Hiding Humor.

He was ready. Tomkin Hugh Davison, or Hugh as he preffered, shuffled through his bag, placing enchanted valentines between the pages of the books. He only hoped his charm had worked, and each paper would compliment the reader without revealing him. A few would simply be jokes scrawled on the paper in his sloppy handwriting, as he couldn't muster to charm but a few dozen papers in time. After all, valentines was the next day, and he wanted his fellow students to feel loved.
As he placed the a particularly carefully made Valentine in the books by the healing section, he tripped, spewing the enchanted papers all across the library floor, along with several of his class books, fabric scraps, and design sketchbook.

Mira had ventured into the library the day before Valentine’s Day to get a bit of work done. After all, tomorrow was the big celebration, she wouldn’t have time for anything then. Stifling a yawn, she wandered through the Healing section to find a certain book the professor had mentioned in Herbology; for some reason, libraries always made Mira sleepy.

“Ow!” she gasped, tripping over a pile of books and falling on her knees. “What on earth…”

Looking up, she noticed Hugh standing before her. Mira then took in the mess around her; books, fabrics, papers.. She grabbed a bit of parchment and saw a sloppily scrawled joke on it.

“What is all this?”

Hugh quickly turned as red as his doublet. Rapidly, he picked up the papers and fabrics, attempting to explain as he went.
"Mira.. oh, I wasn't expecting- uh their nothing. It's nothing. Nothing at all! Just some- uh, letters from home, yeah, letters from home, you know how my siblings can be!"
He laughed a little, forgetting to take the joke out of Mira's hand.

Please let her not know that I'm an only child...

Mirielle went to retrieve another book from the dark arts section. The dark arts fascinated her more than the defensive spells to defend yourself against them. She thought that if she had to study that ridiculous subject then you should also be able to study the dark arts.
She was all settled into a comfy green and silver armchair (the colors a joke because there was three other chairs that was the other house colors)about to read her new book when she heard a rather loud yell. Don't those people know that this is a library and that means silence. Mirielle decided to investigate so she went to the healing section from which she heard the screech. Right down at the end of the row was Mira and Hugh, whom she liked to call Tommy even if it irked him. Mirielle calmly walked to the end of the row, her anger just beneath her calm surface.
"Mira." She gave a quick nod to her to greet her. "Tommy what on earth are you doing on the floor?" Not that she actually cared. Mirielle saw all the papers on the floor that he was scrambling to pick up. She snatched one off the floor and looked at it.Mirielle, my sweet heavenly Mirielle. Your hair shines as bright as the sun, your eyes sparkle like stars in the night's sky. You're as beautiful as veela. Will you please be my valentine? Signed anonymously. "Enchanted paper." Mirielle glared down at Hugh. "Hiding these in the books are we? Not anymore. Inflamarae." She set fire to the ones on the floor. The ones in his hand might be a little trickier to get rid of."Hand those over, little Tommy." She held out her hand.

Mira pushed herself up off of the hardwood floor of the library and smiled meekly at Hugh. She knew the Gryffindor meant no harm. Sometimes, I swear I think he should be Hufflepuff, she thought decidedly to herself. Before she could say anything, a new (unfortunately familiar) snide voice spoke.

“Hello, Mirielle,” she nodded curtly.

Just what she needed. Mira wasn’t one to hold grudges or hate, but Mirielle was not number one on her list of favorite people. After that ridiculous scene the Slytherin caused with her and Kolby in Transfiguration, Mira had steered clear of her. I wonder what sort of trouble she wants to stir up now... Lost in her own thoughts, Mira hardly realized what the distinct smell of smoke was coming from.

“Bloody hell,” she exclaimed, whipping out her wand. “Aguamenti!”

Mira thanked her lucky stars that Charms was her best subject; the water that spewed from her wand put out the growing fire right away. She pocketed the wand and turned on Mirielle.

“Are you completely mad?” she whisper-shouted angrily, feeling her cheeks go red. “I figured even you understood the dangers of reckless magic, you loon!”


((OOC: Loon is a fun word))

Mirielle ignored Hugh for a second to deal with the hufflepuff that now challenged her.
"I'm no loon. Those papers that were on fire would have died down before the library was on fire. Tommy shouldn't be messing around with people like that. Some may not notice that it is enchanted paper and might sit in their rooms until a prince comes and miss all of the...fun." Mirielle had a hard time grasping the concept of fun. She never liked what anybody else liked so she never understood why it was so fun. "Others would see the enchanted paper for what it is and find out who planted them and come after him. Others as in Slytherins and I'm not the cruelest Slytherin there is but I do say I come rather close." She boasted as if being cruel was a good thing. "They'd have his head. Be grateful, I'm doing him a favor and at least I didn't light the ones in his hands on fire." She turned back to Hugh and stuck out her hand once more. Hoping that would keep the hufflepuff quiet.

As the papers were set on and doused out, while the girls argued Hugh quickly gathered up what he could. Noticing burn marks on the wooden floor, he placed the sopping ashes in a nearby rubbish bin. Then turned to grab the fabrics, when he noticed it.

Most of the fabric squares.
Burnt.
His prized sketchbook, a pile of burned parchment.

Snatching the vitcims off the floor he shoved them in Mirielle's face as she finished speaking.
"What have you done! What do you call this!? These samples were silk SILK! What have you done! All of these were Original designs!! I had intended to begin the garment tomorrow!! YOU UNFEELING. UNKIND, UN RESPECTFUL SNAKE. HOW DARE YOU BURN SILK.
And as for the notes They were intended for you!" He hissed, trying to be quiet in the library.

Mirielle just smiled. She didn't care that his precious little designs were burnt. In fact, she loved that she had ruined them. She loved it even more that he had called her a snake. It might as well of been a compliment. It was, after all, the symbol for her house.
"Oh I'm so sorry."She said in a tone that wasn't sorry at all."But I can always get you more silk and you still have the...pretty designs in your head. Eh, they might be a tad different but they'd be the same. As for the valentines, I'm touched that you'd say such a thing but I think we all know that they weren't all meant for me." She was about to turn to leave but decided not to. She wanted to see what other awful things they would say to her. She got a kick off of it. "But if the silk was so important to you then you wouldn't have picked them off the floor last. Your fault not mine. Also your fault that if one of you had not screeched and interrupted my reading then I wouldn't have done it at all. But some only think of themselves. It truly is a pity."

Mira only half-listened to the argument happening in front of her. Busy picking up charred bits of paper, she studied the blackened wood. She was perfectly content to think Mirielle Ward was not all there in the head (or at least dangerously reckless with a vague mind) from here on out. Noticing the corner of a plank that still had a little flame flickering, Mira bent down and blew it out.

“All these valentines were intended for Mirielle?” she asked, unbelievingly.

Her ears perked up when she heard them going on about silk. Silk? She must have really misjudged Hugh; he certainly didn’t seem like a noble, but clearly he had wealth. But wait, what was Mirielle saying now? About “someone” screeching?

“Oh, I’m so terribly sorry I interrupted your precious reading,” she said shrewdly, quite fed up. “I swear it, dear Lady Mirielle, next time I trip and fall I won’t make a sound, I wouldn’t want to do anything to displease you!”

Hugh cursed his own stutter, having made him say something he didn't mean. Not, Not NOT, NOT. He repeated over to himself in his head as he shoved what he could salvage into his bags, fuming and grumbling at how horrible this turned out to be. At the very least, he hadn't burned anything too terribly important. Of course, this all meant he would have to spend the rest of the afternoon either shopping for more fabric, or sewing.