chandler p. midgen (thelibrarian) wrote in valesco,
@ 2008-12-10 21:03:00

Entry tags:

Wendy!
Chandler stayed hopeless out into the library, the middle, empty space where the visitors walked to and away from the various aisles of books. It was his favorite part of the library, the center circle where he could watch who came in and who left, who stayed the longest, what books they might be taken out---Chandler was terrible at dealing with people, but he certainly enjoyed watching them and trying to figure out their story.

Like the woman looking around, seemingly lost. She was very pretty, and looked to be on some sort of a mission. She wasn't here to read for pleasure, Chandler was almost sure. No, no, she was searching for something, and it would probably be something for another person, because you don't come to a library, looking around in such a confused manner, when you had time to figure something out for yourself. Yes, she would probably soon come to the information desk to ask him a question of where to find this book and---holy God almighty it was Wendy Tremaine.

He promptly dropped from his standing position, crouched and attempting to hide under the circular desk. His assistant, Lisa, stared down at Chandler in complete confusion, but her attention was taken by--oh, oh that was her voice.

"Can I help you?" Lisa said sweetly, and Chandler bit back a whine pressing further back into the knobs of the cabinet under the desk.

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darlingwendy
2008-12-11 03:34 am UTC (link)

The press were incredibly obnoxious people. It wasn't often that Wendy was harassed by them, but when she was, it was usually that they were hard-pressed for a story, and were even more obnoxious.

Skipping quietly into the nearest building as a means of avoiding the group of persistent reporters she'd passed a little while ago, she looked around the room with an attempt to get her bearings straight and realized she was in a library--one that looked vaguely familiar, but she'd never actually had a reason to be in it before.

But Wendy liked to think of herself as an intellectual from time to time and one should always be well-informed on their choice of career, shouldn't they? Besides, Tomas had told her someone won the league when she was sure that they hadn't, and they'd gotten into a heated argument about who was right. She didn't remember half the details, but a book would help, right?

"Hello," she chirped to the nice looking woman at the desk, but could have sworn she'd heard some sort of muffled squeak or whine of some kind. Shaking her head slightly, she smiled at the woman again.

"I'm looking for your Quidditch section--and, er--any periodicals concerning them that you might have detailing League wins over the past fifty years, if that would be at all possible," she told the woman at the counter.

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thelibrarian
2008-12-11 05:13 am UTC (link)

The quidditch section. Of course it was the quidditch section, Wendy was a quidditch star, and---why on earth wasn't Lisa freaking out that she was talking to a professional quidditch player? Oh, that was because she was a gigantic nerd like he was; Chandler only knew one player and one team, and that was because he'd been quite infatuated with said player on that single team since he was in Hogwarts. Which had been nearly six years ago.

Oh, he was so pathetic.

Chandler looked up at Lisa, praying to high heavens that she didn't need his help. Of course, the moment he looked up at her, Lisa looked down with a confused smirk.

"I dunno where those are," she said, not seemingly able to comprehend the fact that he was hiding. "You do, right? You know where everything is."

He felt his eye twitch just that much, and after another second Chandler pushed himself up and dusted off his robes. Though, his eyes remained permanently down, and he muttered something like, "Cantfindthatblastedquill."

Lisa sighed and looked around on the ground, "Could you help this lady while I look?" Oh my word, he needed a less naive assistant!

"Y-yes. Right this way," Chandler said, darting out the swing door of the circular desk and not waiting for Wendy to acknowledge him. He made a beeline toward the quidditch area, and prayed that she could keep up, because going back to find her would be even worse than this.

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darlingwendy
2008-12-11 05:28 am UTC (link)

She was right, there was something down there. But rather than the mice she thought it might have been, Wendy was a lot happier to see it unfold into a rather tall, good-looking--well, she couldn't tell if he was good-looking or not, because he was moving quite fast, but she thought he might be!--man.

There was really no way to expect the way he'd take off like a shot, in Wendy's opinion. Really, who walked so incredibly fast in a place where one was quite likely to become lost?, she mused as she quickened her steps to catch up with him. She very nearly lost him in the beginning herself, while turning around, but did manage to catch sight of the heel of his shoe disappearing into the stacks.

"Excuse me," she said, laughing. Partly because it was amusing, partly because when something felt like it had the potential to be awkward, she laughed. Sometimes as a means to ward it off, but sometimes it was merely nervous laughter. But it didn't feel like nervous laughter here--mostly! "Sir, where is the fire!"

Wendy thought she could only just tug on the sleeve of his elbow if he slowed his pace down for one moment--no, honestly, how long would his legs have to be in order to move that fast?

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thelibrarian
2008-12-12 03:57 am UTC (link)

"Fire!" Chandler nearly yelped, but with all his years in the library, it was second nature to turn everything into a whisper. "Fire?" he whispered, again, and looked down at Wendy in great confusion.

Except now he was looking at Wendy and he felt like throwing up. Oh, oh God---he really hoped he didn't throw up. That would be entirely counterproductive in his scheme to not annoy her in any sort of fashion for the past six years---avoiding her completely had helped this goal, greatly. Chandler gulped, feeling sweat already begin to build up on his forehead, and he winced in the great pain this terrifying situation was bringing him. So---he just turned, realizing that the fire comment was a joke and he was part of a joke and--oh, this was horrendously horrible.

"The quidditch periodicals are here," he said, taking in quick, shaky breaths. This was much harder than he ever would have imagined; not finding the periodicals, thatwasveryeasy, but this whole speaking to Wendy for the first time in years thing. In his fantasies (of which he had many), Chandler imagined he'd be riding something like a white steed, and she would have daisies in her hair and swoon at the sight of him and---

---he really needed to stay out of the fantasy section.

"But--but for what you need, I think," Chandler pushed up on his tiptoes, trying to get a good idea of where he'd have to cast his spell. He spotted the book and flipped out his wand, summoning it easily, "Is the special edition: Quidditch Throughout the Ages: The Champions." The book was huge and heavy, so he held it before attempting to drop it into her tiny arms and maybe crushing her.

"There's a detailed report about every championship match in recorded quidditch history and------yes."

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...wow, Ron is the WORST tagger in the WORLD. EVER.

darlingwendy
2008-12-12 09:22 am UTC (link)

Her eyes widened when she took into account the very large book, wishing she could remember Tomas's argument a little more clearly.

"Well," Wendy said brightly, looking up at the librarian--she assumed he was the librarian, since he very helpfully knew where everything was, and he did emerge from the information desk-- with a smile. She took the large tome with a slightly misgiving look and turned her attention back to the man in front of her.

And when she turned to look at this somewhat nervous looking man in front of her, there was some chord that struck in her memory. She didn't know why, but Wendy thought it might have been that he looked familiar. Except, that if he looked familiar, it was most likely because he was familiar, and if he was familiar, she knew him. And if she knew him, she didn't know his name, and if she didn't know his name--was he familiar?

Oh, her head hurt just trying to process that convoluted train of thought.

But since Wendy wasn't the type to really beat around the bush or stare at him for five minutes before waiting for something to click (well, that is a lie, she would do the latter), she thought it would be simpler to tell him of her suspicions. "I'm sorry, you look incredibly familiar. Do I know you from--" She mentally slapped herself. Well, it would help if he knew who she was.

"Well, it would be helpful if you knew my name! I'm Wend--" Except at this point, she'd stuck out her hand for a handshake, and she needed two hands to hold the book and remain upright. Taking into account basic physics, however, when someone very small holds something very large, and there is a shift in balance (as in… there isn't any), well…

The floor was suddenly seeming to tilt at the most peculiar angle!

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thelibrarian
2008-12-13 05:21 am UTC (link)

He caught the book.

He caught the book instead of the girl, and something did not seem all that right with this picture.

Chandler had simply grabbed out for the quidditch tome, because--that was what he did. He made sure his books were okay. How he hadn't been sorted into Ravenclaw, he'd never been able to figure out, because these books were his life, and the shock that just bolted through him at the sight of it teetering to the ground mad his stomach convulse so--he caught it.

But not the girl.

He stared down at the tiny woman on the floor, eyes wide with confusion and worry; what was she doing down there? OH! OH, oh--he hadn't caught the right thing. Chandler made a choking sound and put the book onto a nearby table (carefully!) and bent down to help Wendy up. Or--just to check to see if she was conscious, because that was a fall. That was a fall! He let her fall!

Oh, what a horrendously bad first meeting this was turning out to be.

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darlingwendy
2008-12-13 05:52 am UTC (link)

Falling wasn't a thing that Wendy was really adverse to.

Being a Quidditch player, getting unseated was something that happened quite a bit. The fall was actually kind of pleasant, because you knew sooner or later you were going to hit the ground and seeing the world go by in a vertical blur wasn't a perspective you got to see from all the time

But smacking your head as a result of falling got old very quickly and never ceased to raise a black and blue protrusion on some unfortunately visible part of her face.

It took her a few seconds to realize that she'd gone from standing upright to laying flat on her back, wondering why she had a perfectly lovely view of the ceiling above her before a man's faced loomed into view.

"Oh," she said, smiling up at him a bit deliriously. She really wasn't sure how hard she smacked her head. "You're rather pretty." And he really was! Even if his catching reflexes were slightly off. He probably wouldn't make the best Quidditch player, now that she was thinking of it.

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thelibrarian
2008-12-14 03:21 am UTC (link)

Oh. He was rather pretty?

Chandler blinked at Wendy for a bit, trying to compute those words, but he really couldn't. Wait---no, no he couldn't understand how someone could think he was pretty. Well, wasn't 'pretty' a term used for females? Was she saying he was feminine? That would be absolutely counter productive, and Chandler hoped his mind was just leading to the wrong conclusions. Pretty. Wendy Tremaine thought he was pretty. Pretty as in...cute? Cute could be good. Cute could be very good, actually, and...

Wendy thought he was cute?

Oh.

Chandler blushed furiously and barely kept himself from letting out a noise of discomfort (but not the bad discomfort, this time--which was rare) as he put his hands out to help Wendy to her feet. He actually managed to hold back any sort of ridiculous reaction at being this close to her, and patted down her arms when she was finally upright. These floors were dusty.

"Are you okay? I--I know a few--head...healing spells." Chandler gave her a shaky grin. "Books are always falling on me. And--I'm always falling, too. I mean--not that I think you fall a lot because---you don't look like you're clumsy like--me."

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darlingwendy
2008-12-14 05:59 am UTC (link)

She stood as still as possible whilst he brushed her arms off, not abashed in the least for what she'd just said regarding the attractiveness of the man's face. At least she was being honest. And goodness knew what other horrifically inane or unnecessary or what-else-have-you things she'd said to other people without having the excuse of a hit head to use. She had a fond tendency of sticking her foot in her mouth. But as she stood patiently, she studied his face very closely,

It wasn't like Wendy was really good with faces and names, but she remembered enough that if she saw someone who looked at all familiar, it bothered her until she could figure out who it was.

And upon closer studying, she did know this man, she just... knew nothing else besides that one fact! And that he worked in a library. And that he was sometimes clumsy. And--oh, he was speaking.

"I am clumsy!" Wendy interjected cheerfully. "It's probably not good thing, since I'm a Quidditch player, but I am completely uncoordinated if there's no broom in the vicinity. What's your name! Do I know you?"

Except as soon as she said it, she realized there was no absolutely no segue and all he really got was "Wend--" before she probably almost dropped that ridiculously huge book on his toe. "I'm, er, Wendy, by the way! Wendy Tremaine. In case that--you know, jogs your memory, because I don't know how many Wendys you know, and how often you run into them, or how often they drop books on your toes--did I drop that on your foot, by the way because if I did, I'm--" she stopped herself with a slightly self-deprecating smile and looked up at him again after taking a deep breath, "-- sorry."

Well, she knew she was talkative; she just didn't realize smacking her head made it that much worse. At least, Wendy thought that was why neither her mouth nor her head could shut up.

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thelibrarian
2008-12-14 06:40 pm UTC (link)

"I--I'm?" he sputtered, trying to catch a spot within her rambling. Not rambling, but--okay, it was rambling "I'm...Chandler. Midgen. Chandler--Midgen. My foot is fine."

Now, did he tell her they went to school together? That could prove awkward, he wouldn't want her to think he was trying to make her feel bad for not remembering him from school. She was a rather busy, famous quidditch player, after all. She probably met hundreds of new people every day, that would not leave enough room in her head to remember a quiet and shy bloke like him. Because--they weren't even in the same House, they didn't have the same group of friends, they just---he just kind of noticed her all the time.

"I--I think I remember you from school--Hogwarts," he mumbled quickly, cheeks reddening again at his pseudo-lie. It wasn't as if he didn't think he knew her from school. He could just blame his completely stunned state on the fact that she was a famous quidditch player, which played nicely into his near hyperventilation earlier.

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darlingwendy
2008-12-14 07:33 pm UTC (link)

"Dodderidge!" she blurted out-- but she moved on hurriedly before he could give her a tremendously bizarre look and ask how hard she really did hit her head, "Maddox Dodderidge--you were--his friend!"

That's right! It was all coming back to her now-- Chandler Midgen. Ra--no, Hufflepuff! Quiet. Studious, she'd never really talked to him for long, if--well, if at all? Was that right? But no, Maddox was a Head with her, and she was sure someone like Chandler had to have been a Prefe--yes! Yes, he was, she was sure of it--she did know him, after all! Well, well-done, Wendy's brain. Thank you for not putting her in too much of an embarrassing situation this time around.

"Chandler Midgen! I do remember you now; I thought your face looked familiar."

Wendy tilted her head to get a better look at him, now successfully being able to mentally compare it with that of his school-aged appearance. Growing up had done very nice things to him, in her opinion. She sort of wished she had been that lucky.

Ooh, but... what did she do now, now that she'd affirmed that they went to school togeth--

"So you work in a library, now! That's very successful--I think I remember wondering why you'd never been a Ravenclaw, because you were so much smarter than everybody else in there!"

Wendy puffed out her cheeks and gave him a slightly doleful look. She didn't even know why she bothered thinking when her mouth clearly had a mind of its own.

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