Nice day. Fresh from breakfast. Cobwebs floating down on her hair. The usual.

It was getting annoying that she was growing accustomed to seeing cobwebs around. That was so wrong. Utterly utterly wrong. If her grandmother was here the elves would meet a worse fate than clothes; the end of her six inch stiletto heel.

Ridding herself of cobwebs and tossing her hair behind her shoulder, Beverly strode over to her usual spot near the front, setting her bag and wand on the desk. "Morning, Professor Quigley."

He didn't forget his milk today, did he?