Closed A Fallen Poem

Rosalind was strolling along the corridor, minding her own business. Classes hadn't been too hard so far, which she greatly appreciated. She hummed slightly to herself, feeling pretty good, without a care in the world. As she was moving along however she noticed a slip of parchment fall from the boy in front of her's bag, floating down and to the ground. Rosalind picked it up, and without really thinking read part of the contents. It appeared to be a poem. How delightful, she thought. Was he a poet? The idea fascinated her. But she had to stop herself - surely the boy would miss this if he knew it to be lost. "Hey!" she called out, jogging to make up the distance between them.

Cyrus was enjoying his classes, glad they seemed to be at least a little more challenging than last year, though they were still fairly simple. He had hopes it would get more difficult as the semester progressed. He was walking through the corridor, a bit lost in thought, when he suddenly heard a voice yell behind him. Cyrus turned, seeing one of his classmates running up to him. It was a Gryffindor girl, not one he had talked to before, though he knew her name was Rosalind from sharing classes with her. He eyed her a little suspiciously. "Are you talking to me?"

"Yeah!" Rosalind said as she caught up. "You dropped something." She held the poem in her hands, not quite offering it back. She looked down at the poem, then up to the boy. She recognised him from classes - Cyrus, she thought. "Are you a poet?" she asked, very seriously, her eyes wide with expectation.

Cyrus sighed and nodded when the girl explained he had dropped something, that made sense. He raised his hand to take the poem from her, but realized she wasn't handing it to him yet. He hesitated at her question, glancing at the paper again. It was one of his poems, and clearly, Rosalind had read it. "Er, yes." He said quietly. "Attempting to be, anyway." He shrugged slightly. It wasn't that he was ashamed of his poems, but he also liked to choose who to share them with. This was a little scary, seeing this stranger who had an opinion on something he wrote. At least, he assumed she did. Was she about to laugh in his face? He had no idea.

"Oh, wow!" Rosalind exclaimed, a little bit loudly, and definitely suddenly. "That's amazing! And your poem's really good. I think poetry is just swell," she said with a bright smile on her face. "Oh, you probably want it back, huh?" Rosalind chuckled lightly and offered it back to the boy. She decidedly thought he was very cool, and he seemed slightly aloof as well, which made him seem all the more cooler in Rosalind's estimation.

Cyrus hadn't expected the girl to be so loud, but at least she was positive. He smiled hesitantly, his nerves easing. She thought it was good? "Oh, thanks." He said, trying not to show just how excited he was to get positive feedback. "And thanks for picking it up." He took the paper from her and folded it carefully. "Do you read a lot of poetry?" He asked, wondering if they had something in common.