So he had scared her. Dammit, she even gasped, which was shocking to say the least. It looked as though she wasn’t offended, good, good. Things were good. Bran rocked back and forth on his heels. She’d nodded her head, well that meant that she was in the library. Understandable, the library was quiet, the most quiet place Bran knew except when it wasn’t.
He was aiming to open his mouth again when she held up a finger. Shush, Bran thought. Quiet, she doesn’t want you to speak. He nodded, brow raising in confusion as she put a hand in her shirt a bit…Weird, weird. Maybe she got-, well he didn’t know exactly. He furrowed his brow now, confused as ever.
Then he saw it was a small token on a cord it looked like. His eyes widened when he realized that it was a coin, one of those coins for the competition. She had it about her neck and he wondered why. He shook his head, raising a finger to point at it, “Is that mine?” Was it his? It could very well be…That may be why she had shown him. It would’ve been odd to just show him someone else’s coin about the neck.
Though why would she be wearing his token? That was even stranger, though he had given it to her. Maybe she was prone to holding onto things. He wasn’t going to think too much of it though, and make it weird. It was nice, though, weird, but nice.
Hannah kept a habit of collecting things. She had a box - a wooden box - laying underneath her bed with a few small trinkets. Inside, she kept a broken quill that she had found lying about in the library when she was in her second year. There was also a card that she had found on the floor when she was walking around Hogsmeade - it was a playing card, a three of hearts - and on the opposite was scribbled a name, Lucille. There was a thimble she had found lying around in the kitchens one night and she snuck it into her pocket when the house elves weren’t looking around. Last, she had a broken pocket watch she found in the old drawer where her father used to keep his things; before he packed it away in a suitcase and never came back.
None of them had any use anymore. What was she going to do with a broken quill, a lost card - tattered and stepped on, a thimble, and broken pocket watch? Nothing. But she kept them close to the point of being quite possessive of them. It was something that she could call her own. And each, she realized, had a story to tell. The broken quill tired from being held on to tightly, snapped with the pressure against the parchment. The playing card, lying on the busy streets of Hogsmeade, was a lost love letter. A thimble… A broken pocket watch…
There weren’t a lot of things she asked; so, she was never given too many things. So, when Bran had given her the coin, she took it and kept it close with fear from loosing it and never finding it again. The thin leather from where the coin hung helped to keep the coin close. She treasured too many things (and yet not enough) too closely.
Is that mine? he asked her.
She quickly nodded.
Who else could it be, she wondered, because she didn’t have many friends. (Actually, she didn’t have any friends at all. It seemed as though no one had enough patience to talk to her…) Because Bran was her friend, although… was he, really? What was it like to have friends? Suddenly she began to worry that she was just assuming things… what if Bran wasn’t her friends and she thought that they were? That (she sighed at the thought of it) was embarrassing.
OOC: AMANDA’S INTRO POST
That was the disturbing part, not the quiet, but the feeling that he was being followed. Bran didn’t quite like that at all, but he kept walking, determined to make it down to see if they had any lemon cake in the Great Hall. He realized he hadn’t known what time it was. Who knew if there would be any food in the Great Hall at all?! Then again there were the kitchens, a short cut to lemon cake and the elves would make it for him if they were lacking any. Not that he liked taking advantage of the little beasts for they were quite nice to him in any respect, after one incident with an elderly elf who’s name he could not remember…In any case, that particular elf didn’t like him much, he said something about his grandfather.
If that was so, this elf would’ve had to been ancient, his grandfather had to have been here maybe 50 or more years ago! Still, the elf had cursed him and twelve year old Brandon was afraid to go back to the kitchens ever since. Though this was a different matter, his stomach was murderous inside his body, like a rabid beast and no doubt if the elves made him a lemon cake he’d eat it all himself. He was about to round the corner when there was a soft tap at his shoulder. Bran shouted, jumping in the air as he turned about. His arms flailed in the air as if he was going to fend off an attack. WHO, WHAT, WHEN, WHERE, WHY? went through his mind as he saw the fair face of Hannah Gillenwater.
Great, he probably startled her as much as she did him. That was the bad thing about her muteness she had the ability to creep up on people without their knowing because she was so bloody quiet. Brandon relaxed a bit, pulling on a genuine smile, and putting his stupid arms down. He probably looked like a bloody idiot, but all was well as he nodded, knowing that she didn’t say anything, though this time he couldn’t help himself. He inhaled, “Hannah, Merlin you nearly killed me! He shook his head, grinning at her, “You should carry a stick with you or something, wear louder shoes. Always creeping up on people.” He chuckled, hoping he wouldn’t offend her with his japes. “If anything, you should become a spy, no doubt you’d be the best spy ever.” He nodded gesturing excitedly with his hands and then decided to shut up, “Sorry.” If anything, Brandon was quite talkative when he got going, which wasn’t what he needed to be right now.
Anyhow, whether he offended or made her smile it made no difference, Brandon didn’t even know if she would laugh because that was a sound, and she didn’t make those. He knew it was beyond his business to know anyway. “What’re you doing following me anyway? Were you in the library?” Too fast, too fast, too many questions that she had to answer, of course some were yes or no, but the first question, that was explanatory, not so simple to silently say. “I fell asleep in the library, I don’t normally do that, but I had the weirdest dream.” He shook his head and eyed her cautiously. Why was he still talking? It wasn’t that he…Well he just couldn’t stop talking, “I’m sorry, again, I suppose…I shouldn’t be talking, but here I am…Talking, haha. Sorry.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand.
What was wrong with him? She was just a silent girl who he had spoke to perhaps twice before, nothing inherently special about her, but she was special, too special and Bran was being an idiot continuing a conversation that he had no hopes of getting a second side on. He lowered his head, adjusting the straps of his bag, silence, the hall was too quiet, but then again, silence was best in the company of others.
She gasped as he shouted after jumping and turning around, arms flailing in the air. If he was startled by her, she was startled by him. Wide-eyed she looked at him, only wanting so much to apologize to him but instead, she settled for an apologetic look as she nibbled on her bottom lip. Hannah hadn’t meant to scare him like that and creep up on him. You should carry a stick with you or something, wear louder shoes. Always creeping up on people, he told her and Hannah’s feet shuffled nervously beneath her. (Did he think I was being creepy? she couldn’t help but wonder looking down on the floor) At his apology, Hannah looked up and a grin came to her face. (Or, maybe not, she thought to herself. Hopefully, not)
Hannah didn’t mind that Bran was talking to much - the words just spilling out of his mouth. It was different from when they last saw each other - when they had both fallen silent - but this, she liked too. Besides, she had gotten used to sitting still and listening to others. There was something comforting about hearing other people’s voices - one at a time, of course, because too many voices made her head spin round and round and she didn’t know where she could focus.
(She decided that she liked hearing his voice too.)
And then, suddenly, he began asking too many questions all at once and Hannah didn’t know where to begin to answer.
What’re you doing following me anyway? he asked.
She only wanted to say ‘hi’ and show him the necklace that hung around her neck where she kept the coin. But she didn’t know how to go about it so, for a while, she stuck with just following him. (Although, she was rather glad that she finally plucked up the courage to tap him on the shoulder to get his attention)
Were you in the library?
She nodded. She was, only briefly and then decided to exit the room as soon as she saw him leave.
Hannah shook her head, still grinning - almost to tell that she didn’t mind that he talked too much or was asking too many questions. So, instead, she pulled a finger - wait - before fishing out the necklace from underneath her robes to show him the coin as she pointed at it.