[Storeroom eleven is exactly what it sounds like - one of many archival rooms off the Gallows library itself, filled with a great deal of crates and shelves of files artifacts and miscellaneous special collections and so on and so forth. A space has been cleared in the center of the overflowing room. A young lady, very blonde and very bored, is sitting on one of the far crates writing in a small notebook with a steel nibbed pen.
Her temperament improves radically at the sound of her name. Brightening by considerable degrees, Wysteria is on her feet immediately. The pen is tucked (seemingly) into the elaborate knot of her braided hair and the little notebook is tossed haphazardly aside to be retrieved at some later moment when she recalls its importance.]
Miss Granger! What a delight it is to make your acquaintance. Properly, I mean. In the flesh.
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Her temperament improves radically at the sound of her name. Brightening by considerable degrees, Wysteria is on her feet immediately. The pen is tucked (seemingly) into the elaborate knot of her braided hair and the little notebook is tossed haphazardly aside to be retrieved at some later moment when she recalls its importance.]
Miss Granger! What a delight it is to make your acquaintance. Properly, I mean. In the flesh.