AN: Important to note that Aubrey was an Elf in a previous life, and they don't generally care about the level of nudity one has around friends. She really doesn't care if non-enemies see her naked. She knows it's not something people do, but she doesn't care. It seems stupid to her, and her blatant breaking of social norms in her room so often blunted Sarah to it. Hence the opening of the chapter. I just want to avoid people saying it's unrealistic, or inappropriate or whatever. It's contextually reasonable for this character. Other than that?
Have a good chapter!
It is Christmas Morning that I wake up in my room in Hogwarts. Snuggled on top of Sarah, who is lightly shaking me awake.
It's 5:30 AM, and dammit. I wanted to sleep in today.
"Get up lazy bones! It's Christmas!" She whispers, seeing me awake. I groan in dissatisfaction.
"I wanna sleep," I tell her. She gives me a shake.
"Not a chance. You wake me up at 5:00am every damn day, so you can wake up at 5:30 on Christmas! The presents are here and the stockings are stuffed. It's time to open them." She informs me.
I roll off of her, and out of my blankets grumpily. "Fine." I mutter, going over to the bathroom. "But you're going to have to wait for me to shower first." I call over my shoulder to her. I'd not done it the night before, because I was too tired from the snow-wars we'd fought.
I chuck my freshly removed sleeping shirt at her, as I step fully into the bathroom, getting a startled yelp out of her. I hop into the shower as I hear her crashing to the floor to get me back - I flip on the water.
"Cheating bint!" She yells at me from the doorway. I merely give her a wink and then get back to washing myself.
Six minutes later, I hop out of the shower, to be pelted by no less than three towels.
"Thanks!" I chirp, having caught the second one. She only grumbles at me, as I dry off. Pretty sure I hear her muttering about cheaters, but I can't be sure. I'm pulling on my in-doors comfort clothes, the sweater, in particular, when she jumps me.
"Presents?" She asks. I roll my eyes.
"Fine." I tell her. It's still not even six in the morning, yet. Usually you do this at 7:00 or 8:00 am, after breakfast.
Whatever.
She dives into the pile of presents. We have about fifteen a piece. One from our friends, (Cedric, Adrian, Alicia, Heather, etc) which were mostly books (from the boys), candy, (from most of the girls) or complimentary jewelry sets to our regular attire (Heather).
I had three presents from my parents, one from each set of grandparents, and one, which wasn't signed, but I knew came from Harry.
The surprise gift I got, came from 'The Greengrass Family" which was completely unexpected.
My family sent more books on the basic family magic, and how it works. Basically primers on what's to come. When I showed understanding, I'd be given the next set of books.
My mom had sent me a book on how to enchant something so it would be able to be kept a secret. Be this a book, a place or a person, these were basic charms and enchantments to help hide anything. The attached note of 'every girl needs a place to hide things' was all I needed to know about the why.
Just security for myself, then. If she was giving me this, she knew how to beat it, or trusted me to not hide anything she wouldn't approve of from her.
My Grandparents hadn't sent any big surprises. Sweets, a few plushies which I liked (I collected fox plushies, but only ones which were unique. These appear to be a more eastern style of fox, as opposed to my others, which were more western, or American style plushies.)
Harry Potter had sent a very interesting gift.
"Warding Magic - Family Specializations". The Potter family were Ward-Masters, traditionally. They had laid a lot of the wards for the Roman Empire, and were well known in Britain for producing some of the best Ward Masters to date.
This was a family-magic tome on some of their secrets, from the fore-word on the book, on how they remove protections from older buildings to update their wards. It is an extremely advanced book, doubtless beyond my ability to use. However, it would be very useful as a bridge into advanced Ward-Breaking and advanced Ward-Laying. I could definitely use it.
This, to a great number of people, would be taken as him offering marriage of himself to whomever was most eligible to my family.
That person happens to be me.
I'd not mention it to him, other than to be very very careful about whom he sends such things to, since it could be very uncomfortable.
The Greengrass family present was last. They'd sent a surprise, some Jewelry. A hairpin. With the hairpin, was an invite to spring ball / stay-over for spring solstice celebrations with their family. I was being permitted one guest.
I hit the pin with an Observe and reeled as though struck when I Observed the intricate hairpin.
The Final Kiss.
Rare Accessory.
Single Use Weapon.
Guaranteed Death upon proper use.
The Greengrass Family were Britians 'problem solvers' back before the Roman invasion, and as such their family magic has to do largely with stealth, assassination, and all that entails. It was more recently (about 300 years or so ago) that the family pivoted to the new form - Medicinal Potion and ingredient manufacturing, as the Black Family was filling the role they occupied, and the head at the time didn't care for the role of 'cleanup' for discreet matters. This pin was their preferred weapon for females of the family. It looks like an inoffensive piece of jewelry, and tucked into hair it would get through detection charms, as the hair is always charmed in some way, and that magic covers the magic of the pin.
These days, they offer them to friends of their house at the beginning of potential talks of alliance.
Well this is interesting. The Greengrass family is a solid, core Neutral House, politically. They have no real alliances, and swing whichever way they please. They have ties to the Druidic house of Bones, from ancient times, and the Ancient House of Longbottom, more recently. Those were their 'Light Side' connections.
On the Darker side of the range, they have ties to the Blacks - had, rather - Cassiopeia is the only one left, and she is well over one-hundred and fifty, so likely to die soon. The other dark family was the Druidic clan of Pervelle.
Most didn't remember them, but they were the house which produced Necromancy as a school of Magic. They 'cheated death' in the book of the Three Brothers, but they had toned that down. The Three Brothers hadn't made a bridge to cross a literal river which was uncrossable.
They made a bridge to cross the line between life and death. This is why Death, the true aspect, gave them gifts. The last brother - the only survivor of the line, and his children, swore off Necromancy, and as of 60 years ago - the Last Pervelle left Britain, and was assassinated in Austria some twenty years ago. Unless he had children, which as far as we know, he didn't, the line was dead.
Their closest relatives were the Potters - which were a staunchly light-sided family. Ancient and Noble - like the Blacks, the Potters getting the Pervelle seat on the Wizengamot was all but a formality, if the family didn't die out with Harry.
They were looking for a conservative replacement to the Pervelle Family, but looking to distance themselves from the Dark Side after it's two resounding, back to back defeats. A good move politically, and one they couldn't be faulted for. We are a neutral - strictly so - house. We rarely vote on anything in the Wizengamot, but when we do - we usually win the vote, because it's an important issue, or we're required to vote.
The Hawthorne family is old, respected and reclusive as the Greengrass family is. The pairing makes sense.
I would still need to write to my father about this, and see what he thought. As the Heir apparent (as my brother had not been declared Heir, yet, and I was oldest it was still on me, technically) I would be expected to represent us, in this.
Manners Maketh Man.
As my thoughts were tearing through my head at gale-force-speeds, I felt a hand touch my shoulder, and snap out of it.
"Aubrey?" Sarah asks, concerned. I blink at her, and then carefully set the pin down in the box it had come in.
"Sorry." I start, standing, and walking over to my desk. "But this isn't a normal Christmas gift. While it's not guaranteed, would you like to join me to a Spring ball, if it pans out?" I ask, drawing out a parchment, to begin writing father.
"Sure - won't it be odd, bringing a girl to a ball?" She asks, I shrug.
"Not really, we'd stay the night, and if I use this as an excuse - you're my closest friend, we share a room and I practice all kinds of things with you - then there'll be no questions. It's odd, not completely out of the norm. It's far better than taking Cedric of Adrian, since their houses are firmly against '' - Cedric's - "Or unable to ally with the family whom we would go to the ball of" - Adrian's. As I explain I feel her understanding.
"As a Muggleborn I don't have those societal restrictions, and you've been teaching me pureblood politics and etiquette for the last year. Even a few dance lessons, more recently." She says in a dawning, understanding way.
"Exactly. I'd thought we'd have a few more years, but now we're going to focus on Dance, Etiquette and how to handle yourself, until Spring Break. We're already past our second year curriculum. You were what, in fourth year stuff, last I checked?" I ask.
"Yea, I was. The room makes studying so easy. It knows what I need to fully grasp what is being taught in the best way. I suppose I can take a break, then." She tells me, I smile.
"Good. you'll want to join me for morning runs, and while we practice etiquette, we'll be standing or walking in heels. We'll do it two of our days each week, to make sure we're used to wearing them. I hear they kill your feet, and would like to build up my tolerance to that, before I need to dance, walk and stand in them for three hours or more." I tell her. She shudders.
"Yea, well… We can do that. What about dancing?" She asks. I smirk.
"That'll be the other days. I'll still hold my daily practice, but I'll also practice with you on Tuesdays and Thursdays. We'll do etiquette on Monday and Friday." I tell her, she nods.
Plan set, I write my letter to Papa, asking what we should do. As head of the family, he would have final say.
The reply came not eight hours later. I got approval to negotiate on our behalf. Only as long as he got the final check before I signed anything.
As the owl winged out with my questions for father, I went down to join what was now a daily snow-war. They were always fun. All hands for themselves!
I kinda cheated by making a snow fortress with a charm, then summoning all snow within 3 meters into a large pile, which I then changed into snowballs with a complex set of charms, and then enchanted to chase down, and annihilate, anyone who hit my fort with a snowball.
Having done this in my fort - no one knew until they tried to get me - a small team, made of the Weasley Twins, Harry, Ron and Hermionie. They looked to be having fun. Teaming up was cheating, though.
I duplicated my pile of Snowballs with a Gemnio charm. Teach them to cheat.
This was the start of the Christmas Massacre.
Professor Flitwick was the only survivor.
It was after this, I was warming up by a fire, sipping cocoa, that I was approached, to my surprise by the Weasley twins.
"Hello oh venerable -" Fred starts
"And Glorious -" George continues
"And fair Princess of Ravens!" Fred finishes.
"We would ask something of you." George says. "We were wondering how, and where you get off to, that completely evades us. You do it many times a week. Often in towers, up high…" he points up and north-west - the Room of Requirement.
"Or deep, down in the dungeons" Fred continues, and points in the Northeast corner, where the hidden passage to the hidden wing is. Nothing interesting over there. Just useful for being alone or practicing stuff I don't want to do in the room.
"Why should I tell you? What's in it for me?" I ask. I'll assume they have or made a map like mine. One to track every person in the castle. "I figure you have the Marauders Map, or something like it if you're talking about it like this. If you followed me, you would know." I tell them, and their eyes widen.
"How do you know about the map?!" Fred hisses. I smile.
"I have a better map, and when I made it, I based it on the charms the Marauders used to make theirs, but with improvements." I tell them, lying. Not like they'll believe I have Rowena's map.
"Their notes?" George asks, dazed. "How did you find their notes?" He asks. I grin at him cheekily.
"I know where to look for what I want. They didn't record everything on their map, like I did for mine" I tell them. I can see they want my map, but are refraining from asking for it - to even see it - because they know it's a breach of conduct to do so.
They're good lads.
"Do you think we could see their notes?" Fred asks. I nod at him.
"Do you want the Lewd notes, the pranking notes, or their school notes? And you can only pick one Marauder. If I do all five of them, then I'll be here all day."
There were only four Marauders, but they had inducted a fifth into their group in their seventh year - the sole female of the group.
"There are only four, though." George says, with a tone hinting at stern disbelief and slight anger.
"In their seventh year, after they made the map, since they did that in fifth year, they inducted the fifth Member - Vixen - into their group." I tell them. They blink.
"Oh." Fred says, before looking to George, who looks back. A moment later they nod.
"Prongs, since he was the leader. We'd like his notes. On pranking, if you could." They ask in unison.
"With the stipulation you don't prank me, ever, unless you are also targets for the prank - IE a whole school prank." I tell them, they hold out a hand.
"Deal." We shake - I use both of my hands and they use one, each.
The twins have different dominant hands, this is how a lay-person can tell them apart. No one else seemed to figure it out, though.
I smile and skip off to make copies of the notes. I would need to bring in my own supplies and use the copying-spell. It was a spell people usually used to cheat on exams, which I had learned to devise a counter I could cast on my own paper, after two people had used it to copy my exact answers.
In my handwriting, too. They'd been given a Fail and two weeks of detention, along with a loss of ten house points each, but still.
I skipped up to my dorm room and got the supplies - 3 spiral-bound notebooks, and 12 ink-pots. Should be enough. The Notebooks were 300 pages each. I tossed them in my book-bag. After, I put the case of ink in. I made sure to put it in the pocket for ink. Most people forget or don't have one in their bags, but they really should have them for our schooling. Then I headed out. I used a variety of nifty passages and roundabouts to lose any who may try to follow me.
The twins may give it a shot, and probably knew how to fool the map, by now. I certainly do. Though having figured it out recently I was gradually using it so if someone was monitoring the castle closely and / or me, it would look like a more natural transition to not going to my most frequent haunts.
I slipped into the room - the stack of notes present for copying.
I'm sure there's a more effective way of doing this, but the copying spell, which is able to do 5 (front and back) parchments at a time, would have to do. I could only cast it once every minute per book, even with drying charms for the ink, it wouldn't be good to go faster.
In all it would take me 3 hours, on Christmas Day, to make the notebooks. The copy spell was more of a charm to transfer the thing from one page to another. Using your magic to "store" what the page looked like, and then copy that to the page you're using. Sarah had come up two hours in, and had held what amounted to a debate on formal etiquette, done in the formal, most proper way as dictated by the etiquette we were arguing about. This was how you raised politics and etiquette at the same time.
You held debates on the semantics of something (as politicians do) in a proper forum as dictated by the rules of society - or etiquette. Good politicians also do this, but not all. Some of the more 'nefarious' ones don't, and while they have bad wraps, the fact they can get away with it means they are scarily good at 'the game' as it were.
In short - the mindless task of cast - wait 15 seconds, cast, wait 15 seconds, cast, etc. Was cut down in how long it felt with this. I made sure to correct everything she did wrong, and she did the same for me. Posture, foot angles, hand movements, eye movement, we made sure everything was flawless.
I know my politics skill gained two levels in the hour-long debate. Etiquette gained one. She had improved marginally during the debate as well. If the improvement stuck…
"Done!" I announce, as she finishes her closing statements on why you should use the little fork for eating specific deserts (and she's correct, in the usage) and I slap the third notebook closed. "Want to do a celebratory dance?" I ask, as the room begins playing a traditional orchestral waltz, I do the proper motions of asking another to dance, formally, though my words are informal as all get out.
This room, if nothing, really knew how to set the tone.
"Surely so, m'lady." She says, snootily offering a hand. I take it, and we begin to dance.
She had some dance lessons when she was young, but had little success as a solo performer. This made it easier for her to learn partner dancing. She was only slightly less skilled than I am at dancing at this point. We worked through various forms of Waltz while we were there, all the forms I knew. Most of them we messed up, frequently.
It still earned us a point in dancing, those good forty-five minutes of practice. When we finished, it was 2:00 pm - lunch would be ending in 30 minutes, so I formally excused myself from the dance, and then collected my things, and she followed me out.
One must maintain perfect manners while still on the dance floor.
Once I left, she followed, and was bouncing behind me, excited.
"Can we do that, like, every day? It was honestly fun! I like holding debates! And the Dancing! Ugh! I might not be very good, but with you it's reminding me of why I tried to dance when I was younger!" She continues blabbering about how wonderful a time she had for a few minutes as we walk. I'm content to nod along and assure her, yes, if she wants we can debate whenever and wherever she likes, and yes, we can have dance practice many times a week.
We can practice debate while dancing. At the same time. I assure her as we settle into eating.
"It'll happen in the real world. People use dancing as an excuse to get a semi-private conversation with someone all the time. I expect you will be the only Muggleborn, and thus a hot commodity, at the party." I tell her. She blinks.
"Why would a muggleborn be interesting to a Pureblood crowd?" She asks, and I get a predatory grin.
"To find cracks in my family, our knowledge. If you don't know something basic, like who the Sacred 28 are, for whom the Druidic houses are, then they will think we don't know or care about such things, and that we're uncultured. It's a political weakness. If you can play the part of perfect pureblood, though, and no one can contest your points or knowledge, then we have none - we're a good pureblood house who is worthy of the title of Druidic House." I inform her. She seems shocked.
"But with a Halfblood or Pureblood, it's not the same, then?" She asks, and I shake my head.
"Not so much. They'd be expected to be taught by their parents, it wouldn't reflect on me or my family as badly. Whomever it is then is just poorly taught by their lineage, not by me. I can't control their behavior. The negative I would have is I personally look dumb. 'You should know better than to bring a freshly broken stallion to a big-time-horse-race' as the saying goes."
"Not sure that's a saying" Sarah comments. I smile.
"It is now. All saying had to start somewhere." I say, earning a chuckle. "Now let's get back to eating - we have a giant enchanted snowman to make." I announce. "And snow golems to destroy people when we aren't there to defend our fort." I whisper, and she gains a sinister grin as we share a hearty, very evil and in no way cute cackling session.
I assure you. Very, very evil.
It was now the 27th, and after spending a couple days with my friends, training and so forth, I was physically a bit tired, but mentally stimulated.
It was so I decided to slip out of the common room and do some exploring. On holidays, Curfew was Midnight - this was because no classes, and a reasonable expectation. It was 10:00 when I slipped out. I was exploring for over an hour - the corridors of the castle revealing many new doors which I knew existed in theory, but had never seen (thanks to the map) but now could confirm. I was walking down a previously empty corridor when I heard voices.
"... Mirror of Erised." Dumbledore's voice came. "I trust, by now, you realize what it does?" He asks, pausing, as the faint shuffle of robes indicates he moves a bit in the room. "Well, let me give you a clue, I suppose." He continues as I mouth, and he says "The happiest man on earth would see only his reflection"
Harry replies - this shocks me minorly, but not too greatly. The two go back and forth on the topic for a few minutes - it's all things I've either discovered or figured out about the mirror, except the bit where it's claimed the attention of many - to the point where they have gone mad at the beck and call of the mirror.
Soon, the invisible, but audible padding Harry went off to return to his home. I silently slid into the room he had left, to see Dumbledore looking into the mirror with an odd sort of sadness.
"Strange, to get so sad over a mirror, if you're seeing socks." I tell him, looking in quickly, and finding my reflection is still the scene by the fire. I'm sure that book is written in Elder Futhark, though. How odd.
"Indeed... " the old man replies. "I wonder, what you must have faced to become what you are. Before you rang hollow, uncertain and undecided. Now you ring lightly, a happy ball of the light. Awakened, as Nick would call you." He says, patting the mirror, before a cover flips into existence to cover it.
"Imagine a demon which cannot be killed, and the only way to send it back is to trade a living soul for it. You have two choices - your soul, or a young childs." I tell him, and he looks horrified. I smile sadly. "I was okay with throwing myself on that fire, but found a way around it. You remember? I've told you this story before. It was taunting me with a bit of folklore - the gods alone could kill the demons. I didn't realize the gods, in my mind, are the same ones as out here. They told me, very sternly, not to do it again. I think I got a touch lucky." I tell him the story with slightly different wording. No reason to lie. This man could be a big help to me, and is known to, if you're favored by him, look over some things.
"Indeed? And what is the demon called?" He asks. I shake my head.
"My family calls them the Walkers of the Night. We dare not say the real name, lest we invoke one to come." I tell him, he nods, understandingly.
"For me, it was a trial to save a friend, or to sacrifice them for power. I chose the route of salvation. He chose the route of sacrifice." Dumbledore tells me. I shudder. The history books…
"Grindelwald? I'd read you and he worked together in your youths, the more detailed history books on the great wizarding war go over this in detail, along with the pact that forced you to not fight, among other things." I tell him, revealing that card. It wasn't a well known thing - the book I'm referencing is very rare, due to its perceived lies, which are solidly backed up facts.
True history is often the ugliest history. Fact, stranger than fiction.
"Indeed, Gellert was salvageable. One of the unseen requirements I have for Defence teachers is to be awakened, as you and I are. The older, more powerful Aurors are often such, due to their connection to their magic and bodies. The same can be said for Goblin Warmasters, and the Head Curse-breakers of Gringotts." He tells me. I squint.
"I'm the youngest, then?" I ask and he nods, affirmative.
"It's something passed, master to apprentice. Something you can only learn if you've been through both great strife, a significant loss and have achieved what would be considered a mastery in the mental arts. At your age, it's tremendous." He confirms what I'd thought. I wonder, then, how the process had been founded. Had someone, like me, stumbled into it? Was it something else?
"Interesting. I figure it can't hurt. The added power and stamina is nice, but frankly I don't need it. I just want to.. Help people, and I think the best way to do that is to increase the public resources we have on tap. Curse-Breaking and Teaching are the best ways I can think to do this. You have to be at least Five years out of school to teach, though, so in the intermediary, I figure breaking a few curses couldn't hurt!" I tell him. He seems amused by this.
"The schooling for a Curse-Breaker is three years, and then another three apprenticing to become recognized officially. Another three would be required to achieve the title of Master Cursebreaker. I foresee you teaching in your thirties, maybe, but for now, focus on your adventure - and have fun!" He tells me cheerily. I smile leisurely up to him.
"That's the plan, boss. Say, you wouldn't happen to have any recommendations for books to read on late-sixth year magical theory, would you? I know someone who's struggling with the Transfiguration concepts in that portion of their studies, and would like to have a recommendation." I ask innocently. I am, of course, the person I know who is looking for the recommendation.
"The books I learned from, and that I used for OWLs and beyond are called "Harshaw's Guide for the Journeyman-Level Transfiguration Students" and "Muillivanders Guide to Master-Level Transfiguration." he tells me. I note the names in my head - they sound old, certainly.
"Any supplements?" I ask, his facial hair twitches.
"Tranfigurer's Guide to Advanced Concepts" and "Basics for Multi-layered Transfiguration." He tells me. I smile. Bingo.
Layered transfiguration was the NEWT level subject I couldn't understand. The Guide to Advanced Concepts would also help decode some words which only specialists would know, I hoped. The other books, which I'd never heard of, were probably the ones for NEWT level 60 years ago. Quality in average for Transfiguration had dropped globally since then, while requirements for a Mastery had become harder, so they were probably more commonly used as Bridge-books from formal schooling into an apprenticeship for a Mastery, these days.
Layered spells in general just make no sense. Imagine trying to punch, slap, poke and palm-jab someone all at once, while with the other hand, doing other complex actions that are likewise impossible. It wasn't magical control, at that point. It was about knowledge of how to make it do the thing, not if you can.
I couldn't figure out how. Not naturally, anyways - well not quickly and easily. I'd figure it out eventually (a broken clock must be right twice a day, after all.) but I'd rather have the shortcut than to stumble around blindly looking for an answer. I suppose a teacher normally explains the process to the class in question, instead of them learning from a book
A shame I was studying ahead of my year groups, to try and be ready when the promised hardship comes. It might be tomorrow, it may be in twenty years. My experience is showing it is likely to be later in life, but it may seem it will never come.
Disasters have a habit of hitting you when you least expect them.
I smile at the man. "As the champion of the Duelists tournaments in your youth, are there anything you'd recommend to me as an aspiring duelist? I'm practicing with dueling-dolls right now. I've gotten to stage eight, recently, but was wondering what other things I could look into." I ask, this will be my last question.
"Ah, that's an interesting question!" He says, stroking his beard, eyes ablaze in twinkles. "The best advice I have on that front is to focus on terrain alteration. Most duelists focus on spells which are more direct. The best alter the environment, to make it do the work for them. I would say one in three spells should change some aspect of the environment." He tells me. "The best spells for me were always fire and earth transfiguration - creating walls of stone and transfiguring the ground into live-coals. Not hard to deal with but something you have to deal with, no less. That split second may - and will - win you many duels. A duel-doll won't react to these, but a real duelist will. It's the weakness of the dolls." He tells me, and my eyes go wide.
I'm so dumb like - okay. When I'd started out, it'd been fighting like that, but now? I don't even think about it, but it's just so obvious! Of course you should… ugh.
Well, I guess I'll need to get those nailed down, too. Combat transfiguration. I'd likely use them much less than every third spell, but they would be a useful trick to have.
My combat style was developing into misdirection into trapping and breaking the foe against sentient enemies. Non-Sentient foes were a simple 'probe-deflect-probe-kill' style. Probe for weakness, deflect the counter, confirm weakness, then exploit and kill them through their weakness.
It wasn't nice, but being 'good' wasn't always 'nice' or 'moral.' Sometimes, being good requires radical or outright mean action. Evil won't play by the rules, so I won't either.
The law can only protect when it is protected. Clearly this world, as advanced as it is, happens to be rather corrupt and ineffectual, in some parts.
Or maybe I'm bitter from what my father did to me, and how that reflects on the government he serves. We'll see, I suppose, as I get older.
"Thanks for the tips! I'm not really as predisposed to Transfiguration as you are, sir, but I think it'll really be good, going forward. I think I prefer, and frankly am better at, charms!" I chirp, before giving him a bow.
"I think that's all my questions - unless you needed anything else?" I ask, he just smiles and waves me off.
"No, no. I think you should be getting along. We're almost to midnight, and if I remember right, you have a curfew..?" He says, and I blink.
Had I been out that long? Hopefully Sarah doesn't kill me. She doesn't do well when she doesn't get to sleep early. I bow again, then skip on out of the room.
My pillow awaits! Be a shame to keep it waiting.