Altiloquent: high flown or pretentious (of language).
May 15, 1897
The hall rang with applause. Every face was turned toward the raised podium, the tall, thin, bespectacled young man who reigned over it. His face, framed by a few stray auburn locks, looked scholarly and wise, despite its youth. His sharp blue eyes seemed to see everything.
"Good evening," he greeted, and when he spoke, it was with a draw to listen that even the headmaster had yet to perfect. "I realize that most of you arrived today with a certain skepticism for the temerity of one not even out of school yet publishing theories on Transfiguration. Myself included," he paused then as the audience rustled with appreciative snickers.
At the back of the room, a boy leaning against the wall rolled his eyes. As ifhe could ever doubt his own theories. As the speaker at the podium went on, spilling forth all those great long words he'd combed out of books, explaining to the learned community what most regarded as brilliant ideas – genius even, for one so young – the boy at the back made his way to the doors and slipped out, not troubling to muffle the thump the heavy oak made when they closed behind him.
And people had once thought them to be bookends….
A/N: Short, but since I've had a lot of long ones, I figured it was time for a short one. Bit vague, but how many people could this really be? Anyway, hopefully I'll get time to work on my OTHER story (the reading the books one on my cousin's profile) around Physics tonight, so that's why this is my only update today. Reviews are lovely, btw. :)