Letters to a wall (Chee Wye)

Anya cherished serenity. Her favourite places were places in which there was nothing but white noise. She enjoyed conversation, but it was not a necessity to her. The Hogwarts was the closest thing to serenity that she had been able to find in a while. Other than a few bodies here and there, she was alone. She sat with her quill and leather-bound notebook, beginning to draft a letter home. So far, the only words she had gotten onto the page were,

Dear Third wall to the left of the living room,

Over the duration of her time at Hogwarts, the girl had been writing letters to different parts of her home. Her father had not even bothered to send a "just checking in" letter, so she did not dare try and communicate with the distant man.

The letters to her home were mostly for the sake of writing letters. Anya enjoyed the art of letter writing. She liked to explore different headings and see how many fonts her hand could craft. Of course, she could have simply written letters that would never be sent, but what fun would there be in that?

Dear Third wall to the left of the living room,
Kak дела?* I am well, but I am still unaccompanied most of the time. I know that you would prefer that I made a friend or two, seeing as I spent most of my time in living room, alone and reading a book. For you, Third wall to the left of the living room, I suppose I could give it a try...

Just then she caught herself sending a gaze upward. There seemed to be a body venturing into the part of the library where she was positioned.
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*Kak дела?= How are you?

The library in school was something that astounded Chee Wye no end. Back home, in Malaysia public libraries weren't a common thing, and the rare ones that did exist had rather limited options, especially considering that the Government had a nasty habit of changing history textbooks on a whim to add and remove people they did or did not like. School libraries had small selections, usually old and tattered books, and the ones they did have were mostly tailored to certain religions or races. So, to come into Hogwarts and to step into such a huge place filled with just books was something Chee Wye did not think he'd ever see, with the exception of bookstores.

And, as an even bigger shock, he found that it was constantly full! People here actually put effort into their studies and not just buying the answers from teachers or older students - if that was even an option here, Chee Wye didn't know. It wasn't as though back home he had done that... often, in any case.

Having selected the books he needed for an essay, he made his way around, looking for an empty table or a table with the least amount of people on it. He needed to focus on his work and he knew that wouldn't be possible if there were too many people around. Finally, spotting what appeared to be a secluded corner, Chee Wye made his way over, and was quite pleased to notice only one other person was there.

"Excuse me, leng lui," he said, hoping he wasn't interrupting too much. "Can I join you? No other free table..." he asked, smiling slightly. [Leng lui = pretty girl, used as a friendly greeting for strangers. Translation: Excuse me, pretty girl. May I join you? There aren't any other free tables."]

"Excuse me, leng lui...Can I join you?" A brown-haired, almond-eyed male had asked her. Anya was not quite sure who the boy was, or what "leng lui" meant, but she nodded, gesturing to the dormant chairs beside the table she was sitting at. She was surprised that there had been no other tables open in the library, seeing as the library was not exactly party central. Taking her gaze away from the boy, she reread what she had written so far and she carefully closed the leather-bound notebook. Tucking it away in her bag, she pulled out a different notebook. This one was a little bit larger than the one before it and it possessed a midnight blue exterior. Anya enjoyed how the book seemed to hold a nighttime sky within its cover.

Not completely sure what she was going to write in this notebook, she turned back to the boy.
"So what brings you here?" She then noticed that he was carrying a small stack of books, all of which seemed to be nonfiction. "Schoolwork? For which class?"

"Thank you," he replied, happily, setting down his things and pulling out the chair. Opening a book, he got out a blank piece of paper and his pens. As much as quills looked interesting to write with, Chee Wye couldn't get past the notion of using a feather. Why would anyone use something they must keep dipping into ink to use, when they could just use something that already was full of ink?

Smiling at the question, he nodded. "Ya lor, what else?" he replied. "Finish homework already lar, now studying only. You leh? Doing what?" [Translation: "Yes, obviously. What else would I be doing? Actually, I've finished my homework already; I'm just studying now. What about you? What are you doing?"]

Spreading his pens (he had a few different colours) out in front of him for better note taking, he laid everything out neatly, with the textbook open to the right page and everything else he needed within reach. Coming from a Chinese school background, this was one thing Chee Wye knew to do well - study, and memorise facts. Of course, this also meant that he didn't need to understand what he was reading, only memorise, which had its drawbacks. Still, it was the only way he knew to do things, since nobody had taught him any better.

An air of uncertainty ran through Anya's mind as she listened to the boy speak. She felt bad that she did not fully understand everything that he said. She figured that people had probably felt like this around her when she first arrived in an English speaking country.

"You leh? Doing what?"

"I am writing letters back home," She responded, figuring that he had asked something along the lines of, "What are you doing?" She decided to leave out the fact that her "letters home" were quite literally, letters to her home. She gestured towards the book he was holding.
"Меня зовут А-" She paused, shaking her head in laughter. Her face turned a slight, rosy shade of red. "Sorry. My name is Anya," the Hufflepuff held out a hand to the boy.
"Do you enjoy reading? I always find that it is difficult to study if you do not enjoy reading."

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*Меня зовут=My name is

It wasn't uncommon for people to write letters home. In fact, Chee Wye did that at least once a week, lest his parents worried. After all, it was his first time overseas, and with such a huge difference to what he was used to, they were naturally concerned for his wellbeing. Of course, as a Chinese, even if he wasn't okay his letters always said he was; it was just a thing that they did, and admitting to being not okay was... well, not okay.

"Me ah? Studying lor," he answered, motioning to the books. [Translation: "Me? I'm studying."]

The different language did not fully bother Chee Wye. He didn't understand it, yes, but he was used to that. Malaysia had many languages, and when meeting new people, if they didn't understand English, he would go down his list to find something they did have in common, be it Cantonese, Hokkien, Malay, or something else.

"Chee Wye," he introduced, accepting the hand.

At the question, he shrugged. "Okay-okay lah. Memorise fact only what. No need to like or don't like." Reading was... necessary for studying, but he saw no point in doing it recreationally. Why spend time indoors with a book when he could be outside or with friends? [Translation: "It's not too bad. You only need to memorise facts, though. There's no need to like it or dislike it!"]

"Memorise fact only what. No need to like or don't like."

Anya's blue eyes widened slightly. She had never really thought of reading as simple memorization. She liked to dive into what she was reading, even if it was just something for a class. She enjoyed reaching an understanding with the piece. In stories, she enjoyed having a mental relationship with each character. She liked to wonder what they'd be like in person.

"But do you understand anything you read?" Anya asked him. "If you simply memorize, how do you analyze what is on the page? How do you form an opinion on the reading?" she continued the confused interrogation. She felt sorry for the boy. He probably hadn't come to the library hoping to be interrogated by a bookworm.

"i'm sorry," the Hufflepuff added. "I am a rather large fan of reading."