What, you don't like potions?

Naomi was desperately unimpressed by her plans for the evening. It was one thing to sit there and listen to Apollo talking about potions all day, but another entirely to realize that she had an essay due in that very subject. He didn't, though. Stupid sixth years. Worse, yet, he'd insisted upon joining her in the study hall, feet up on the desk as he wrote in some journal or other. Maybe he was, actually, working on something. Naomi wasn't sure she cared. It was only when he muttered something to himself every now and then that she even bothered to remember he was there.

Mainly because it pissed her off.

"Maybe," she muttered sharply, "if you keep talking to that notebook it'll actually answer you one day. Or maybe," Naomi added, turning around in her chair to glare at him, "I'll put a hole through it."

Apollo lifted his gaze, watching her over the top of the notebook as he leaned it against his knees. His eyes narrowed for a moment, but he just went back to writing. Naomi rolled her eyes and turned to her parchment and books, which she'd spread across the top of the table. This was going to take a million times longer, now that she knew he was sitting there doing something and that he hadn't taken the bait to get up and leave. She ran a hand through her curls, trying to pull her focus back in.

When she sighed, Apollo's feet fell to the floor, loudly. "What, you don't like potions? I thought you made it clear to everybody that you do."

Disdain flickered across her face but she sat back in her chair, swinging her legs around so she could half face him. "Of course I do. It's you that bothers me. Why don't you just trounce off and do whatever it is you do besides fix your hair."

"Hah," he shook his head - obviously making a point about his hair, she decided - and closed the journal. "Says you." Apollo set the notebook down and crossed his arms over the top of it as he leaned forward. "What's the essay on?"

"Asphodel," Naomi said, her tone as cold and biting as ever, even for something so simple.

Apollo's eyebrows lifted for a moment but he looked down and then sat back. "How much have you gotten done?"

She squinted at him but lifted the more-than-half-empty parchment to show him. He chuckled, but pushed himself up and picked up his notebook. "Alright. Look, I've gotta go if I still want to make dinner."

"You didn't go earlier?" She asked, frowning.

"No, I was avoiding my brother. But he'll be busy by now. I tricked him into helping a second year tonight." Apollo shrugged. "Anyway, I'm heading out. If you head to Hogsmeade tomorrow," he added as he started out, pausing with his back to the door, "let me know. I'm thinking of hitting up Honeydukes." His eyes widened sarcastically, but she just rolled her eyes again.

"Yeah, right. You do that."

He gave her a mock salute before pushing the door open with his back and heading out. That just left Naomi, her purple-streaked hair, and thousands of words left to write. Groaning, she collapsed onto her arms for a moment before gathering herself up and trying to get back to work.

It had been a long day.

Brushing her hair away from her face, Fensa studied her reflection.  The bathroom mirror was hardly an enchanted mirror, and consequently, the verdict was harsh and really very eye-opening.

She looked tired.

Now being tired was nothing new, but the redhead had never been able to see her dark circles so clearly before.  Somehow, the girl had been under the impression that they would always disappear after a morning shower, day after day.  She had counted on that.  Yet here she was, the time going on four o'clock, staring at herself in the mirror and observing quite plainly that her features were almost haggard.  That wasn't quite the right word, really, but it was close.  Her light had dimmed just a bit, so to say, and Fensa did not like it.

She shook her head vigorously and cranked the right handle until water was gushing into the basin like there was no tomorrow.  Cupping the icy liquid, she splashed a generous amount over her face.  It was freezing against her eyelids, but it woke her up.  Fensa might be focused on her studies, but she was as conscientious of her appearance as any other fourteen-year-old girl, and she understood that tiredness was not attractive.

Speaking of her studies, now that her... concentration... had been restored, in more ways than one, the girl decided she might as well get to working.  Picking up her textbooks and a few pieces of parchment, Fensa slung her already-stuffed bag over her shoulder.  Now just to find a nice, workable space, and this day would go from positively meh to ordinary.

The library wasn't packed, but there were enough people for the place to be loud and much too unruly for her taste.  Instead, the girl ventured up onto the Fourth Floor.  Sometime a few days ago, she had discovered a mostly-unused Study Room up there.  It should serve her needs nicely.  Remembering the comfortable, if not soft armchairs that had littered the room, Fensa quickened her pace.  Perhaps she was not quite as awake as she thought herself to be, if the notion of curling up into a ball and relaxing was so attractive.

She opened the door hastily as soon as she reached it.  Hurrying forwards, the girl dumped her books on the floor next to the nearest armchair, which happened to be facing away from the doorway.  That was fine, it would just be a bit unnerving to have her back facing the door, unbeknownst to Fensa whether someone was entering or not.

Just as she was about to plop down onto the aforementioned piece of furniture, the girl noticed that there was a dark haired girl sitting across from her.  Plainly, the redhead had barged into here and completely ignored her presence, possibly disturbing her work.  Fensa straightened up, ready to try her best to articulate an apology, when she caught sight of the occupant of the room was.

"Naomi?"  The other girl was a classmate of sorts, if nothing else.  Maybe she could help Fensa with... ah, yes, there it was!  She had struggled briefly but finally managed to yank the sheafs of parchment out from between her heavy textbooks, stacked on top and below the paper.  "Have you already done the Potions essay?"  Wasn't she rumored to be half-obsessed with the subject or something?

Oh wait, the apology.  Ahh, how rude of her.  "I-uh, I'm sorry.  Er, I wasn't aware that this room was being used..." that had possibly been made clear by her bumbling actions, but maybe not.  With any luck, Fensa would be able to stay.  She was actually quite in need of advice on the assignment, since Potions was, admittedly, not her best subject.  Even if she was pulling off a decently high grade.

When the door flew open, Naomi didn't really look up. Instead, her gaze flicked upwards, irritation forcing her expression into a blank slate. Granted, probably an intimidating one, if she had anything to say about it. She was mostly annoyed, though, so she couldn't tell if it worked.

Then again, her fellow fourth year looked shocked, so Naomi took it as a win. Even if just her presence caused it. Tilting her chin, the Slytherin's eyes drifted towards Fensa. The question was a foolish one, really, and Fensa should've known that Naomi wouldn't hide the fact that she thought so.

"No." She said, gesturing towards the parchment and the textbooks spread out in front of her. Why hadn't Apollo stopped her in the hall to chat or something?

Oh, right. Because he was making himself into even more of a pariah than her, somehow. Stupid boy.

A sardonic smile pulled at Naomi's lips when the fourteen-year-old apologized. "Yeah, well." She tilted her head, flattening her lips into a line. But then she had a genius idea. If she wanted to get away from Fensa, which obviously the new Naomi Mulciber would, perhaps she could use it as incentive to finish her essay more quickly. It was perfect.

"I don't care if you stay," she decided aloud, acting like it was entirely normal to invite people to hang out with her. "But don't expect help on your essay just because you're sitting here. It doesn't work like that."

The girl automatically smiled in relief as her fellow fourth year replied that No, she had not finished her essay. That boded well for Fensa, since the girl was hoping she could receive some kind of assistance on it. Just as the redhead was settling herself comfortably into the chair across from Naomi, she noticed the odd smile tugging at the other girl's lips.

'Yeah well. I don't care if you stay, but don't expect any help on your potions essay...'

Fensa started in shock. That- that wasn't her intention, really! Sure, it would have been nice, but did Naomi really think she was that transparent? Like, the only reason was that she wanted help with an assignment? Grades were important to Fensa, but she also kind of was lonely; aside from her housemates, the Ravenclaw knew just about no one beyond an acquaintance level.

Granted, though, it didn't seem like Naomi was interested in any kind of chit-chat or friendly banter. The girl gave off an aura like an ice-queen with a sour attitude. Really, Fensa herself wasn't sure how much she wanted to associate with the dark haired Slytherin.

"I don't care," she settled for as a response. The girl thought she felt Naomi's eyes on her, but the younger girl refused to look up to check. Eye contact was the last thing she needed-- it would shatter the half-courage that she had scraped up to stay in the room. Without it, Fensa would have fled right after realizing she was not welcome here.

"Do you... how's Anabelle?" She was planning to ask if Naomi thought asphodel had any common uses aside from as an ingredient in the Draught of Living Death. Unfortunately, the latter question had slipped out of her mouth instead. Fensa hadn't spent a whole lot of time with her sister lately, and she had unconsciously hoped that Naomi would somehow have information related to Freyja. Was-- was that so silly of her? Naomi couldn't hate her sister that much...

Naomi nodded absentmindedly when Fensa gave her retort. She didn't really care, either, but at least this one had some bite as well. That was interesting, if not amusing, so the Slytherin supposed that things could be much worse.

...Maybe she just needed to stop thinking. Because as soon as she decided that, the Ravenclaw spoke again. And Naomi was not impressed. Not in the slightest. Surely the sister of Anabelle's best friend had to know how much the Mulciber sisters struggled to get along. In fact, Naomi would claim that she hated her sister, if ever asked about it.

So her quill halted halfway through the word poison, and a deep glare was what met Fensa's curiosity.

"..What makes you think I would know that?" Naomi snapped, her anger tightening her mouth, and - in turn - her words. And although she could've said more, the idea that she might make the other girl uncomfortable with her stare, instead, was the more interesting option. So she just waited.