𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑 / @bcjr.
emmeline burst through the doors of the library, feeling a little like a headless chicken (words she would never, ever express to nearly headless nick, who she had been somewhat fascinated by since first year, for obvious reasons) and ignoring the way pince stared at her, pinched expression as they raised their hand in apology before scrambling down the center of the library. they’d left their three most important textbooks (and a roll of parchment) on the table in the far left corner, the one with the rather large armchair they sometimes took a nap in instead of doing work (hey, who could blame them, that armchair was comfy). they’d almost made it there, before they nearly collided with someone’s chair, clutching their magical beasts textbook to their chest. they spluttered for only a second, teetering on their feet - glad, for once, that they hadn’t fallen and ended up in the hospital wing because they couldn’t stay on their feet. “oh, merlin’s - fucking, sorry. crouch. i didn’t - didn’t see you there.”