There was less laughter in the castle of late, Professor Duerr thought. Students passed with furrowed brows, bulging book bags and growing frowns. Her own arithmancy students were very dedicated, but she found more evenings spent with them as they pulled their hair and revised for their OWLs and NEWTs.

Sunday evenings could be a lonely time at best, especially if one mourned the loss of a weekend and the arrival of an early start for lessons. Of late, Professor Duerr’s classroom on the Sixth floor had become a little solace for banishing Sunday blues. The door was propped open, and upbeat music drifted down the tower steps from the wireless set. The long table which students sat around in lessons was littered with brightly coloured paper. Folded paper cranes fluttered and colourful origami parrots chattered above the heads of students.

“And there… we…. have it!” Professor Duerr made a final fold in an intricate dragon, the size of a kitten, and placed it on its feet. She reached for her almond wand, and grinned to the students around her with delicious mischief, “Shall we make it breathe fire?”