The Charms Professor (Sean)

Grayson carried a stack of books in his arms, wandering through the aisles, and returning them to their shelves with a flick of his hand. It was late in the day, and most of the students had returned to their common rooms--only a few of the most dedicated (or desperate) researchers were still dawdling in the library, which closed in thirty minutes.

Grayson himself didn't leave the library very much. Though he hadn't been working here long, he had the library and its shelves memorized inside and out--in part because it hadn't changed much from his own days at Hogwarts. A decade ago, he never would have imagined returning to his old school. He'd left that era of his life behind him, and was not eager to revisit it. But now, now he had the chance to make happier memories of this place--and now that he'd decided to return to the United Kingdom, that seemed like the proper thing to do.

That being said, although he was enjoying his time here more than he had expected, he was feeling rather bored. He'd gotten into a routine of sorts, and wasn't sure how to break it. What was there to do, as the librarian, besides read books and occasionally chastise students? After years spent roaming the hidden corners of the world, a short break was nice, but now he found himself lacking something. He'd need to find a distraction, one of these days, to keep his life interesting.

He returned the final book to its place, and stood there for a moment, wishing something would happen.

Grayson glanced down and saw that the tip of his wand glowed a faint orange. He'd set a charm to alert him if someone was in the "dangerous" section of the library. It wasn't technically the same as the restricted section, as it had different rules, but anyone below the age of seventeen was to be kept out--and even those at or above the age of seventeen should probably be monitored. He turned and walked purposefully toward the row of shelves near the back of the library, set slightly apart from the others.

It probably wasn't a student. Most students asked for permission before perusing that section, since there was a sign warning them off. But not many professors were often seen wandering around the library either, so Grayson checked anyway.

As he turned the corner, he saw a stack of books floating behind a man. The charms professor, he remembered, recognizing the man from a few brief meetings in the dining hall. They'd never really spoken, but they were coworkers, so they'd seen each other around over the course of the year. Grayson racked his brain for the man's name, certain that he must have heard it at some point. Sam? Sean? Something like that.

He glanced at the books the man had gathered, and raised his eyebrows at the wide selection. The professor didn't seem to have a purpose behind his reading except for gathering knowledge. A rare trait, especially in adults, who were usually too busy for such things. An admirable trait, in Grayson's opinion, since he'd spent the majority of his life dedicated to the proposition that knowledge is power. He felt a surge of kinship toward anyone who felt the same.

"An interesting collection you have there," he said, leaning his shoulder on the nearest shelf and flicking the orange light out of his wand.