Open RP: The Ever-Helpful Librarian
((Since Michael does need to meet some people... Here he is!))
Since Hogwarts was the type of school that saw teaching as more or less optional, while some of its students were of the studying kind, the library was a frequently frequented place. Michael wished he had the time to assist each and every student personally, but his... other line of work sadly prevented him from doing so. But now, at least, it seemed like the cosmos could manage without his involvement, so he could do something restful and human. He could stack some books, and maybe help some people find what they were looking for.
His gaze went to the empty chair in the corner, where Matilda had used to sit. The little girl had become popcorn not long ago, and Michael noticed her absence more than expected. It was strange that such a small child, who hadn't really done much other than reading for hour on end, could leave such a hole. He knew, though, that whatever she had gone back to, she was going to be happy, and that was comfort enough. Michael was not the type of person to dwell on the negative; eternity was too long for that.
So he was padding around the library in his perpetually wrinked suit, searching for people to help or perhaps treat to a cup of tea. And a pastry. Michael did love his pastries.
Since Hogwarts was the type of school that saw teaching as more or less optional, while some of its students were of the studying kind, the library was a frequently frequented place. Michael wished he had the time to assist each and every student personally, but his... other line of work sadly prevented him from doing so. But now, at least, it seemed like the cosmos could manage without his involvement, so he could do something restful and human. He could stack some books, and maybe help some people find what they were looking for.
His gaze went to the empty chair in the corner, where Matilda had used to sit. The little girl had become popcorn not long ago, and Michael noticed her absence more than expected. It was strange that such a small child, who hadn't really done much other than reading for hour on end, could leave such a hole. He knew, though, that whatever she had gone back to, she was going to be happy, and that was comfort enough. Michael was not the type of person to dwell on the negative; eternity was too long for that.
So he was padding around the library in his perpetually wrinked suit, searching for people to help or perhaps treat to a cup of tea. And a pastry. Michael did love his pastries.