History's a subject as dead as it can be...

History. If there was one thing Margaret hated it was history. Her entire life was history, pages torn from a book of past humans. She'd seen far more than she should have, far more than anybody should have. The past was best left just that, the past.

But for Margaret it was everything. Her body may be in the present, but her mind resided in the past. Random periods in years past haunted her at random.

She felt like an alien. She could never fully be present, which was exactly why this project would be torture for her. She was constantly wavering between past and present. She had no friends. She could never focus long enough to carry on a real conversation. She'd been hoping to find somebody like her at Hogwarts, but she'd come across no such person. Were it not for her brother and sisters, Margaret likely would have curled up in a little ball long ago and waited to die.

She paused for a moment just outside the library as a snippet of conversation between a man and a woman flew through her brain, obscuring her vision. She stood idly by watching it take place, a lovers quarrel. Then it was over and she was standing in the stone halls of Hogwarts.

She shook her head trying to clear her mind, though his words still echoed in her brain. Margaret took a deep breath, preparing for the inevitable horridness of meeting with her partner.

She pulled open the doors and began searching the tables for Matt Knightly, a second year Hufflepuff she'd been assigned to work with. No good could come from this meeting. By the end he'd likely be just as disturbed by her as most people. She spotted him at a table much too far away for Margaret's liking. No, the farther she had to walk, the more likely she was to slip away again.

She set forth towards him unsurely, gently placing her bag on the table as she reached it. "Matt Knightly?" When she spoke, her voice was just barely above a whisper. Years of silence about what she saw had taught her it was best to talk as little and as quiet as possible. If fewer people heard you, fewer people could question you.

"Margaret Wood." she slid into the seat across from him, her eyes slipping down to her bag so she could busy herself with anything but a conversation.

Margaret looked up with a start as he referred to her as 'Wood'. Wood was her father, Margaret was always Margaret. Still, she'd rather allow him to call her 'Wood' than speak up and correct him.

The last of his words almost got lost in the depths of her mind, though fortunately she managed to catch the end of his sentence.

Margaret knew far too much about the Goblin Rebellions were a subject she was far too familiar with having witnessed some of the violent battles that had taken place. Margaret had watched as Urg the Unclean led one of the more famous battles, something she would have preferred to never hear about let alone watch.

She decided she'd best not go and run her mouth admitting the vast storage of information her head held. "Maybe, just start with the reading?" she suggested, her voice just as quiet as it was when she sat down.

Margaret glanced up at him, though she quickly looked back down to the reading. She knew the answer, but there was no real record of who made the first move to end the battle. The fighting had gone on for hours, plenty of casualties on both sides. Eventually, the wizards had put down their wands and offered Urg the Unclean a deal. Entering a deal with a goblin was never a good idea, but it seemed to have worked in that instance.

"Well neither side really won, did they?" she tucked a piece of long blonde hair behind her ear. "It was a horrible and long battle, but it still hasn't ended." she pointed out. As much as she hated history, this battle particularly, the Ravenclaw in her loved giving the correct answer. "They may have made a compromise, but there are still Goblins working against the Ministry."

The blonde fell silent once again. To her, the library seemed gray. She was confined inside it fearing for herself and the likelihood she'd end up back in one of the Goblin Rebellions.