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Post by Silver Blackwood on Feb 8, 2010 20:48:45 GMT -5
"Emerson said, to be great is to be misunderstood," Silver agreed. "And even Einstein said that the only source of knowledge is experience. For most people, knowing is enough." He didn't get it, but it was the truth. Truth. He'd discussed truth recently and come to the conclusion that though truth was mutable, it was worth seeking. He hadn't given much thought, however, to how few people were interested in pure truths. It was saddening to think of.
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Post by Willow Wenlock on Feb 8, 2010 21:09:12 GMT -5
Willow couldn't agree more, most students were in it to get an easy O or because it would further their career. She couldn't help but smile at the kindred spirit that she'd met virtually upon re arrival here, in France there hadn't been many people who wanted to learn to learn, and who carried knowledge like a second skin. Willow took a deep breath her eyes dancing with an intrinsic happiness at having chanced upon someone in her house that embodied the Ravenclaw spirit. "I don't think there will ever be enough opportunities to experience in life. I think if I could go without sleep for the rest of my life I would be happy. As it is I spend a few nights a month with a book as my pillow."
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Post by Silver Blackwood on Feb 8, 2010 23:14:01 GMT -5
"Doesn't everyone?" Silver mused. He caught himself and felt heat steal up the back of his neck even as he dropped his gaze. "I mean, sometimes. Studying and everything. Except the people who don't..." His brows drew together slightly as he tried to sort his thoughts into useable words, but without his quill, it was difficult. Sometimes he couldn't sleep for all the things he needed to write. It was a nightmare trying to remember it all long enough to get his journal open.
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Post by Willow Wenlock on Feb 8, 2010 23:31:46 GMT -5
It was endearing she thought to hear misstep in his voice when he'd said except for the people who don't. "Once at Beauxbaton I fell asleep on one of the older manuscripts the teachers had given me a special writ for." She shook her head, "the librarian looked cross at me for weeks." Willow felt a small breeze that was colder than previous breezes slip over her, and she shivered just a bit.
"It was so much warmer in France that I almost forgot you still need a jacket around this time of year here." She wanted to get a jacket, or get somewhere warmer but not lose the company, since she was finding it engaging to talk to him. With an almost gamine grin she shrugged towards the direction of the castle. "Walk with me inside? I don't want to stop talking to you, but I'm freezing."
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Post by Silver Blackwood on Feb 9, 2010 0:20:57 GMT -5
Silver was pulled out of his thoughts at the question, and his gaze jumped back up to Willow in the moment before his mind registered the question. Walk with me inside? The back of his neck hadn't cooled for some time now, but he nodded all the same. "Yeah, I'll... I'll walk with you." Masochist, he told himself. She was way too pretty to be interested in him, but he wasn't ready to walk away yet. Despite the fact that he'd wanted to run off with his journal since the moment he'd laid eyes on her.
He couldn't help the soft smile that curved his lips as he finally uprooted his feet. His nerves stretched as he approached, but somehow he didn't get sick, and even better, he didn't trip or even stumble. Up close she was even prettier. She had green eyes, and her hair was silver, not pale blonde like he'd almost convinced himself. Silver. The irony didn't miss him. "So, like... whenever," he said softly. Her eyes were so green.
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Post by Willow Wenlock on Feb 9, 2010 0:34:27 GMT -5
Willow tilted her head as Silver approached her, he hadn't seemed so tall as he stood in the tree line, but then he'd stood against the massive towering architecture of the world, dwarfed by what had to have been hundreds of years in the making. The juxtaposition was intriguing, and made his actual size all the more interesting. She smiled when he talked, so quiet that it pointed out the things about him that weren't quiet, like his eyes. His entrancing eyes that she wasn't quite sure which shade or shades of green that they were.
She tucked a few more strands of hair behind her ears as she bent over to grab at the satchel she'd brought, but had yet to fill with books from the library. As she started to walk she figured she might get to know him a bit better while they did. "So, Blackwood, that's an old English name right?" It fit in, but sometimes people moved out of the country of origin, displacing cultural ancestors. "But you're not from England are you? I don't recognize you from before I left for Beauxbaton."
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Post by Silver Blackwood on Feb 9, 2010 1:09:22 GMT -5
"No," Silver said, for the moment too caught up in things to point out his American accent the way he usually did. "Dad's from England, but he married Mom in California." The words were automatic as he watched Willow unabashedly, from the motion of her fingers against her hair to the way she moved to get her bag... His gaze snapped up over the lake and he suddenly wondered what it was he'd just said, and for that matter, what she'd said before he'd let himself get distracted. He cleared his throat lightly as he tried to backtrack. "American," he managed. He wished his mind would shut off for just a minute or two so he could get himself together.
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Post by Willow Wenlock on Feb 9, 2010 1:16:44 GMT -5
American, Willow thought, well that placed the accent, although she hadn't enough Americans in her life to place the accent. She almost thought on remarking about the weather, but couldn't bring herself to, because it seemed like a conversation killer. "My family as far back as their genealogy books go says England." She quirked her lips, "I'd like to boast something as interesting as being an American on my resume. All of those cultures living so close together, like a melting pot, so much more to experience than tea and biscuits I would imagine." She hated biscuits, but the tea, well that she loved, but she did chuckle at the small jab to the British everywhere.
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Post by Silver Blackwood on Feb 9, 2010 1:57:21 GMT -5
"S-so you're Pureblood?" Silver asked, stammering again as he forced his mind to pay attention to the conversation. He could inspect things later, when he was alone with his journal and quill. He knew the likelihood that he'd fill a page or two before he could focus on any one thing. He didn't know what to say about the melting pot, though he knew exactly what she meant, nor about tea and biscuits. He'd had more experience with toast and pumpkin juice since he'd gotten to Hogwarts.
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Post by Willow Wenlock on Feb 9, 2010 9:34:17 GMT -5
As they were walking, Willow was drinking in everything around her, paying the closest detail to every little thing that she hadn't remembered. She knew that her eyes were probably dancing with excitement, but she couldn't help it. Hogwarts held some ethereal beauty that caused everything to seem more, just more. "Sure, my family is pure blood." She realized that she hadn't told him her full name, "my last name is Wenlock," she wouldn't tell him more than that if he didn't ask. Her ancestor was everyone in her family's biggest competitor, and she didn't want to live under anyone's name besides her own.
"As far back as the 11th century if the books are right. But my family more or less skirts the edges of middle class." She made a small face, "I never understood the whole blood purity thing, it doesn't make sense when some of the strongest witches and wizards are muggle born or half-bloods. Pure blood lines stop being pure after generations inbreeding, and the muggles and half-bloods probably have purer blood." She blinked realizing what she'd said and wincing just a tiny bit, "you aren't a pure blood stickler are you?"
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Post by Silver Blackwood on Feb 9, 2010 11:47:48 GMT -5
Silver's eyes widened slightly, and he shook his head at the sudden direct question. "No, my mom was a Muggle," he said, though he could think of multiple Muggle-born wizards through history who'd fully supported Pureblood domination. "Dad's Pureblood, but it didn't come up a lot. All of us being wizards was enough." Not to mention that blood purity had never been much of an issue where he'd grown up. That melting pot she'd mentioned was as true of mixed blood as it was of mixed cultures.
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Post by Willow Wenlock on Feb 9, 2010 13:29:53 GMT -5
It must have been nice, Willow thought, to have grown up in a culture like that; the best of both world. The history of a pureblood family, and the freedoms and innovations of muggles. She wondered if Silver was in Muggle Studies or not. Better to assume he was, because if she was in his position, she would probably be taking the class for a secondary viewpoint, as well as to increase her Newts scores. "So you have the upper hand in Muggle studies right?" She turned to look up at him then, laughter sparkling in her eyes at the small tease.
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Post by Silver Blackwood on Feb 9, 2010 16:07:58 GMT -5
Silver's lips curved slightly as he tugged the strap of his book bag higher onto his shoulder. "Yeah," he admitted. "We had mostly wizarding stuff at home, but Mom needed Muggle stuff to work with. She'd tell us stuff sometimes." He didn't know as much as Muggle-born people, but he knew what a pen was, and how to use one. Mom had never gotten the hang of quills.
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Post by Willow Wenlock on Feb 9, 2010 16:24:55 GMT -5
Contagious, Willow thought when she saw Silver's smile, or small smile. Her mind caught on something she'd taken note of, but set aside the first time she'd heard it. "Us? Do you have siblings?" She didn't have anyone besides herself. Her mom had been awesome growing up, almost as good as a sister she'd been told. But still, she'd always wished that her parent's had had a second child, someone for her to grow up with. Instead she'd had books, neighbors, and occasionally a family pet, of the ordinary not extraordinary variety.
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Post by Silver Blackwood on Feb 9, 2010 17:07:43 GMT -5
Silver gave a brief nod at Willow's question, and his eyes shifted out to the grounds in front of them. "I have a brother, his name is Dare. He's graduating this year, and he's... pretty much infamous right now." The direct attention had faded, and he heard less and less gossip in the corridors, but the reputation the Daily Prophet had given him stuck as firmly as ever.
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