, having done his own personal reading over the holiday break. And he knew Thomspon knew it too. He wanted to write and learn about something new, something more… exciting perhaps. Thus, Basil came to his current predicament.

He was currently in the Ravenclaw common room, pacing back and forth trying to bolster his courage enough to make the hard choice. It would be easy enough to slip down to the library now, most everyone was in the Great Hall still finishing supper. He could, in all likelihood, get in and get out fairly quickly without being caught. That said, if he was apprehended, it would certainly earn him a detention he didn’t want - or have time - to serve. Frowning at himself, Basil worried his lower lip. The alternative, however, was writing another essay about something he already knew and showing no real initiative. Besides, these were the years to get into trouble! (Not serious trouble, but nonetheless!)

Alright then. He would just have to do it, circumstances be damned. Buck up, ol’chap and all that.

Making his way swiftly from the empty common room, Basil started for the library before he could change his mind. His collar was warm under his robes and he was jumpy. Twice he nearly startled out of his skin as some students and a prefect came around the corner. Eventually though, he made it to the library and stood - teetering - looking down the cordoned off isles. He knew exactly where the book was, he just needed to slip under the rope and snatch it off the shelf, stuffing it into his bag before anyone noticed. He was just about to do so, fingers grazing the rope, when someone made a noise behind him and Basil yelped, turning round very quickly. His cheeks blazed red, and before he could recall them words tumbled quickly from his vocals. “It’s not what it looks like!”

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Agrimony Macnair

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Fourth year was almost to an end, which meant he had to start preparing for OWLs. While it wasn't the most intriguing prospect of all, he was determined to do somewhat well on most of his studies. And so it was that Agrimony left the Defense Against the Dark Arts class with the intention of studying in the library for a while before dinner. Hopefully he wouldn't actually lose track of time and forget dinner like last time. Either way, he thought the risk was worth it, and proceeded to make the trek to the library.

He nodded a greeting to the librarian before making an immediate right and heading towards the back of the library. There were plenty of students around but a majority of them were packing up their belongings to get ready for dinner. The further back he went, the fewer students Agrimony encountered.

Eventually he found a spot and sat down — this specific nook was positioned so his back was to the wall and he had the full view of the library in front of him. It was also convenient because he could read by the light of the (quickly fading) day. Soon, it was almost too dim to read, but he was so engrossed with his material that he didn't realize he'd been almost entirely concealed by the shadows. A movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention and he looked up to see an older student, his back to Agrimony, looking into the Restricted Section.

His attention thoroughly piqued, Agrimony watched the student deliberate, his fingers skimming the (rather useless) rope of the Restricted Section. He seemed to be deliberating if he should head on in or not. Which clearly meant he didn't have a pass to the section either. Intriguing. Agrimony's lips curled into a smile and he sat back, arms crossed and now mildly entertained. But the student stood there deliberating for far too long than he had the patience for, and to move the student along, Agrimony reached forward with a long finger, picking up the corner of his book with his index finger and flicking the book shut on the desk.

His smile only deepened as the student whirled around with an immediate protest and a lie. Well this was an interesting situation. "What does it look like?" Agrimony countered quietly, still leaning back into the shadows

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Basil knew his cheeks were entirely aflame. He could feel the redness in them permanently tinging him. How on Earth was he supposed to explain this away, especially after that very guilty little outburst. He hadn’t even done anything yet! Raising a hand to scratch the back of his head, he looked away from the figure in the corner - one Agrimony Macnair - guiltily.

The Ravenclaw didn’t know Mr. Macnair all too well, he only really knew of him. And with that, what he’d heard of the boy sitting in the shadows nearest him was not favorable. Rumors abounded, as they did with most things, that he was an unnatural sort of creature, strange to talk to and unnerving at best. Basil had never really interacted with him before now and he apprised the Slytherin wearily. He supposed it was best not to judge someone on rumors though, for Victoria knows he’d had his own fair share of that in the past year to manage. Instead, he shifted his weight and took a deep breath.

“Alright yes!” he breathed out quickly. “I was about to try and sneak out a book from the restricted section, but perhaps it’s better to not.” Basil looked back down the isle at the book he wanted. “Lord knows I’ve no luck for it,” he added, muttering. Then, remembering his manners, he stepped forward. “O-oh, Basil Foxwood,” he offered a hand to shake.

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Agrimony Macnair

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Agrimony didn't need a candle in order to see how brightly the older boy was blushing. In a way it was amusing, and he tilted his head unblinkingly at him while he was blustering about. If there was ever a person who looked guilty, it was him. But he had no earthly idea why the boy would have wanted to get into the restricted section in the first place.

And at last, the truth came spilling out of the boy's mouth as if Agrimony had just stuck pins under his fingernails. Merlin, this boy wouldn't do well under any sort of duress. He was rather a twitchy fellow, which Agrimony stored in his back pocket as he watched him flounder for a few more seconds before introducing himself.

In one swift movement, Agrimony uncrossed his arms and stood up, grasping Foxwood's hand and giving it a firm shake. "Agrimony Macnair." He said, as if commenting about the weather, before he brushed past the Ravenclaw and walked to the edge of the Restricted Section. "Which book did you say it was?" He threw over his shoulder, plucking the rope from the air and hoisting it over his head as he ducked under.

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Basil nodded as the other boy introduced himself. How friendly, he thought to himself pleasantly. Suddenly, Macnair asked him about what book he needed and slipped under the rope; Basil’s mouth dropped agape. “I-I didn’t…” he replied, stunned. How simple had it been for Macnair to simply waltz into the restricted section! Basil wondered at his own mental fortitude, dubiously.

Then, realizing the longer Macnair stood there the more likely they both were to get caught, Basil stepped closer to the rope. “Deadly and Dangerous Hexes from the Roman Imperial Society,” he replied, pointing to a specific isle just near them. “It should be on the third shelf there.”

Still stunned at how helpful the other was being, Basil figured he ought to find a way to thank Macnair. He never would have expected to come across someone willing to help him break a school rule! (Though Basil also didn’t stop to consider how most students often broke many schools rules). He also didn’t pause to consider how he was going to return the book after ‘borrowing’ it quite illegally. That was another problem for another day.

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Agrimony Macnair

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Agrimony stood there, arm outstretched as he scanned the titles whilst the other boy deliberated for - again - far longer than he had the patience for. His pale gaze swung in the boy's direction, one eyebrow tweaked ever so slightly in impatience, his foot itching to tap the floor if it might in any way expedite this process. By the mercy of bloody Merlin, the boy seemed to catch on that the longer he stood there the more likely it was that they would get caught.

Once he'd heard the title, Agrimony cast the boy an agitated sort of look before he turned to walk to the aisle the book was in. Deadly and Dangerous Hexes from the Roman Imperial Society; well, that was a start. The Slytherin boy reached the correct aisle and skimmed the third shelf. Sure enough the name was printed on the spine of the book in faded gold and Agrimony flicked out a finger to slide it off the shelf and tossed the book unceremoniously over his shoulder where it would float serenely back to Foxwood. After another quick scan of the second shelf, Agrimony flicked another book off the shelf and tossed it over his shoulder again; this book was all black with only embossed black writing and frayed edges.

"Aannnddd, one more..." He murmured to himself, stuffing his hand in his pocket and strolling back to the rope, but not before pulling another book off the shelf. "Catch." He said, once he was back within hearing distance, and chucked the book at Foxwood; despite the nature of the handoff, the book joined the other two, floating towards the older boy. "Start with those, but be careful with that one, it can bite." Agrimony pointed to the black one.

Then, in a rustle of sound, the sound of footsteps echoed behind them in the library's shelves.

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Basil watched with bated breath as Macnair drifted through the isles and found his book. As the boy tossed it over his shoulder and floated it in his direction, Basil’s eyes trained on the cover keenly. He was very excited at the prospect of curling up with this particular tomb tonight in the Ravenclaw common room. He’d cleared his schedule already, warning friends that he would be incommunicado for the rest of the evening. (What he’d have done if he hadn’t managed to acquire it hadn’t occurred to the boy until it was too late, but that was neither here nor there anymore.)

As Macnair pulled another, rather forbidding looking book from the shelves, Basil furrowed his brows. He didn’t recognize anything about that particular text, or the next one that Macnair selected. Still, he was intrigued and grinned at the younger Slytherin appreciatively. “Thanks!” he chirped.

Just then, as Basil lifted the rope to accept the books and Macnair made his way back over, footsteps sounded nearby. Panic took over any rational cognitive function and Basil stood there, rooted to the spot unable to move. He just barely managed to wrap his arms around the texts as the footsteps drew closer. Stranger nearly upon them, it was all Basil could do to not drop the armful of restricted items and yank Macnair back out of there before he got caught. Basil would never forgive himself if this poor Slytherin took the brunt of his illicit whims!

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Agrimony Macnair

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The sound of footsteps became louder just as Foxwood had the books in hand. "Uh oh." Agrimony said, though his tone might as well have matched one used to comment on the laziest Sunday cricket game. He watched the Ravenclaw for a half a moment longer before rolling his eyes. Merlin the chap really wouldn't do well at all under any sort of duress, extreme or otherwise. The footsteps echoing throughout the library acted as a metronome, picking up in momentum until it sounded like they were nearly upon both of the boys. Foxwood still hadn't moved.

"Oh for Christ's sake," Agrimony muttered, leaning forward and hooking a hand around Foxwood's elbow. "Let's go." He coaxed, as if trying to get a small child to inch forward. The Slytherin lifted the rope into the air and tugged Foxwood into the Restricted Section side. "Better hurry unless you want to get caught, Foxwood." He let go of the boy's arm and strolled further back into the library section.

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It seemed they were two sides of an opposing coin in their ‘best way to get out of trouble’ ideas. Basil wasn’t prepared, even as Macnair lifted the rope, to head into the Restricted Section. As the Slytherin grabbed him by the elbow and tugged him across the line however, Basil tripped and swallowed a small yelp. He stumbled forward clumsily and knocked right into the younger boy. A bright crimson blush spread across his face, and Basil looked away as he righted himself.

“I don’t think this is the direction we should have gone,” he whispered fervently, cheeks still pink. Even so, Basil followed Macnair deeper down the aisle, clutching the books tightly to his chest. What on Earth were they going to do now if they got caught? He didn’t even want to think about that prospect as, again, he clutched the books tightly to his chest. Unbeknownst to the Ravenclaw he was slowly, increasingly annoying the dark text that Macnair had pulled from the shelves for him. It seethed under his careless grip.

As they neared the furthest side of the Restricted Section where the lighting was dim and the texts all seemed to glow with allure, the Ravenclaw slowed. This was probably quite far enough. Grabbing Macnair by the sleeve, Basil tugged him to a halt and looked back the way they had come. The footsteps seemed to have followed them however, and Basil strained to hear which direction they were coming from. Across from them, perhaps an isle over, a man cleared his throat and Basil flinched. He recognized that sound.

Without any warning, or perhaps many that the Ravenclaw was too distracted to notice, the black book decided it had enough squeezing. With much aplomb the text made its move and bit down on Basil’s arms causing the boy to let out a loud yelp and drop the pile of texts altogether. Well, there went that cover.

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Agrimony Macnair

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A smirk slipped onto Agrimony's features as he turned back to see Foxwood fumbling with the books. Perhaps he should have helped the poor chap with the rather large tomes, but he found the sight of the older student flustered rather amusing. He was content enough to keep walking further into the section when something plucked at his sleeve and he turned around to see Foxwood had stopped.

Brow furrowed in a slight scowl, Agrimony opened his mouth but was stopped as the sound of someone clearing their throat rustled through the air. That seemed to get the Slytherin to shut his mouth and be quiet. He rotated to see if he might be able to ascertain where the sound came from so they could head in the opposite direction. The sound of the throat clearing itself seemed to be older most definitely; perhaps a seventh year with a particularly deep timbre or one of the teachers. It was of little consequence though.

All of a sudden a cry ripped through the air and Agrimony whipped around, his expression promising violence — bugger, one of the books had bit Foxwood. Ignoring the spike of fear that had torn itself through his chest, Agrimony dove for Foxwood in an attempt to wrestle him down to the floor and clap a hand over his mouth to get him to stop making noise. It had, it turns out, been in vain, for the footsteps only got louder as a voice behind Agrimony rumbled, "Wrestling, are we, gentlemen?"

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Basil was wholly unprepared for the sudden tackle that accompanied the throbbing pain in his left arm. What on Earth did the Slytherin think this would do?! Grunting as he landed, Basil frowned through the hand that came to cover his mouth. It was clammy and warm, and Macnair’s handsome face was suddenly much too close to Basil’s own. Imaginary wings tickled at his insides and a furious blush spread evenly across the Ravenclaw’s pale skin as he momentarily (childishly) considered licking the boy’s hand to get it off him. As it would turn out, he needn’t have bothered.

The familiar voice rumbled from behind them and Basil felt goosebumps run up and down his spine. Blast! Not only had they been caught, they’d been caught like this! Scrambling to heave Macnair off him, the Ravenclaw felt like his face was going to spontaneously combust into a raging fire. “P-Professor!” he exclaimed. “I-It’s not what it looks like!” Basil flinched at his own words and shut his mouth with an audible snap. What a telling thing to say! Of course it wasn’t what it looked like! But now everyone would know exactly what he thought it looked like, and by proxy, what he’d been thinking. If possible, Basil’s cheeks burned even warmer.

Professor Thompson, Basil’s mentor (and idol) in many things, looked down at them over the bridge of his nose. He gave them too knowing of a look to be comfortable. “And what, pray tell, does it look like?”

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Agrimony Macnair

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Even in the dimness of the library, Agrimony could see the immediate flush bloom across Foxwood's cheeks as the voice behind them echoed throughout the aisles. Ignoring whatever had crossed the older boy's mind, Agrimony was about to tell him to suck it up. An elbow to his ribs changed his course of action and instead he let out a pained grunt, rolling over onto his back and slumping against the library books as Foxwood scrambled for answers. What a Ravenclaw.

And what in Merlin's name did it look like?!

Agrimony glared at Foxwood as he massaged the spot on his side, slowly getting up to stand in front of the teacher. Unbeknownst to him, the books they'd been holding were now floating to stack themselves between the two boys; the evidence to seal whatever detention was ahead of both of them. And Foxwood looked like he was about to melt into a puddle with how the professor was looking at the both of them.

Ugh.

"It was my fault, Professor Thompson." He said. "I dared Foxwood to go in the restricted section with me to get some books."

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Basil’s stomach was in absolute knots as he scrambled to his feet and stood guiltily beside Macnair. He couldn’t believe it had come to this. Any sliver of respect he’d been building with his mentor was out the window now, certainly. There was no way Professor Thompson was ever going to let him intern, much less assist in writing a proper research paper after—

Basil glanced up quickly as Macnair’s voice floated into the din between them and interrupted his rampaging thoughts. He stared at the other boy, taking the blame as effortlessly as if he was breathing. Grey hues blinked in confusion as the books they’d been carrying stacked themselves deliberately. Thompson looked from one boy to the next and raised a brow in their direction as if to ask ’is this true?’ Basil averted his gaze again and shook his head.

“No, Professor—” he corrected. “It was my ingenious idea to try and find something new, something more complex to write about for the Hex essay you assigned us this week.” He swallowed a lump building in his throat. “Macnair— he tried to stop me and, well, here we are.”

Basil felt that same blush from earlier bloom over his face again, but the lie had come much more easily with the emotion - the intention - of assisting the other behind it. Basil didn’t lie often, if in fact, ever - but he didn’t want Macnair to take the blame for this when really, it was his own fault. He didn’t know why the other had tried to cover for him - and it was sweet, in a way - but Basil knew it wasn’t right to let him.

“Well,” Thompson said then, crossing his arms. “Since both of are so willing to share the blame, you can share a detention in my office next week as well.” He selected one of the books Macnair had first tossed in Basil’s direction and eyed the cover. “And Foxwood,” he continued. “I expect that essay to positively stun after all this.” He handed Basil the text, pun and all.

Basil accepted the book cautiously, astonished he was being allowed to take the text. Thompson then shooed them off and Basil shuffled, dazed, back into the less restricted portion of the library. When they came to the door leading back into the main castle, he gave Macnair a grateful glance and shrugged awkwardly, the book still tight in his grip. “I - ah… thanks, for what you tried to do there.” He said, softly. “It was… nice.” Even if they did still get detention.

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Agrimony Macnair

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He'd expected that to be the end of it, for Foxwood to traipse off unscathed while he dealt with the brunt of the punishment. He was still blinking the pain away from their tumble when the other boy's voice promptly denied his lie. For the love of Merlin's left testicle. Of course the bloke had to behave gallantly. There was no standing for lies when it was one's professor. Agrimony stood there whilst student and professor exchanged words about the essay — Merlin that was what this was all for? He'd at least expected it to be for something less....studious.

After being dismissed, detention having been assigned to the both of them, Agrimony followed Foxwood out of the restricted section, hands stuffed into his pockets as he kept his gaze to the floor. He debated on stepping purposefully on the back of the boy's shoe, but before he could complete the thought, Foxwood pivoted towards him and he met the boy's gaze.

There was little to thank him for, they both ended up getting detention, didn't they? Agrimony shrugged, heaving his bookbag over his shoulder before reaching out and poking the book in Foxwood's hands. "I hope it was worth it. Don't forget to return the bloody thing on time, else you'll have another punishment from the librarian." Without waiting for a response, he pushed open the door to the library, but not before throwing over his shoulder. "See you 'round."

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   Basil Foxwood

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Basil didn’t know what he’d expected from Macnair, but at least the other didn’t seem overly concerned at having received detention. A small part of Basil himself was less upset about it than he should have been, since now he would have another chance to see the Slytherin again, but he promptly ignored that thought. He was intrigued by Macnair and frankly, despite the other’s evident stoicism, he seemed like a genial bloke.

Offering up a sheepish grin and a fiery blush as his book was prodded, the Ravenclaw nodded. He knew better than to be tardy with, well, anything, but it was considerate of Macnair to think of him anyway he supposed. Before he could respond however, the Slytherin was off and Basil was left standing there, clutching their book to his chest. He still felt warm under the collar as he scampered off with his prize. 

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Agrimony Macnair

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