Emily sat straight backed in her chair inside the Western Philosophy class, a normal and comfortable posture for her, while other students around her slouched in their chairs, scribbled in their notebooks and generally defiled the meaning of being a student. She noticed such things out of the corner of her eye, but she focused her efforts on taking organized and detailed notes, color-coded and alphabetized. Her bag sitting on the floor next to her weighed nearly sixty pounds, filled with leather-bound notebooks for each of her individual classes. 

Even though Emily attempted to be the picture of perfection, she couldn't help but to glance over her shoulder every so often at Alana, who she knew through her mentor, Sir Edward. That girl was very much Emily's senior, but for some reason Emily got odd vibes from her, though Emily maintained the code of seniority out of respect. Right now, however, Alana kept staring off in the direction of something else... 

Emily's stormy gray eyes followed the course of Alana's gaze and they met with a boy. Emily hadn't thought of Alana as being lovestruck over some feminine looking boy with an odd earring, which made him look rather somewhat peculiar. Her senior's attitude was weird, and perhaps it was nothing more than a trivial fancy, but something about the boy stuck with her. Emily wasn't one to give her attentions to men, nor they to her, but she felt the hairs on her neck stand on end whenever she gazed at him for more than a moment.

He was either a trifle, or a puzzle, or both. Sir Edward would want to know about Alana's behavior today, that much was sure. Emily turned to refocus her full attention on her education, even if this class was droll.

It wasn't too much later that Emily shut her leather-bound notebook as that bore of a Professor, Hans Glemin, let the class go. Instinctively, Emily grabbed for her intricately carved mahogany handled umbrella, that was oh-so-much more useful than just to keep one's self from getting soaked in the rain that blanketed the area of Neworth at times. It was a family heirloom, functioned as an excellent cane, but most importantly of all it was her wand, the instrument with which she performed all of her magic, and her most treasured possession.

Sweeping out of the class was easy, even amidst the throng. Her family's status naturally parted the proverbial sea before her, and she made her way quickly to the library, where her mentor was sure to be lurking. Just outside the double doors, she made sure to smooth over her attire, which still looked miraculously meticulous even at this hour, and ran a hand over her hair to tuck one misplaced strand back into it's rightful place. She pushed quietly on the doors, and was greeted by Sir Edward lounging there, looking like he owned the place. As well he should! He had more power than any of these simpletons, and possessed more intellect than even the most esteemed professors who tried to preach their foolishness during each class. 

Gathering herself, she greeted her mentor. [b]“Hello, sir. How are you doing today?”[/b]