Violet quite liked being the librarian at the school. It was interesting to her and she loved finding books for students that held an answer to one of their questions. She was far from reading them all, but every day she plugged away at them. The Ollivander woman was serious about her job. She didn't want to have the Headmaster think that she slacked at it, no matter what. Her future career depended upon how well he thought she worked as a member of the staff at Hogwarts. One day, she hoped to become the Arithmancy professor.



It was while she was reading in the library that she noticed an owl perched upon one of the desks nearby. It stared directly at her. She did not recognize it and went to see who the parcel it carried was meant for. Her own name was scrawled across it. Curiously, she took the letter out and read it. It was a rather sweet gesture, for she'd never been gifted something by a man before. She treasured the moment and gingerly opened the package. The book inside was something she had not read, but had hoped to. With a bright smile upon her lips, she grabbed a piece of parchment and wrote back:



Mister Wakefield,



I will try to visit to admire your library soon.



She signed her name and sent the owl on its way. Unable to stop smiling, she settled herself down and began to read the book he'd given her.



A few days later it was Saturday, and she finally had the day off. She dressed in something more stylish than usual, a pale silvery grey with an embroidered striped and curling pattern. The ruffles around the neck, sleeves and layers of the bustle were a matching grey color, while the details such as the ribbon around her waist and along her bustle were a soft gold. It fit her well and in her opinion, softened her freckled features considerably.



It was late afternoon when she called on him. It had not snowed that day and the ground was relatively dry. Her fiery red hair was curled and pinned back away from her face with a small golden ribbon woven through it like a headband. She knocked upon his door, suddenly nervous. Perhaps she should not have come. He was rather forward with her - was it really appropriate for her to come to call on him?

It was only a moment before she was ushered into his home. Her cheeks and nose were pink from the cold. The home was lovely, though she did not have long to admire it. Mr. Wakefield appeared shortly after. He seemed happy to see her, although she was somewhat unannounced. She had wanted it that way, to catch him unawares so that he could not prepare for her visit in whatever way he might. She much preferred to see him in a natural state than one that was made up and bold like their first meeting. Perhaps that was his natural state. If that was the case, she wasn't quite sure what to think of it.



"I did," She told him somewhat shyly, "Thank you for it, I quite enjoyed it. It was rather kind of you to send it." Being a woman who spent so much time reading books (her entire life, almost), she read rather quickly. Most of the time, she could read three or four books in a day, depending on their thickness.



An amused and somewhat guiltily smile graced her lips at his comment. Perhaps he had bribed her with the offer to visit his library. While flowers and trinkets often won other women over, books were Violet's weakness. "Tea would be lovely," She replied and clasped her hands together in front of her skirts. She felt a little awkward being there, and suddenly realized that she had acted rather foolishly in coming here.



It was not proper for her to be alone with a man. Then again, her marriageable prospects were slim - or none, rather. Her reputation was not as clean as it could be simply because of her occupation. She had fallen slightly in status, but that did not mean that she would act as a harlot. The etiquette was instilled in her so deeply that she could not separate it from her morals.

Violet gracefully took the offer of his arm. Her hand rested lightly upon his forearm and she made sure to keep herself far enough from him so that their bodies did not brush inappropriately. She had not forgotten his behavior in the sweets shop and did not want to do anything to encourage him to think that she was interested in anything physical (whatever that meant.)



"It seems that the amount of people who read have grown fewer over the years," She commented. The book store that she often frequented on High Street was not as full as it once had been, despite the ever growing population of the village. People had simply shied away from them, for whatever reason. Violet couldn't imagine what her life would be like if she were to forsake books as well. She read at least one a day, but it was usually what occupied her free time. "There aren't very many students who frequent the library, either, unfortunately." When she had been a student, she had visited the library every day.



She let her hand slip from his arm as she entered the library. The very sight of it brought a breathless gasp from her. Grey-blue eyes widened even further as her freckled face turned to view the spiral staircase. The polished wood, the hundreds (perhaps thousands) of books, it was all so very handsome. She felt a pang of envy for his collection. Her own was far from it - she couldn't have even filled a single shelf in this room.



Eyes round and an awestruck smile upon her lips, she finally spoke, "Why this - this is amazing! I hadn't even imagined how grand it would be!" It was more to herself than to him, for she was quite beside herself from the joy she so keenly felt. "So many books!" She continued, as she turned in a slow circle to admire every inch of the room.

The way he spoke about books told her that he was just as passionate about them as she was. It was nice to find someone who appreciated them. Booklovers were a dying breed. Most of them preferred to simply engage themselves in social activities. While that was all fine and dandy, Violet wished they wouldn't forget the important things in life either.



The fact that they were incredibly organized surprised her somewhat. Cage hadn't seemed the type to be so exact, but she found that she rather liked it about him. She followed his hand as he pointed to the different grouping of books, her grey-blue eyes increasingly brightening with each new word he spoke. "This is amazing, Mr. Wakefield. I would think that perhaps you own the most extensive library in Hogsmeade, only second to Hogwarts' library itself!" She was incredibly envious of it. One day, she told herself, she would own a library as great as he.



Cage showed her the Bible. In order to look closely at it - for her eyesight was not perfect - she leaned forward to admire the designs of the calligraphy upon the cover. It brought her nearer to him enough to accidentally brush her shoulder against his arm. Violet did not even realize it, so intent was she upon the world-renowned antique. She turned her freckled face to meet his gaze for a quick moment, "You are quite obviously not one of them, Mr. Wakefield. You've made a wonderful home for it, as well as the other books." Her cheeks reddened when she realized how closely she stood to him. The Ollivander woman straightened while her eyes slid shyly from him and returned to the many shelves of books once more.



"I have a few children's books myself," She admitted, "They were my own from childhood however, and regrettably a little rough looking because of it." Violet herself was incredibly careful with them, but her brothers teased her with them. If her favorite toy had been a doll, they would have ran around with it by it's hair and rubbed some dirt on her. Since it was a book, they would steal them and through them around. Several pages had been ripped out, but Violet had tenderly pasted them back together. "Most of the books in my collection are text books from school," She told him as she reverently ran her hand over the spines of the books near to her.

"I highly doubt that you are lacking when it comes to friends," She told him with a flit of a teasing smile. Even if they were all women, she was certain that with his level of charm and good looks he was able to claim many friends. Violet on the other hand, could claim acquaintances. She had made a friend in Sebastian Havisham and was rather fond of him, if only because they'd spoken so candidly with each other. It was much easier to get to know someone when both parties didn't hide behind a veil of etiquette and society's expectations.



The book that he held out for her interested her greatly. "Ancient Egypt has always fascinated me," She admitted as she carefully took the old book from him. Gingerly, she opened it and began to scan the contents of the pages. Perhaps he might let her borrow it one day so that she could thoroughly read it. With her nose in the book and her eyes concentrated on the yellowed pages, she did not notice his nearness. It was only when the door below them opened did she look up.



"Alright," She agreed with a small smile and then returned to her book. Page after page was filled with the crude Egyptian drawings. What interested her in the most - and perhaps it was quite vulgar of her - were the pyramids that were erected for each pharaoh's tomb. To be so grand and rich to have such a great monument be built to encase one's rotting body - it spoke of power and beliefs that were far from anything she could compare it to.



A series of thumps quickly brought her eyes from the book to the staircase. The form of Mr. Wakefield falling down the stairs brought a gasp from her lips and widened eyes, "Mr. Wakefield!" She hurried down the stairs, careful to take them one at a time so that she did not fall either, and knelt beside him as he lay upon the floor. Worriedly, she asked, [b]"Are you alright, sir? Should I call for someone?"

Violet's smiled in amusement. Even after a fall down the staircase, he was still able to find a way to spin the situation into a compliment. If he was capable of doing such a thing, she decided she oughtn't be worried about him. He would be sore from the fall, but neither his head or his pride it seemed, were injured.



She sat back upon her heels in order to put a more respectable distance between them now that he had sat up. The next line of flattery brought a rather accusatory tone from her, although amusement still lingered, "Mr. Wakefield, you did not throw yourself down the stairs so that you could say such things to me I hope?" It was spoken in a teasing manner, although there was a hint of suspicion inside. He'd come up with such compliments rather quickly. She couldn't imagine that a man would actually do such a thing on purpose. It had looked very painful.



His staring brought an embarrassed redness to her cheeks. Violet refused to acknowledge his gaze upon her face and rose to a stand. His teasing was met with a soft laugh from her, for she thought it quite an entertaining thought. "Perhaps I am," She bantered in return, "I'm afraid you'll never know Mr. Wakefield."



Violet gestured to the tray of tea and tea biscuits, "I think that perhaps we ought to enjoy them down here in order to avoid a repeat. I fear that your balance is just as bad as your lines are, sir." She grinned widely, the corners of her eyes crinkling softly and chuckled at her own joke.

"Perhaps I'm simply being assuming, but I thought that they had come rather quickly to you. Have you had experience in falling down stairs in front of women?" She teased back with a quiet playfulness. In all honesty, she was glad that he was alright. He did appear to be quite sore from it, for he did not stand immediately, but he had not bled or broken anything. Blood made her squeamish. Just the thought of it repulsed her and she fought herself to think of something much more agreeable. It wasn't a difficult transition. With the many books before her, she quite easily began to think of them.



She sat herself upon the chair that he had led her to and crossed her ankles daintily underneath her grey skirts. Etiquette was bred in her and had been instilled at a very young age. Her father had hoped for her to marry a man above her social status which would not only bring herself to the upper class status, but it might also bring the rest of her family with her.



"Thank you," Violet accepted the cup he had offered her and took a sip. The tea was delicious, just as it always was. She was rather fond of it as well as the combination it made with books. It was incredibly peaceful (or would have been so, had she been alone.) Mr. Wakefield brought far too many blushes from her for her to be able to relax around him - not to mention that she felt as if she needed to keep him in check when it came to the level of appropriateness between them.



The cup froze in the air on the way to her lips, hovering between her chin and the ruffles of her blouse. It was rather bold of him to ask such a thing, and her smile turned into a frown. The matter was personal to her, and one that she did not like to speak of. She felt as if she had failed in that part of life and there was nothing that she hated more about herself than the fact that she was a failure. "That is quite bold of you, sir," She told him cooly, "It has been proven that I am not viewed as a woman who would make a suitable wife for the gentlemen that matter most." She took a long sip of her tea and suddenly wished that her cup was filled with something stronger... and Violet never drank anything more potent than tea.

It seemed like constantly, she was being told that the way she thought of herself was inaccurate. First Sebastian Havisham had told her that was incredibly marriageable, whether she believed him or not. Now it was Cage Wakefield who expanded on this, and even went as far to tell her how beautiful and perfect he found her. Perhaps it was a game to them, to toy with the heads of women who hadn't a speck of a chance in finding a husband. If it was, then it was incredibly cruel.



She remained stoically silent through his speech, her gaze focused on the tea in her cup and other parts of the room - anything other than him. Her blush deepened to a dark crimson that spread all over her face in unflattering blotches. By the time he had finished, a shy smile was across her lips, although she was too embarrassed to meet his eyes. It was minuscule in size compared to her usual smile, but it was there all the same.



Violet was quiet for a few moments. Finally, she brought her gaze up to level with his, her cup poised just under lips. "The thing is Mister Wakefield, the men who are actually looking for wives are not like you. They don't share the same sentiments and they do not appreciate the qualities that you seem to think I possess. You can flatter me all you want, sir, but it will not change the way things are."



The woman had heard the mention of himself in admiring her, but she had assumed that it fell along the lines of his flirtatious nature. She did not know him well enough to realize that he was being serious about the matter. "It is the reason I tried to become a Governess, but no one wanted me for that either, which is why I am now the school's librarian," She quite suspected that once she owned her own home, she would begin collecting cats as well. She already had one - Ella - who possessed the epitome of the cat-like independent attitude that they were so well known for.