"It's in Coptic... but maybe I can get a translation out for my Creative Writing class instead of torturing that poor villanelle any more? Hmm. It'd be in-affinity, that's something... Let me try something."

He lays a sheet of paper out on the table and closes his eyes. He mutters to himself and starts freewriting.

    "Wait, you can just do that?" asks Chloe, but Scorpius lifts a finger to his lips and just watches. No reason to distract him.

He opens his eyes after a few minutes. Looks down at the page. "...it'd be barely functional in this state, this is too literal, but give me... three days, any longer and I'll procrastinate about it. - I forgot to ask if you wanted it English or Latin, right now it's Latin because that way the accent difference can't trip you up."

"Latin's fine, I can't speak it but I can read it and cast in it."

Also: what the fuck. Sure, creative writing is the way you get new spells as opposed to old ones, but most people need to work at it for multiple days, sometimes weeks, to get anything barely functional. Yet here Lex is, freewriting a new spell like it's nothing. To him, it probably is nothing.

"- not often I get to do that," Lex notes. "Kind of nice."

"Kind of nice, he says, after coming up with an entire new translation of a spell just like that," Scorpius says, fixing a bit of Lex's hair that got a bit too ruffled by his own ministrations. "You're kinda bullshit, you know that?"

    "Seriously, Lake, do you have to do that shit here?" moans Magnus.

"I'm infatuated, sue me," he says, though Magnus does have a point and if they're going to be hogging the library seats they might as well actually do work.

Eeeee. Lex starts diagramming synonyms and word substitutions for the blood siphon.

A translation has to hew pretty close to the original meaning, but still sound like poetry. Really, you want it not only to sound like poetry, but to sound to your audience like the original would sound to a native speaker. This occasionally presents problems when, for example, you're translating between Coptic and Classical Latin, and there haven't been native speakers of either in thousands of years. Fortunately, prosody remains prosody, and it's not like he has to make it sound naturalistic, just real. And having his affinity in play means everything comes naturally. At one point he writes down a word and has to think for almost a full minute about where he heard it, only to remember that he read it in a blood-boiling hex two years ago and had to work it out from context.

Scorpius's history paper is on some... medieval conflict between enclaves, he keeps forgetting why they were fighting (at least ostensibly, the reason is always "I want more stuff for myself"), and it's really boring so he's not making a lot of headway. Slowly, trudgingly, and thankfully this is the last paper of the term so all he has to do is not fail horribly. He does not want to be the first person to find out if you can fail out of the Scholomance altogether.

They can spend their time in companionable mostly-silence. Other than Magnus's obvious displeasure generating an aura of doom strong enough to rival whatever Lex has got going on, people seem to be mostly fine with Lex's presence, and return to the normal small whispered exchange of notes and conversation in between doing actual work. No one else wants to find out if you can fail out of the Scholomance, either, and when the reward for studying is often "more and better tools for survival" people can get actually pretty interested in their homework.

What is "homework for other classes"? Lex has a special interest. Lex is going to do a special interest. (It is blood.)

He does think to ask "You carry a knife, right? And you'd be alright with a - no, hmm - would you be alright with needing to use a drop or so of blood to catalyze the spell? It'd make my life easier but some people don't have a enough practice with bloodletting to let out just a drop or so."

Scorpius raises a finger in Magnus's direction before he has a chance to work up the conniption he's about to have and says, "I've been cut enough times to know how to do it myself, yeah. And I do have a blade, although she would be very mad at me if I called her a knife, she feels very offended by being placed in the same category as kitchen utensils."

Which is not strictly true but not exactly false, either. Anything in this place—anything around wizards at all, really—is just dying to become a mal. Sure, wizards have come up with names for the most common types that often reproduce, but those are a tiny fraction of everything that exists, each new failed spell or artifice or concoction itching to make things come to life to hunt everyone. But intent helps, with magic, and he pampers his blade like crazy and makes sure it knows it's loved and cherished. He sharpens it almost every day, and polishes it every other day, and he has a special holster for it that he also cleans and oils regularly. It is a very spoiled blade.

"Naturally. Sorry, you carry an athame, like any sensible person. Thanks."

Back to writing writing writing and then startling, fifteen minutes later, at the bell.

It's just the end-of-class bell rather than the dinner bell, but this is usually the time when the library gets busiest and also one of the times many people take to go use the bathrooms, freshen up, do homework that they haven't gotten to during work period, etc.

Scorpius looks at Lex inquisitively and very clearly will follow him wherever he wants to go, if he does turn out to want to get up from here and go do something else.

Indeed, Lex seems a bit irritated by the rush. "-d'you want to head over to Pevensie's and surprise him before supper? Since it doesn't seem like we'll get any work done here."

"Absolutely," he says, and aah? He had expected he'd need to sort of get them used to each other through exposure or something and instead Lex is doing This, whatever This is, and he's kind of overwhelmed by happy feelings?

He puts his stuff away, hops to his feet, and gives a two-finger wave to the rest of the NY enclavers and hangers-on. "Later, gang." Magnus continues to ignore them but most of the others give at least a wave or a "Bye," Chloe included.

This is called winning at polyamory, Lake, try to keep up.

Lex follows him out. "...I don't know where Pevensie's room is but I assume you do, since you spent the night there. Still not over that, by the way."

"That's his story to tell, not mine," Scorpius says primly. "It was less fun than you're probably imagining."

And yes Scorpius certainly does know where the room is.

"I wasn't actually assuming you'd been cavorting with maleficaria, just that you managed to get distracted... but if you say it wasn't fun, I suppose I'll believe you."

"His blood still works for your potion, unfortunately."

"...huh. Also, virgin's blood still has no unique chemical or arcane properties, and you damn well know it."

"But it's a charming way to phrase it."

"Well. I can't argue with that."

Edmund's door, once they reach it, betrays its recent repair. "Did you help fix his door as well?"

"Nope, he's an enclaver, he can just put in a maintenance request and get it actually filled."

Knock knock.

"...ah. Somehow I always forget."

Edmund opens his door. "You! Both of you for some reason! Hello!"

"Hey, Ed! I don't know the reason either, Lex is the one who dragged me here, I think he wants to prove something. Not that I'm complaining I love it."