Capto Fidelis

Capto Fidelis

Ch. 5: "Beetles and Buttons"

Oliver's eyes followed her out, then turned back to Sylvia. He couldn't help the grin that spread over his face, and he sat down across from her.

"Ready to tutor me?" he said.

***

"Are you ready to be tutored?" she said, after watching Hermione scamper away.

"Ready as I'll ever be."

She shuffled some papers, and looked at him over the rims of her glasses, reminding him of a very young (but hopefully less stern) Professor McGonagall. "So...What was the last thing you actually remember learning in Transfiguration?"

"Something about beetles and buttons?"

"B...Beetles into buttons?" she stammered.

He nodded fervently, trying to hold back a grin.

She looked disbelievingly at him, and Oliver finally grinned. "I'm just kidding, love!"

Her eyes widened for a moment, and she sighed softly.

Well that had failed. He stopped grinning. "Ok, Sylvia. I'll be serious as Percy. I promise," he said.

She looked at him over the rims of her glasses again. "It's your marks that are on the line, not mine."

"Well you're getting points with McGonagall."

"I assure you I could get top marks in Transfiguration even without tutoring McGonagall's house Quidditch Captain."

"Er..right."

"Alright," she said, all business, "we began human Transfiguration this year. Do you remember anything?"

"I remember McGonagall grilling me on Abu-something."

"Abutorus?" she prompted.

He nodded.

"Thank goodness you came to ask for help so early! We won't have that much to review for this year, and if there are any basics you need to learn, you'll learn them as we go along." She looked terribly excited - especially, in Oliver's opinion, that they were only talking about studying.

The best thing, Oliver decided, would be to nod. He did so.

He was rewarded with a smile, and Sylvia took out her notes. "Here," she said, handing one of the books to him.

He opened it and flipped through casually. It was color-coded, and he had a sneaking suspicion it was cross-indexed as well.

"Er, it's not that organized...sorry," she said, noticing his surprise.

"Sylvia, this is incredible! Percy's notes are--"

"Percy's?"

"He lets me borrow them. I think I'm in debt for the rest of my life though," he said, and laughed.

"And how exactly do you plan to repay him?"

"I found him a girlfriend, didn't I?" he said, looking a bit smug.

"Oh that was brill," she said, rolling her eyes. "Do you always play matchmaker?"

"Mostly for myself."

"So I've heard."

"So has everyone. I was informed last week that I'm pretty hot Hogwarts gossip. And as Lockhart was muttering yesterday, fame is a fickle friend, Sylvia. Fickle."

"You poor dear," she said sarcastically. Then her tone changed back to normal. "Oliver, as much as I'd love to discuss your love troubles, can you turn to the beginning? I think we should start with the differences between human and animal Transfiguration."

"Aw, you know I'm joking," he said grinning.

She just looked at him, and raised an eyebrow.

"Right. Should I...take notes?" he said.

"I understand the concept may be quite foreign to you..."

"I have taken notes before, I'll have you know." he said.

"Oliver," she said, "notes on intricacies of the Starfish with Stick are not what I'm talking about."

His jaw dropped. "How...?"

"It was last Spring, I reached the "Q" section in the library, there were books..." she said, shrugging. "However, that's not the point. Open your notebook."

He pulled out a new inkpot, quill, and one of his (painfully empty) notebooks.

Differences between Human and Animal Transfiguration, he wrote slowly.

He looked up to see Sylvia peering at his page, almost to assure herself that he wasn't doodling instead of taking notes.

We going to start? he wrote, and watched as she blushed slightly.

"Of course," she said, regaining her composure. She took her notes in hand and flipped to the beginning, and ran her finger down the page for a moment before stopping. "Animal Transfigurations. Most of what we've been learning for the past," she looked at him pointedly, "five years. Usually transforms to something similar in either name or form. An example would be?"

"You tell me, it's probably color-coded in there."

"Sod off. Guinea fowl to..."

He thought for a moment. "Guinea pig?" he wagered.

"Right." She flipped another page, "Obviously, inanimate objects to animals is..." her voice trailed off.

"Difficult?"

"You're being difficult. Guess again."

"Not according to some." he said with a smirk.

She continued, unabashed, except for a slight blush. "Especially when compared to animal-to-animal. Remember your beetles to buttons?"

"Do I!" he said, and grinned.

It was almost like she filtered out all his extraneous comments...maybe he'd have to try harder.

"Well, beetles to buttons would be simpler, than, say, beetles to birds. Common sense."

"Common sense is overrated," he said with a straight face.

She raised an eyebrow, and he mimicked her. He thought he saw a smile tug at her lips, but it was gone in an instant.

"Oliver," she said, "Let's just cover this last part, and I promise you can get back to Gryffindor Tower and your precious Quidditch diagrams."

"Ah, but Sylvia!" he said, batting his eyelashes furiously. "What would I do without you? Your face gives me reason to live, your lips--"

"Shh!" she whispered fervently, "You'll get us in trouble!"

"I am trouble," he said, and began to pantomime.

She smacked him with her notebook. "Perhaps we should call it a night early then?"

"I concur, dear lady."

"Oh, Oliver," she said, shaking her head. "Anyway, I want you to research and write out all the differences between human and animal Transfiguration."

"Homework?!" he exclaimed, then dropped his forehead to the table.

"Yes, homework. And I don't want a regurgitation of what I told you tonight!"

He looked up at her. "Yes, ma'am."

"Good. Now I've got to get back to Ravenclaw--there's a terrible Arithmancy essay I need to finish."

"May I walk you back?"

"Tsk, tsk, can't have you knowing where--" she stopped. "Oh. Nevermind. You already know where it is, don't you?"

He grinned. "So?"

She shook her head. "Unfortunately, as a Prefect, I'm going to have to say no. I'm sorry Oliver, but you should get back to Gryffindor now."

"Right. I've got a date with my pillow," he said. "Thanks for the help, I'll look forward to the next time. Goodnight, love."

He heard her murmur "Goodnight, Oliver," as he strode, now-partially-filled notebooks under his arm, towards Gryffindor Tower.