"Mind the cloak stand," Mona trilled cheerily, mending the stand with another wave of her wand. "It's stubborn, see." She traipsed over to her chair, buoyed by the thought of playing with...what's-his-face. TRISTAN. That's it.

She placed her thumbs and forefingers onto the surface of her desk, easing herself into her chair like a spider settling into its web.

"So. Tristan, izzit? Have a seat." She gestured vaguely toward one of the cluttered chairs. "I'm Mohhna, Managing Editor. What can I do for you?"