#7 | An Open Secret

Anjay immediately noticed Hathmore inside and felt awkward at having interrupted what seemed to be at least somewhat of a serious conversation... except he hadn't opened the door himself, someone from the inside had let him in. Strange indeed.

He considered asking what that was all about as Hathmore scurried by with a non-discernible look on his face, but Anjay held back. If his interaction with McGonagall from just a few moments earlier had taught him anything, it was that he wasn't going to be pushing the limits of familiarity with any more Professors anytime soon.

Anjay took the open door as an invitation to enter, which he did. His direct interactions with Rickard had thus far been limited, so Anjay wasn't sure what he thought of the man or (more importantly) what the man thought of him. Anjay made it a point to be his most polite and charming.

"Good morning, Headmaster," Anjay said pleasantly but without being strident or overly bubbly. He waited for Rickard's response before he launched into his request to peruse and organize the Headmaster's library. He would dispense with all the pleasantries and formalities first, as he had been raised to do.

Rickard was always so hard to read, Anjay never knew exactly what the man thought of him. Most people liked him, some people hated him, but for the majority of people he at least knew where he stood with them. Rickard was somewhat of an enigma, but he'd never been outright rude or hostile, so that was a good sign.

"Thank you, Headmaster," Anjay said with what he hoped was a humble grin. He almost made a comment about his father being there having something to do with his own invitation, but he resisted. It was unsophisticated to talk down about oneself. "Three other students have been invited as well, as I'm sure you know," is what he chose to say instead.

His gaze dropped down to the floor at the mention of McGonagall and his prefect duties. The embarrassment from their earlier interaction was still fresh. Anjay hoped his cheeks hadn't gotten red. "No sir, I've already spoken with her about all the prefect duties. I'm here about your library. I hear you have a lot of books that need organizing and I would be thrilled to peruse the titles of some of your collection."

He wouldn't mention anything about borrowing just yet. No need to throw everything out there at once.

It made sense that Rickard would have helped nominate the students chosen to go see the Minister, and Anjay was kind of upset with himself that he hadn't considered that option before. Sometimes the most obvious answer was hardest to see. But why had Rickard chosen those three? Anjay considered asking before his mind rushed back to a few moments ago and his encounter with McGonagall. He held his tongue.

"Thank you, Headmaster," Anjay said with a nod as he made his way to the large crates of books. For a few moments he just pulled them out and poured over their titles, his mind reeling at the various subjects and topics contained. The breadth of study was just fascinating. Anjay particularly took interest in books about the history of the Ministry and magical society in Britain in general.

He had no idea how long he worked. It could have been an hour or it could have been 15 minutes; the time seemed to slip away as Anjay lost himself in his task. Never once did it feel like work or a chore. He was genuinely having a lovely time organizing these tomes, some ancient, some more modern, but all of them fascinating.

He turned his head to stretch his neck and almost jumped out of his skin- for all the attention he'd been paying to organizing the library, he hadn't realized that the Sorting Hat. Although it sat still and motionless, Anjay got the distinct impression that it had noticed him. His mind took him back to his own sorting and the strange things the Hat had said to him. He'd always wanted to ask further. Was now his chance?

"Erm.... sorry?" It was the only thing Anjay could think to say. The way the Hat stared at him made him feel like he had somehow intruded upon something and he immediately felt the need to apologize. Would the Hat talk back? Anjay wondered if it only spoke when it placed students in their Houses or if it could converse freely.

The hat again looked inanimate, but Anjay just knew that there was a consciousness, some sort of life inside of it. He wondered if a Muggle were to somehow encounter the Hat if they would have the same gut feeling like Anjay had now.

A wave of nervousness rushed over him, and Anjay did his best to combat it, but he still felt himself shuffle a little bit which was a dead giveaway of nerves or being uncomfortable. He had been raised to always be sturdy on his feet to display an air of confidence and certainty. He was failing in that now.

"Erm... lovely song at this year's ceremony, I was a big fan," Anjay said to try to prompt the object to talk. Flattery always worked on humans... why not on magical talking hats, too?

What kind of response was that? It wasn't a response at all, at least not to anything that he'd said. Was the Hat actually capable of extemporaneous conversation? Certainly whatever magic animated it didn't limit it to only a few choice words or phrases.

Anjay interpreted the glare the Hat was giving him as threatening. A challenge. It made him uncomfortable. He didn't expect anyone to bow to him or treat him with any undeserved reverence, but was it too much to expect a magical talking Hat to at least be polite?

"What's your problem? You're being quite rude." The words has escaped his lips before he could stop them, but after his initial shock at having uttered them he found he didn't care. The Hat was being rude, and Anjay wanted to know why.

"I-"

It wasn't often that Anjay was genuinely at a loss for words. He'd been trained to talk, to make conversation, to look out for all the social cues and lead your partner back in forth in a dance of dialogue. The Hat seemed to want no part in it.

Anjay was getting flustered. What was he supposed to do? "I'm sorry!" he said, really meaning it, hoping the sincerity he felt inside conveyed in his tone of voice. "It's not every day that you get to have a chat with an enchanted Hat. I didn't know the protocol," he said with a shrug, hoping his honest and earnest approach would win the Hat's favor.

"For what it's worth, I really did like your song, by the way," he added at the end for good measure. "Do you write them all yourself?" Again, a sincere question, but based on the Hat's attitude problem this entire time he wondered if it would be received in the spirit it was intended.