Incaffeinating You PV Anastasia Finished

Anastasia hated everything. Absolutely everything.

Like, she was considering murdering everyone in her path. Now, murder was a distrubing normal subject of thought for the 13 year old, but not quite this constant.

That probably had to do with the fact that she hadn't slept last night or the night before, and the Tuesday night that she had slept, she had only gotten 4 or so hours. The only thing keeping her from fainting with exhaustion was her constant consumption of coffee. Literally, she had lost count of how much she had drunk in the past, um, how many hours. She considered doing the math, then stopped when she realized that it was more than 48. She honestly didn't need to know that. She would sleep probably all weekend and be fine. That was what she hoped anyway. 

The young girl was in rare form. She was abnormally cranky and snappish(even for her), she was pretty sure she was hallucinating at this point due to lack of sleep, and her stomach and head were killing her. She was also pretty sure that she was on the verge of a caffeine overdose, based on the way her heart was racing. Nonetheless, Anastasia was nothing if not stubborn. She just had to make it another twelve hours or so, and then she could pass out in her lovely comfy bed.

Another thing that was less than ideal was her appearance. She still looked far better than most people could hope to in their entire life, make no mistake of that, but for her, she looked like a zombie. She was barely able to conceal the enormous bags under her eyes, which would be highly noticeable due to her fair complexion. Her uniform was still perfectly styled, but she had just about given up on her usual intricate braids and her normal perfect accessories were replaced by her single golden A necklace. 

As she reached the Gryffindor table, she looked for a seat next to someone who didn't look talkative. There were two types of students this early in the Great Hall - the insane morning people and the people who were half asleep. Normally, Anastasia wasn't here this early, but she figured this was as good a place as any to sleep, and she needed more coffee anyway. 

Finding a seat next to a sleeping blond boy, Anastasia shoveled food into her face until she looked rather like a chipmunk. Her mother would be livid, but Ana figured the more she put in at once, the fewer times she would have to put food in. Chewing, she furiously wrote on the parchment that was going to soon contain an essay. She assumed it was for Astronomy, based on the subject, but she honestly didn't know at this point. 

As she reached the bottom of the parchment, she reread the assignment on her planner. She had mistaken a 3 for an 8 and written an entire essay about the wrong sign of the Zodiac. She crumpled up the offending parchment and hurled it across the room. She let out a moan that would have woken the dead and placed her head in her hands for a moment. She snapped back up after a moment though, since her eyelids had grown heavy. Taking a concerningly large swig of her enormous cup, or really, her vat of coffee, she pulled out a new piece of parchment and began again on the stupid essay, after double-checking the assignment to make sure she was writing about the correct subject.

The sound of knives and forks clinking against silver plates grew distant. The smell of sausages and jams as if disappeared. Scott was falling asleep, and though he knew it was a terribly bad idea, he didn't feel much like stopping himself.

If it hadn't been for the sudden noise, the piercing groan somewhy erupting from his right a couple of minutes later, Scott would've probably drifted off into a far away dream... So he supposed, in his bitter honesty, that he should be thankful for whatever dispirited creature had decided to take the seat next to his... After all, he never enjoyed being late for class. Or dropping his sleeping head into a bowl of porridge. Both very poor ways of starting off a Friday, he was sure most would agree.

But he couldn't exactly bring himself to thank anyone at the moment- as only an inaudible yawn escaped him.

Turning his now awoken head very sleepily to one side, Scott could open his eyes slightly and look out without really drawing any attention to himself. And that, he soon realised, was a very good thing. The girl next to him didn't seem at all like someone you'd want to notice you unprepared.

Anastasia, because that's the girl Scott recognised her as, looked wildly different from when he last saw her. Then, in the library, she'd seemed to him very small, shy and careful... Albeit somewhat awkward. Somewhat. Now, she looked positively murderous! Scott's sleepy eyes followed her upset movements tentatively, and found that she was currently scribbling the life out of a piece of parchment. The sound of the quill was almost as piercing as her frustrated moan had been before.

Something about how the beaten-looking girl was taking religious swigs of her tea or coffee, had Scott suspecting that she was just as tired as he was. Something about the way her hair had been tucked back lazily in a ponytail, had him suspecting that she was as little a morning person, too...

Scott began to wonder wether he should say anything to her. She seemed very busy, that was true, and not at all like she was in the mood for a chat- but didn't she also look like that's exactly what she needed? Scott asked himself this, pretending he wasn't just looking for a good enough distraction to keep him awake, and decided that even though his grandparents might advocate for this day to be about misery- he wasn't going to let his housemate spiral into madness.

After all, he was pretty sure he had already witnessed that happening.

"What's that you got there, Anastasia? Astronomy? I don't blame your animosity. It's not my favourite, either."

Speaking in a care-free voice, Scott's sentence ended in another yawn- accompanied by his elbows finally leaving the table so he could stretch his arms like a young girl in a movie.

"Is it due today? I feel for you if it is, I never manage to throw something decent together the last minute. I suppose some people have that talent, though... Do you? It looks like a lot, at least, which is promising."

Smiling carefully at her (the opportunity to speak finally waking him up enough to sit straight and keep his eyes open), Scott reached for a bread roll and a particular jar of jam on the other side of the girl, apologising for stretching his arm behind her back immediately, as if it was a reflex.

"But I'd advice against ripping the parchment in half. Though our dear professors value passion in our work, legibility is still a priority."

Anastasia was in her own little bubble of caffeine and rage. 

Coffee, sleep deprivation, and teenage hormones were a surprisingly potent combination when it came to productivity. Anastasia didn't much care that she'd been working on old assignments in addition to current ones the entire week, since, in her eyes, it was about to be completely worth it. The only subject she hadn't fully caught up on this week was Astronomy. She was mildly regretting saving her least favorite class for last but figured she wouldn't have any motivation at this point no matter what subject it was, so it was just as well it was one she didn't value very highly. She was about to December in her least favorite class, which meant she only had another 3 or so months of assignments to catch up on and she would be golden. She knew she could do that this week.

The girl looked rather like Alexander Hamilton with her furious scribbling and furrowed brow. There was some muggle play she'd seen while she was in New York that reminded her of this moment. One song, in particular, seemed to be running through her head. She wanted to yell that she was, in fact, running out of time, which was why she was writing as though she was, and if it wasn't too much of an inconvenience, would they please stop singing?

As the stupid song continued and actually somehow got louder, a voice next to her began to speak. She was on the verge of shoving her wand up the person's nose and into their brain when she realized it was Scott. At that moment, her coffee decided to go down her windpipe and she began choking on it. This was quite possibly the worst way to die - choking to death on a mouthful because she was startled by a cute boy. She clapped her napkin to her mouth and continued coughing until she could finally breathe again. She was just glad she hadn't covered them both in coffee or anything. Now, that would have been a tragedy. It's gonna happen

He looked totally different than the last time she had seen him. His blonde hair was rather rumpled and he sounded almost as tired as she felt. It was really unfair that he wore his exhaustion so much better than her. Unfair in general, and unfair to her at this moment. She felt like an actual goblin and he looked and sounded like an adorable sleepy leprechaun.

"I'm- um- yes, Astronomy," she said, the song and all other brain function for that matter seeming to give way to an insane chipmunk running around and screaming in her head. When he asked about the due date, she blushed a bit. It was no secret that she was rather behind in some of her classes since she had been gone for 7 out of the 9 months of the school year, but it was still embarrassing for the perfectionist to talk about to anyone, much less Scott. "I-uh- it was due December actually, but I didn't do it until now since I was gone, so it wasn't due for me, but now I'm doing it."

What was that mess? Was she trying to get the world record for the most times a person could say the word "do" or "due" in one breath? In any event, she was sure she sounded like a babbling idiot. As she pondered her idiocy, she was suddenly very aware that Scott's arm was around her. Not that she would have thought it possible, but her brain somehow began to function even less. She laughed a little too hard at his comment about ripping her parchment in half and tried to think of something, anything really, to say. "Legibility is important for lots of things. Like birth certificates, cause you could go your entire life being called the wrong name if that's not legible. Death certificates as well,  I suppose, since they have to be able to tell who died," she said matter of factly. WHAT THE EVER LOVING HELL? Stop talking about death. In an attempt to prevent any further malarky spouting from her mind, she took another giant gulp of coffee. 

"Legibility is important for lots of things. Like birth certificates, cause you could go your entire life being called the wrong name if that's not legible. Death certificates as well, I suppose, since they have to be able to tell who died,"

"Yes... quite so."

Scott watched the girl interrupt herself with a large swig of coffee again, and the perplexed look he'd assumed the day they met in the library once again occupied him. He could've sworn she'd looked completely different this time- not nervous or shaken, but focused and alert. Like maybe this time he wouldn't have caught her in an awkward mood... And so he felt bad, because maybe this meant it was only unpleasant talking with him.

But then again, she was doing a lot of the talking herself.

"You said you were gone, before. Where to? Now that you mention it, it has been a while since I saw you around... Don't remember when that was. What kind of awful place could it have been where you couldn't even do your transfiguration assignments?" He leaned in a bit towards her with a serious face, and whispered: "If it was prison, I won't judge you..."

Then he laughed and took a bite of his sandwich as he returned back. The truth was, if Anastasia had been to prison (which he still, in spite of all signs, doubted) he would very much not like to know. Not until lunch time, at least, when he'd be awake enough to shuffle a little farther away from her.

"Are you not eating? I didn't think I would. Too tired. But you know that, you caught me drifting away! Would've been terrible if I fell asleep, though, earlier... not good at all. I have charms. As in, the class. And besides, if I fell asleep, I would've missed the opportunity to speak with you! The ex-con. Very thrilling."

Scott began pouring himself a cup of the beverage closest to him, some dark tea, and looked over to Anastasia from the corner of his eye in investigation.

"Unless I'm keeping you. Wouldn't want to do that, of course. Due in December and all. I could sit and eat jam and drink tea in silence, like the proper Englishman I almost am, and leave you alone to your work if you'd like."

Scott ended the offer with a small toast of his cup before he drank from it, and smiled. He'd woken up properly now, at least, and a day didn't have to end up boring just because it started with silence.

Scott was looking at her as though he was confused by her. That was normal for her, confusing boys, but this look was different than what she was used to. It looked rather like she was speaking some insane language and he only spoke bits and pieces of it. Superb, just superb...

She smiled when he asked where she had been. That was promising. First off, it meant that he was, in fact, not completely averse to speaking to her at all, and secondly, it was an opportunity for her to look well-traveled and impressive. She could sprinkle in the fact she'd become fluent in French and Italian and was working on Chinese. WAIT. He thought she'd been in prison?!? Her normally pale face turned even whiter than normal. Look at her! How could anyone think she would last five minutes in prison?

"I- we went to Italy, and nobody was in prison there. And France, a couple places, Provence, Paris, Nice, no imprisonment there either," she said earnestly. She could hardly remember where she'd spent the last year, and she would be absolutely screwed if he asked what she'd done. "And, um, Brazil, India, China, and I think Russia. Oh, and Spain and Africa. And Poland. I wasn't in prison any of those places either. Swallowing another sip of coffee, she thought for a moment. Oh, she'd forgotten the place she'd been the longest. "Oh, and New York, I was there from March to January, er - this January to March, I mean. That only because my aunt died. Which I wasn't involved in any way, shape, or form. She was just old and sick and she died. Oh, and we saw this fascinating muggle play about this old man who died in a duel."

Well, that definitely sounded like Ana had murdered her aunt. She had to talk about something, anything else. Not that it would matter since she was apparently a murderer now. She racked her brain for anything else to talk about. It was useless. Fortunately, Scott seemed to have moved on to another subject. She could have kissed him for that. Frankly, she could have kissed him period. He was being so kind and she was an utter and complete mess. "Oh, I'm not that hungry. Coffee is really what I live off of," she said lightly, managed to sound like a normal person. WAIT, ex-con?

Good lord, he really thought she was a criminal. Excellent... "No, I don't mind. And I'm not a criminal or anything," she said, trying to set her coffee down. She was suddenly aware of exactly how much her hands were shaking from the amount of coffee she was drinking. Perfect! Now he would think that she was insane as well as a criminal. Setting her cup down on what she thought was the table, she glanced back at him. Just in time to realize that she had infact set her cup on some random cutlery and it had tipped over and spilled all over him.

She wanted to become a turtle. Or a snail. Really any animal that could hide would be perfect. "Oh, my goodness, I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed, vaguely glad that it wasn't a new cup, so it was closer to lukewarm than boiling. Not that that would help her, since the cup was so huge, it was like at least two full regular mugs were being spilled."I wasn't looking where i put it. I'm so sorry. I clearly need more sleep and a lot more coffee.

Scott was about to chuckle at her nerves. About to reassure her that of course she wasn't a criminal, and that he was only messing about! But now, maybe, she'd have to live without that knowledge for who knows how long- because he didn't get the chance to say any of it.

Instead, he yelped loudly in surprise at the sudden shower of coffee that came splashing over his lap and right robe sleeve.

"Oh!"

Scuffling away from her instinctively, probably hitting the next student over in the haste, Scott stood up very fast and held out the side of his stained robes some inches away from his shirt. He grimaced automatically at the sensation.

Scott didn't like getting dirty. Or soaked. And he definitely didn't like his robes getting dirty. ...Or soaked. It made him queasy, almost worried him. Wether there were any clearer signs of his upbringing in his behaviour than that was uncertain.

"Oh, uh... Oh my. Won't you look at that."

Trying very hard to somehow morph his expression into something friendly again, Scott attempted a smile towards Anastasia before he shook his robes off his shoulders and laid them down on the dry bench between the two in a hurry.

"Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry! I wasn't looking where i put it. I'm so sorry. I clearly need more sleep and a lot more coffee."

"Oh no," Scott sung with a nervous laugh. "No I don't think you do. No more coffee. It's alright. It's fine. It's alright."

Stopping in his hurried motion for a second and actually looking at the girl again, Scott finally smiled for real after a breath or two. She looked absolutely horrified with herself... This was of course not the reason as to why he was smiling, that'd be terrible of him, but he was beginning to realise just how silly he was behaving. It was only coffee, after all. And not even that hot... She was undoubtedly having the worse time between the two of them. Poor girl. Did these things always happen to her? It'd explain a lot.

"It's alright." He said a third time, but calmer this once. "Really. Couldn't even begin to tell you how often I do that myself."

The truth was, of course, that he didn't ever do it. But Scott felt like this was just something you said, and that it didn't matter if it was true or not.

Picking his robe up before him again, Scott scavenged through its inner pockets until he could pull out his wand from one of them.

"You're a second-year, aren't you? Have you learned the cleaning spell yet? I don't mean to condescend, I just don't remember when I did..."

Scott, himself, eventually decided on casting a hot-air charm over his own robe. With a quick Aer Calidus and a flick of his wand, he was soon as if blowing the sleeve dry all around with a hair dryer.

"I only meant, you know, for the table... And the bench. Did it stain your essay? Oh don't tell me it did, that'd be terrible!"

Scott felt his robes with a troubled expression. They were dry alright, and fairly warm, too- but it wasn't water she'd spilled.

"I might... Well, I might have to get changed actually. Don't worry, it's not a problem. I'll just... Well."

Laughing shortly, Scott gestured to his knees and the bottom of his shirt with what he hoped were light-hearted movements. He knew both a drying and cleaning spell, but wasn't so confident in his own abilities that he'd start trying every other charm out with the clothes still on his back. He had too many fingers to lose.

"Can't say you didn't manage to wake me up, at least, can I? Good job on that, I appreciate it. Now! Thank you for keeping me company..." Scott struggled out of his seat and folded his black robes over his shoulder, rolling up his wet sleeves to his elbows to escape the uncomfortable sensation.

"And good luck with astronomy. Because, not that I particularly believe in signs, but the stars don't seem to align in your favour, Anastasia."

@Scott Alexander

Anastasia wasn't a person who prayed often, but at that particular point in time, she was praying for a hole to open up and swallow her. Or a bludger to come flying out of nowhere and knock her out. Or a troll to attack the castle and kidnap her. Really anything to get her out of this nightmarish situation. Things like this never ever happened to Anastasia Beckett. Sure, they might happen to other people, but Anastasia wasn't other people. At least, she didn't like to think she was.

Scott's reaction made her feel a bit better but only marginally. He was clearly just being kind, and she rather wished he would stop that. Yes, she wished he would be an ass about this, and then she could continue about her life and nothing like this would ever happen to her again. Instead, he had chosen to rudely to be kind and gracious about her dumping things on him, which was making things worse.

She smiled tensely at him saying she didn't need more coffee. No, what she clearly needed desperately was more sleep, but seeing as that was not an option, coffee would have to suffice for now. When Scott repeated that it really was alright, Anastasia glanced at him for a moment like he was made of gold. It was just a moment before she turned her focus back to this disaster. Bloody hell, why couldn't he just be a stuck up snotty ass?

"I-um- I yes, I know the cleaning charm," she said, glancing at her things. Her bookbag and essay were safe, although she had definitely gotten some on her robes and the floor. "And- uh- my essay's alright. I really am terribly sorry about all this."

She was gradually regaining her composure, although that really wasn't saying much since she was still a mess. She nodded when Scott said he would go change and mentally scolded herself for the thoughts that instantly popped into her mind at that subject.

When Scott thanked her for keeping him company, Ana smiled. Unlike her awkward tense smiles that generally appeared around the Prefect, this one was real and bright. She didn't smile like this often anyway, but it was a rare genuine smile from the young pureblood. "I - ah- Any time. I promise I won't spill coffee on you next time we see one another," she said. Next time? What was that supposed to mean? That sounded as though he wouldn't turn the other way and run every time he saw her in the halls after this. If their positions were reversed, she knew that was exactly what she would have done. But, after how nice he had been, there was a small part of Ana that hoped and genuinely believed that he would in fact not be completely averse to speaking to her again. Sure, under different circumstances, but this wasn't the worst thing ever.

She let out a nervous chuckle when he noted that the stars didn't seem to be aligning for her. No, they did not. Once the blond boy was gone, Ana quickly cleaned her robes and her seat. She sat again and stared at the wall for a moment before burying her face in her hands. What on Earth was wrong with her? She had spoken to boys before (without assaulting them) and it had always been easy and rather fun for her. Why was this one boy affecting her like this? She let out a groan and her right elbow slipped. As though her day had not already gotten off to a terrible enough start, her head fell right into the table and she heard an audible thunk. Well, that was just perfect. Not only would she be a sleep-deprived mess all day, but she would also be sporting an absolutely ravishing lump in the middle of her forehead.