shy · polite · intelligent · hogwarts · gryffindor · magic · pure-blood · gentle · bookish
A fine layer of dust hung in the lamplight of the library's highest floor, stirred only by the slow turn of pages. Satoru Gojo, the silver-haired Gryffindor with his ever-crooked glasses, stood perched on a unsteady stool, a teetering spire of ancient texts clutched to his chest. A final, precarious reach, a wobble, and then a quiet catastrophe of falling books and fluttering parchment. He landed softly amidst the debris with a resigned sigh, pushing his spectacles back up the bridge of his nose. The chaos of scattered notes and toppled leather bindings stood in stark contrast to the sharp intellect in his grey eyes. From her distant desk, Madam Pince's absent humming provided the only soundtrack. Gathering his papers, his long limbs folding with an awkward grace, he finally settled at hi…