Rebecca felt sorry for herself as she headed for the Ref Centre on a Saturday. She spent most of the week postponing the work, but now she felt she could not procrastinate anymore. It was one thing if she were doing the work only for herself – she had no qualms about getting a few ‘warnings’ on late submissions – but she had promised Trent she would do the research on the musical spells as Professor Philpott had instructed. She had been a sorry mess at the class, ripping open the bongo on her first try, so it had seemed feasible to her that Trent did the practical half of the lesson while she took care of the theory. Unfortunately, the perfectly balanced suggestion now seemed awfully out of proportion as she swore under her breath.

Randomly picking up a few spellbooks, she headed to the nearest table. There was only another person seated at the table, but the amount of books scattered on it seemed to suggest that a hundred enthusiastic music fans had had a conference! There was enough material on Justin Timberlake to put his most ardent stalker to shame. What on earth?

“Sorry for the mess.�

She looked up from a particular magazine full of stories of JT’s misadventure at being addressed. The other student was older, but she couldn’t recall which year; in fact, it was one of those faces she had barely seen once or twice. She shrugged, indicating that she did not mind. But, it just seemed too curious to see a wizard look up a Muggle musician (JT was Muggle, wasn’t he?). Or did the older boy… liked guys? That would be terrible waste of a face like that. It seemed like a face girls would find attractive. Not her, of course, she reminded herself vehemently, again at a loss at having thoughts like that. Perhaps she had been hanging out with love struck girls like Avery and Pandora too much. She opened the nearest spellbook and casually asked, “If you don’t mind me asking, what are you researching Justin Timberlake for?� She hoped her voice was not insinuating anything. “I am not judging or anything, but it seems odd for a boy, a wizard at that, to be surrounded by such magazines. But of course, there’s nothing wrong with… you know… Er, I’m Rebecca, by the way,� she finished lamely. She hated making an ass out of herself but this time she had made herself look like a complete four-footed mammal. She almost picked up her books and leave the table, but realized that would seem rude. Nervously running a hand through her raven hair, she waited for the boy to answer.