Dorian made his way through the library, feeling a little guilty. It wasn’t, he reasoned, like he was telling tales though. If you were concerned about someone, it was the right thing to do to go and tell a staff member, especially if you were head boy. And especially if the concern related to ripping holes in the universe.
He had specifically timed his visit when he knew Gary wouldn’t be in the library - an advantage of having access to the prefects’ patrolling schedule - and he thought the sight of him knocking on the librarian’s door wasn’t too rare an occurrence. He was a library regular, as well as a monitor, and he supposed the librarian might also be a reasonable person for him to go to for relationship advice. He briefly pondered, as he waited to be let in, whether he did want to ask him for relationship advice. Professor Brooding-Hawthorne was very helpful but there were certain things that she did not have experience with. Of course, the thought of sitting down and having any kind of conversation about any of those things with anyone was mortifying. Maybe he could just find a helpful leaflet and then also never act on any of its contents. Except he sort of wanted to. He wanted to do stuff, but without it coming with a whole side helping of feeling totally embarrassed and awkward, and he just wasn’t sure whether that was achievable. He oscillated between deciding he’d take neither, and wanting it badly enough that he’d take it however it came.
“Ah, can I come in please?” he asked, when the librarian opened his office door. Once he was safely inside, he continued. “I’m a little concerned by a research project another student mentioned. He said you already knew about it so I thought it might be best to check in with you. I’d rather he didn’t know I’d reported him, if possible.” The librarian was, therefore best placed both to reassure Dorian that nothing terrible could happen from a magical perspective, but also a social one - he, after all, could talk to the person in question without having to make it clear that Dorian had brought the problem to him. “Gary was talking about time travel like he thought it might be achievable. At least, in theory. But I don’t know how seriously he intends to look into it, and it sounded dangerous.”
Tarquin was checking over the waiting lists for certain texts, noting which were getting unacceptably long and debating whether to ask for extra copies of those books for next year, or merely move the existing ones to the short loans/no extensions collection. It was not the most thrilling of tasks, and he was quite happy when he received a knock on his door – doubly so when the person attached to the knock turned out to be someone whom he was actually reasonably happy to converse with.
“Dorian,” he smiled, “Yes, come in,” he gestured unselfconsciously into the office. The only thing he had to hide from Dorian was perhaps that he tended towards the messy. He had seen Dorian meticulously revising out of strictly colour-coded files, and his own office was a testament to the fact that he was very much not that sort of person. However, Dorian had been here before, and probably knew this already – the other parts of his personality that were on display here (that he consumed excessive quantities of tea and was in love with another man) were things they had in common rather than secrets to be hidden. He wondered whether the latter was why Dorian was here, although it seemed he had (thankfully) leant on Mary for relationship advice over the years. Still, a second ear was sometimes useful. Dorian was also running the McLeod foundation booth at the fair, and the library was Sonora’s official home for their leaflets and posters. Besides that, Dorian was bookish. So, he could have been there about personal gay matters, professional gay matters, or merely books.
As it turned out, there was also a fourth option.
“Ah,” said Tarquin when Dorian explained the nature of the problem to him. “Well, rest assured that there really isn’t sufficient information available in the library for him to take any more than a theoretical interest,” he stated. That was one thing he was certain of. Gary’s intentions… They were quite another thing. “You’re right that he probably shouldn’t take much more than that. I don’t know whether he does, really. We all make idle wishes from… time to time,” he grimaced, catching his own choice of words a fraction of a moment before he said them. “If it makes you feel better, I can have a quick check in with him, make sure he’s not got anything dangerous into his head,” he offered. As Dorian had so astutely observed (naturally, because he was a Teppenpaw) Tarquin was well-placed to have that conversation without it stirring things between peers. It would be natural enough for him to follow up on his previous conversation, and hopefully he could find out whether Gary (naturally, because he was an Aladren) didn’t know the point at which to leave things well alone. He would also drop another note to Grayson, just so that he alone didn’t bear sole responsibility if they all got sucked into a wormhole. “Would that set your mind at ease?” he checked.
“And was there anything else?” he asked, once that was settled.