Study Room

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Agree to Disagree  PV Clem Larch   Abandoned 

Labor omnia vincit improbus.

Usually, Cel liked to hang out in the library. Sometimes her dorm room, too, and by the lake when Dorian made her go outside. And if professors let her use their classrooms, sometimes there, too. The Study Room was a place that she used more than the Grounds, but less than the Library, and less than her dorm. While in the Library, she had her own little corner that was bound by unspoken contract to be mostly hers and hers alone, and in her dorm she could hide in her own little corner, the Study Room was where she's sometimes get ambushed for conversation. What could she say? It wasn't like she could just hide in the corner in here, because everyone was in the corner. There were just too many people for her to feel safe.

Unfortunately, someone had the ignorance to steal her spot at the Library, and her dorm had—shudder—people in it right now. Well, a lot of people! was completely unrelated to the fact that her desk had been covered in parchment and coffee mugs for the past few weeks. Maybe a little related, but only a little. A tiny bit. Well, there was no way she was going outside unless Dorian made her, because the grass poked her legs too much and the sun always got in her eyes, and she didn't want to have to ask any professors to use their classrooms. So, Study Room it was. Who knew? Maybe she'd get lucky today.

And that was how she ended up hunched over a table covered in papers, pretty much multitasking on two different homework subjects, since they covered similar subjects. Cuaditch, Quidditch. Whatever. Flying homework was on the history of Quidditch, and there was a similar question on History of Magic, that one guy who revolutionized Quidditch by adding in the Snitch, so... why not, right? If she got bored of writing for one topic, or just got writer's block, she could switch to the other one. Easy enough.

She was on a roll.

Seriously, though, with one magical earbud in, connected to the Ravenclaw speaker-crystal-things that she'd yet to decide what to name, and the other dangling free, this might have been the best work station she'd made for herself outside of her dorm or sometimes the library. A mug of coffee stood vigil within her reach maybe a few inches away from a half-finished bar of chocolate. Ink droplets had spilled where she wasn't careful enough with her quill, but that was okay, because they were too far away for her to accidentally brush over with her sleeves. Parchment was scattered all around her, some crumpled and some torn. Her hair was a mess. She probably looked insane.

In other words, all was well.

It might have been the best peace she'd gotten since coming back for her Third Year. Hopping over the Atlantic and visiting America hadn't exactly been on the plan for the summer, but then all of her summer was unplanned, and she was absolutely great with that. Jetlag had sucked, but it had gone away with time, and now Cel was back at school, ready to face whatever happened to unfold upon her. That little spat—maybe more than a little—with Ami hadn't been resolved, but she'd realized that Color-Changing Charms weren't that hard to ask Parker to do for her, and Svana hadn't found out. Thank god, too; if she had, Cel would probably be withheld from coming back. She still left a streak of the green color on her right, though, but it was easily hidden in a braid when she needed it to be. Right now it was tangled somewhere beneath the other night-black strands... somewhere.

Nobody had even tried to talk to her yet, which was a relief. Either they wanted to catch up, or they wanted help, or they wanted tips, or they wanted something, whatever it was, they always wanted something. Even Dorian wanted something, even if it was just for her to go outside. He meant well. But Cel didn't need to go outside to feel great right now, though it proved an effective cure for some of her melancholy at times. Right now, she was scribbling madly with her quill. And it felt productive.
For reference, this is what she was writing. If you're a professor, you might not want to open this for the sake of anonymity, I just wanted to make sure Clem had something to go off of.

Barberus Bragge was a wizard known for his position as a Chief of the Wizard's Council during or around the thirteenth century, one of the oldest chiefs or chieftainesses recorded. He was apparently also a Quidditch enthusiast. His effects on both the Wizard's Council and on Quidditch earned him a place on a Gold Chocolate Frog Card, the rarest tier of card available.

During the thirteenth century, the word Quidditch had yet to be coined. Instead, there existed a predecessor of the modern game, a form of broomstick sport known as Cuaditch. At first, the game began with enchanted boulders serving as Bludgers, was played on crudely designed broomsticks, and boasted a different set of terminology: Chasers were known as Catchers, for example, although in my opinion the word Catcher would be more suited for the role of Keeper than Chaser.

Now, at the time, another sport known as Snidget-Hunting had grown popular among the wizarding community, especially because of its challenge: the Golden Snidget, a tiny golden bird with spinning wings, was known for its incredible speed and evasive abilities. Apparently, the sport had also caught Bragge's attention. Upon his attendance of the 1269 game of Kent, he released a Snidget into the field, kept in the playing area by Repelling Charms, and offered one hundred fifty galleons to the flyer skilled enough to catch it.

After some excitement, a spectator named Modesty Rabnott used a Summoning Charm on the bird, intending to release it from what she believed to be a cruel practice. She was caught and fined for disrupting the game, but she succeeded in sparing the creature's life.

And so Cuaditch evolved to include one more player with one more role, charged with catching the Snidget released into the game. Eventually Snidgets were declared endangered by a later Chieftainess of the Wizard's Council, Elfrida Clagg, due to their declining numbers, and replaced by the Golden Snitch, a mechanical alternative designed by artificer Bowman Wright. Regardless, Bagge's introduction of the creature into the medieval game was a sure step in the evolution of the magical community's most revered sport—it's difficult to imagine Quidditch without a Snitch and a Seeker these days.