Wednesday, around 4:00


Aileen’s classes were over for the day and she sat at her desk, thinking longingly of going home and putting her feet up for a few hours. However, she had an appointment to keep with one of her students, Neely Woolfolk. She couldn’t help but be amused by her frequent attempts to charm her before and after class. Some called it brownnosing, but Aileen preferred that behavior to someone who was disruptive or rude.

She’d have to be careful to keep Neely focused on studying this afternoon, rather than let her chatter about shoes, the dance, or any number of girly topics. The student wasn’t fantastic at Runes, but she wasn’t awful either, so Aileen didn’t mind setting aside time to help her, especially since she’d taken the initiative and asked for it. It had to be better than her tutoring sessions with Figaro. Aileen frowned. Merlin, she hoped so.

She’d straightened up her office and put the stacks of papers into neat piles, and she’d moved one of the student desks from the classroom in front of her desk so Neely would have a space to work. A fresh pot of tea sat on the shelf behind her in case Neely wanted some, though Aileen suspected she’d come bustling in with her own refreshments like she’d mentioned.

That letter- everything from the pink color, the handwriting, and the xoxo at the end screamed teenage girl. A knock sounded on the door and she looked up with a slight smile, “Come in.”

The red lipstick at the bottom of her trunk was making its premiere this evening. Er, afternoon. And no, it wasn’t for a date in Hogsmeade. Neely had a study session with the chicest woman in Hogwarts: Professor Aileen Reid, Runes genius, and, for all intensive purposes, a woman whose decision to teach Neely’s drab classmates, the little Slytherin could not comprehend. She was far too evolved for their tastes. But then perhaps that was exactly why: Hogwarts needed a dash of glamour and sophistication.

And finally a professor who got Neely. Not that she had much trouble, but some of them didn’t appreciate fine melodrama and holiday gifts for what they were. Some of them didn’t like the compliments (Bombay) or find the tears endearing (Mainwaring).

Naively underestimating the professor’s reading of her-- and not because she thought Professor Reid to be the least bit dense, but simply because the woman seemed to like her-- Neely had prepared a gourmet basket of goodies for their ‘study session’. Which, if Neely’s plan unfolded the way she hoped, would end up more of an oh-so-adult-like tea party.

The social butterfly fluttered up to the Runes room without a hitch, the basket floating in front of her to spare her new shoes. A brief, efficient knock, knock-- very mature-- was enough for an invitation. Beaming in a way that betrayed her fifteen-year-old self (as if the broad, Koala-kid face didn’t do the trick), she levitated the basket into the pristine office and let it land gently on the edge of the woman’s desk.

“Hello!” She chirped, sitting down across from the woman, crossing her own legs. She opened the basket excitedly. “How was your day, Professor? I really appreciate you meeting with me-- it’s so hard to find a good tutor these days.” A prissy roll of her eyes preceded the unveiling of a lace-lined table cloth: the thin sort used to support candles and centerpieces. She unfolded it carefully, and topped it with a pair of hand-painted china cups with elegant feline faces moving subtly against their glassware; a teapot of her own, candy-floss colored with silver-lined clouds floating by-- it was filled with steaming cocoa; a thermos of espresso; a closed wine vase of mint water, with two crystal goblets; a tiny silver jar of fresh cream, whipped into a perfect design, with a dainty spoon to accompany it; small plates for the china; a larger plate for the pot; perfectly sized plates for feminine snacks; butter knives and polished forks; and finally, a fat belljar covering a silver platter of girly biscuits (macaroons, ladyfingers, cream puffs, truffles, bonbons in varying pastel colors, baby cannoli, bite-sized strawberry tart covered with crème fraiche mascarpone, miniature chocolate croissants, almond biscotti, and raspberry rugelach). Beneath it all were a few fashion magazines with glimpses of the impending winter wardrobes, and, deeper still, in the very most hidden trenches of the basket, were Neely’s notes and Arithmancy books.

“Just a few snacks,” she said with a wink, as if this were the appetizer to Runes coursework. “I thought you might like some sugar before you dive into grading all of those papers. It’s probably a drag, isn’t it?” She asked sympathetically. “Not that you don’t love your job! I mean, you and Professor Frasier seem utterly passionate.” Hint, hint...

But then!

"Oh my golly, I forgot the ice and straws!" Small fingers splaying on bunched cheeks, Neely looked the portrait of horror.

Neely made her entrance, levitating the basket to Aileen’s desk and flouncing into the room with a wide grin. The student looked like she was ready for a picnic date, not a tutoring session. This was Aileen’s first clue that Neely was expecting to gossip more than study.

“Hello,” she replied with less exuberance and a quirk of one eyebrow. “I imagine the other professors would love to hear that,” she commented on the lack of good tutors with an amused smirk.

When Neely opened up the basket and began pulling out plates, goblets, thermos, and everything under the sun, Aileen thought, for some foolish reason, that Neely would stop with the teapot. Or the butter knives. Surely the little pastries and biscuits. But no – Neely plucked out more and more treats and dainty utensils from the bottomless pit of the basket, making Aileen’s teapot sitting on the shelf behind her seem positively bland and humble. Aileen could only blink as her entire desk was overrun with Neely’s portable tea party. What had she gotten herself into? Why in the world had she told her she could bring refreshments?

Aileen closed her mouth, which was slightly ajar, and opened it again to inform her that this was not what she’d meant. “Miss Woolfolk,” she said gently, only for Neely to interrupt with her claims of ‘just a few snacks’. Mmhmm, sure. Just a few snacks that would feed an entire boy’s dorm for a week.

Her eyes widened quite comically at the mention of Professor Frasier. Not the students, too! Merlin, she was going to murder Bombay in the most painful way possible. Lock him in the greenhouse with the strangling vines he loved so much.

The student exclaimed about ice and straws and Aileen took the moment to speak while she still had a chance.

“Miss Woolfolk,” she repeated more firmly, mouth twitching to hold in laughter. “Priorities- you remembered your books and supplies, I hope?” She gestured towards the basket and raised her eyebrows, waiting for evidence.

Aileen looked again at the display in front of her, put a hand to her head, and started laughing silently, shoulders shaking with suppressed giggles. After a moment she composed herself and glanced at the girl. Did Neely have to look so hopeful?

“Five minutes,” Aileen announced, ignoring the feeling that she’d never get control of the situation now. She poured herself a cup of tea with a resigned air. “Five minutes of your… refreshments.” Refreshments that rivaled a Great Hall feast. “And then we clear off the desk and focus solely on Runes, understand?”

It was the mark of a teacher that she’d announced how many minutes they’d spend on chitchat. Aileen could scarcely believe she was allowing even this much leeway. If any other student had tried it she would have been less amused. If a male student had gone to this effort, she would have thought she had some kind of stalker. However, neither was the case, and she had a soft spot for Neely Woolfolk, the baby-faced fifth-year.

They’d love to hear? Neely brightened up further still, if it were possible. There was almost a glowing aura around the fifth year. She was sure she had her five-inch shoes through the metaphorical door by now-- and, hey, look at that! The real door had been hers for the opening, too! Professor Reid apparently wanted to be friends.

“Oh, of course, Professor, I wouldn’t dream of forget--” Neely’s mouth swished to the side. She blinked and appraised the woman, who was in a private seizure of laughter. Had she done something wrong? Neely felt a burn come into the broad apples of her baby cheeks. She tried to straighten up in her seat, shoulders back, neck swanlike, just like Mummy had taught her. She’d even done her hair in pinned back loose curls! She looked very adult-like. She could only imagine the woman in front of her was having a... youthful moment.

A sigh escaped the fifth year, and her posture relaxed a smidgen. Her pursed, unsure mouth melting into another delighted grin, she nodded animatedly. “Five minutes. Absolutely.” A lunching lady was supposed to bask in the time, enjoy every last morsel in bird-sized nibbles, between sips of wine. But this was teatime, and the Professor’s busy schedule was racing the clock. Neely figured five minutes of personal chatter with the woman was more endearing than anything Aileen Reid had offered Figaro Sellaphix in all of his years at Hogwarts, and all of his years to come. Combined.

And it served him right, the violent, rock-tossing oaf of a badger!

Pouring hot cocoa as the professor poured herself tea, Neely kept her hands steady and her fingers dainty. She used the baby spoon to put a dab of cream on her plate, and added a few biscuits to the other side. Looking up from the complimentary colors, she blindly tapped her teacup with her wand, whispering a Cooling Charm in such a tiny voice and with such unmoving lips that she hoped to convince the woman she’d already learned how to do charms without speaking. Impressive, Cornelia! said the adoring Aileen Reid in her head.

“So, Professor,” she began, after taking a ginger sip of the cooled cocoa. “I really want to do well in my OWLs for this class. I love it. I think I’m going to give up Herbology and focus more on Runes-- not that I don’t already! But plants... they’re just not my thing, you know? Totally gorgeous to look at, but I can’t stand having dirt under my nails.” She wrinkled her nose, but realized it probably looked somewhat unbecoming, and passed the time by biting into a Parisian treat.

After dabbing a monogrammed napkin (two of which had also been stuffed into her magic basket) at the corners of her mouth, she danced around the issue of the less pleasant of her classmates. “I just wish our class was smaller,” she sighed. “You must be so overworked. I wish you only had to take on the students who really love the art.” In runic translation: Minus one head from Hufflepuff.

Aileen took a sip of her tea and noticed Neely try her hand at a cooling spell, so quietly and unobtrusively that for a moment she wondered if the girl had taken a page from Sasha and was worried about disturbing her. Whatever it was, any reticence soon disappeared again as Neely piped up, using those five minutes to her full advantage.

She listened politely as the student chattered, confessing that she loved Runes and was thinking about giving up Herbology to focus on it. Now, if it had been another class with a professor she actually respected (and didn’t think about strangling every few minutes), she might have told her to consider pursuing both. But it was Bombay. Bombay. In fact…

“I was never very interested in plants, either,” she admitted in a friendly, conspiratorial tone. “Especially the ones that snapped at my fingers.”

Truth be told, she had a black thumb. But that was beside the point. “I’m of the opinion that it’s better to receive flowers than to take care of them,” she gave her a mischievous smile, assuming that a teenage girl like Neely would relate to that sentiment.

“I’m sorry to say that if you end up doing any field work in Runes, you’ll still suffer from the unpleasant dirt-under-the-nails syndrome. There are charms that help with that, though,” she raised her eyebrows and studied the girl’s face, uncertain if Neely had a true interest in the subject or if she was simply trying to get on her good side. Aileen wouldn’t question it, for now. She’d do what she could to tutor her and see what Neely decided later.

Aileen laughed lightly when Neely claimed that she must be overworked, having to teach so many students. The job wasn’t a walk in the park, but she wasn’t half as busy as the professors with the core classes. The ones who had to teach the first and second years, Merlin help them. She’d heard stories (and had a good laugh about the greenhouse being set on fire). Aileen was definitely grateful that Runes was an elective.

“If I had too few students, I’d be out of a job,” she reminded her, still amused by her behavior. “The majority of students, I’m sure, take the class because they find it mildly interesting. Or, they consider Runes to be a better option than some of the others.” Herbology. “And that’s alright. There will always be a few who love it, like you said, and some who grow to enjoy it more than they thought they would because they gave it a chance.”

For Aileen, she’d never expected to become a Runes scholar when she’d taken the class at Hogwarts. She certainly had a talent for it, along with Arithmancy and History of Magic, but it was only a few years after graduation when she’d looked back and given Runes serious thought. Sometimes life happened in strange ways.

“I am glad you enjoy the class,” Aileen told her kindly. “It’s a shame that not every student is as polite and friendly as you are,” she raised her eyebrows in a look that said she knew exactly who Neely wished would drop out (or be kicked out permanently). At times, Aileen wished it too, though she hadn’t quite given up on Figaro yet. This was probably because she hated admitting when she was wrong, and less because she particularly cared if the boy failed or succeeded anymore.

It was nice to see a professor who had her priorities straight. Society had long forgotten the value of a good manicure. But not Aileen Reid. Neely grinned, admiring the woman’s ten, flawless digits with their perfect sheen of polish. Ah, to be a grown up. Neely grossed her tight-clad legs, sitting up straighter still, and glancing affectionately at her own shoes-- heels fit for a woman.

Giggling, Neely nodded in agreement. “I nearly received the most perfect roses from a friend before Professor Bombay walked in and put his big no-- and gave me detention,” Neely corrected quickly, expanding on the anecdote that had been swimming through her head, combating waves of social decency to reach the shore and blurt out everything. “Aren’t the greenhouses supposed to be open so we can study?” She asked. “We weren’t anywhere near his office, even!”

Trying to calm herself, Neely quickly took a sip of cocoa. She smiled, and quieted. “But I guess I can’t blame him for not understanding... he’s not really young and pretty like you.”

Neely believed the woman, but wondered how much dirt Aileen Reed could possibly encounter from day to day, what with her fabulous appearance. “What sort of charms?” She asked in an oooh kind of voice, clearly intrigued. More so than she was about the actual Runes, if truth be told.

She nodded enthusiastically at the woman’s philosophy, though she was’t quite sure such logic should allow miscreants like Figaro Sellaphix to remain in class. She was sure things would be different if Professor Reid were a less regal woman. But she wasn’t.

The Slytherin positively glowed at the compliment. She couldn’t wait to tell someone. Sasha, maybe. Or Figaro. Definitely Figaro. Though not in so many words, lest she be discovered in act. He was a brute, but he wasn’t quite that stupid. Not that the professor would likely believe his word over Neely’s. Fat chance.

Feeling at liberty to bring the subject back to men-- after all, Neely had just been told she was liked-- the fifth year leaned forward a bit, lowering her voice. “Have you noticed, Professor,” she began delicately, taking her time, and glancing toward the door to ensure privacy. “How Professor Frasier looks at you in the corridors?” Neely didn’t know if it was true, as she often had her head in a magazine, or on the back of Sasha’s head, or pressed toward the ear of Evie or Fergie, whispering about someone else’s more tragic affairs. (And shoes.) But surely anyone could put one and one together...

Aileen was actually relaxing, enjoying herself. Chatting over tea and scones with one of her students probably wasn’t part of her job description, but taking ten minutes out of her day to talk wouldn’t set her back any. She nodded and murmured agreements about how much of hairy gnome Bombay was (not so much in those words), and gave her tips on taking care of her fingernails, and even indulged in one of those pastries Neely had thoughtfully brought over. This wasn’t bad at all, she thought.

Aileen was in the middle of taking a sip of tea, eyebrows raised with faint curiosity, when Neely popped the question. A question involving Frasier that was completely inappropriate! A question that had her cursing Bombay colorfully in her head (which she did daily, but still).

“Have you noticed, Professor,” she began delicately, taking her time, and glancing toward the door to ensure privacy. “How Professor Frasier looks at you in the corridors?”

She choked on her tea and was sent into a coughing fit, covering her mouth with her hand and shaking her head at the girl.

“Miss Woolfolk!” She coughed again, then cleared her throat. Aileen gave her a stern, no-nonsense look, though it was clear she was still a bit flustered. “That is not… number one, that’s not something we should be discussing. Number two, I highly doubt your observations are correct. Professor Frasier and I are acquaintances, colleagues, nothing more. And, number three…”

Aileen paused for a second. What was her number three? Oh, right! “Number three, I think it’s about time we started working on Runes, don’t you?”

She let out a sigh, straightened, and smoothed her hair as if the very mention of office romance had caused it to frizz.

“Unless there’s something absolutely pressing that you need my advice on,” Aileen offered, giving her a very small smile to show she was forgiven. Merlin, if she didn’t know any better, she’d suspect that Myrni and Neely had gotten together to conspire against her and throw single men at her. Not that the idea was so horrible. But her private life was called private for a reason, and gossiping with students about her dating prospects was where she drew the line. A very thick line. A line not to be crossed!

Neely continued to grin, even as the woman appeared to be choking. On liquid. She held out a napkin, innocently avoiding the disapproving expression now taking the spotlight on Aileen Reid’s face. An inquiry without agenda: that’s all it had been.

“Oh, Professor,” she sighed in a swoony voice. “You really should keep your windows open. Muggles have these electric fans. They aren’t like the pretty painted ones Spanish dancers use, but they create a nice draft...” She trailed off, letting the woman make whatever assumptions she pleased. In the span of five short minutes, Neely Woolfolk had surmised that the Runes professor enjoyed her company, and, furthermore, wouldn’t dare punish her for the same trivialities committed by other students. The had a bond, Neely and Aileen.

Still, one couldn’t help but note the hesitancy, the blush blossoming in the fair, graceful cheeks. Neely was more than pleased. Her legs swung victoriously beneath her seat. The advantage of being short was being able to do a jig without anyone knowing it. She was certain she’d hid a plot point, had unveiled the hidden treasure of Hogwarts gossip. And she planned to keep it all to herself. At least until the time was right.

Neely would know all about the nuptials of Isaac and Aileen, long before the lace-trimmed invitations were owled.

The woman had no, after all, denied it with a one-hundred percent ‘you’re false, Cornelia.’

“Runes, of course.” Neely nodded with enthusiasm, as if her little shoulders and neck were on fire, and her head had come unattached, left to bop like a figurine on the dashboard of a muggle automobile. “I can’t wait to get started.”

Ha.

But then the door opened again, just a crack: Neely was staring into the possibilities, the evasion homework in the face of adult chitchat with her intellectual idol. Academia at its finest.

“Well,” she said slowly, bidding her time, treading her toes. One couldn’t plunge into the water. That would create a mess! Neely looked down at her lap. Her hands had found their way there, had clasped themselves in docility. She beat her lashes against the broad apples of her cheeks, emphasizing the infantile quality epidermic edifice.

Finally, she looked up again, raising her baby blues like elfish orbs watching lofty wooden icons from a tiny church pew. “There is something,” she said quietly, her mouth twisting into the demure line of a besotted, Romance era adolescent confined to the birdcage of her bodice and father’s watchful eye. The acting skills were blooming like red dye in a translucent water basin.

Leaning forward, purposely forgetting the mannerisms instilled by years of lessons, Neely pressed her small elbows onto the tabletop, between a thermos of cocoa and a plate of macaroons, and let her confession be coaxed from her as if another Neely were sitting across from her, charming it out of her throat with a wand like a snake-charmer’s flute. “Boys here are so complicated, you know?” She asked shyly. And then, smirking just a touch, “Hormones are a terrible thing!”

Aileen rolled her eyes at Neely's comment about windows and drafts, unable to keep up the polite, professor-type behavior this time. The victorious gleam in Neely's eyes worried her. It was as if she didn't believe her statement that there was absolutely nothing going on between herself and the muggle studies professor! It was as if her feverish teenage brain was already scheming the ways she'd lock the two professors in a room together! It was as if she were already planning the wedding invitations!

If Aileen had only known how right she was about that last assumption, she would have moved straight to Runes. No detours. No stalling. She would have cleared off the table and asked Neely to bring out her supplies so they could get started on the tutoring - the purpose of this visit, after all.

However, Aileen had already made the mistake of asking her if there was anything she could help her with. And Neely's woebegone expression and sudden onset of fidgeting started to seriously worry Aileen. The girl's earlier blunt question forgotten, she leaned forward when Neely did, looking a touch concerned. Was it family troubles? School?

Boys. Boys were the problem. Aileen leaned back again and shot her an amused, exasperated look.

"Yes, hormones are terrible," she murmured dryly, with a shake of her head. Aileen felt relieved that there was nothing truly awful going on, but she couldn't say she was comfortable playing counselor to Neely's boy problems.

"I can't imagine that you would have much trouble in that area, Miss Woolfolk," Aileen said, trying to dismiss the issue delicately. "The boys must be lining up to ask you out!" she teased, hoping a bit of flattery would make Neely agree with her and move on.

If Aileen was tiring of the not-so-subtle hints pertaining to imaginary affairs, Neely chose not to notice. Once on a role, she could be as naive as Sasha and as annoying as Figaro. Not to mention as determined as any Slytherin who had occupied the dungeons in the last thousand years.

Again letting her fingers glaze past the quills, the parchment, the unopened books, Neely reached for another biscuit she didn’t really need, or even want, but felt like holding for the sake of appearances, and perhaps to encourage the pretty professor to keep up their conversation.

Blushing-- mostly a sincere blush-- Neely looked down at her lap and grinned coyly. Finally, she looked up again and met Professor Reid’s eyes. “Well... not exactly,” she admitted, sounding uncharacteristically modest and also slightly confused. “I mean, the ones I like are kind of... oblivious. I think it’s because they spend so much time doing everything to be the perfect boyfriend that they forget why they’re doing all of it,” she hypothesized. “You know, dressing well, playing sports, making good grades, keeping their hair nice.” The important things. “But girls, we’re better at multitasking. We know how to look pretty and realize we’re dating someone.” If that was a confusing point of enlightenment, Neely knew not otherwise.

“So... Runes,” she said at last, holding back a sigh, trying to look as nice and obliging as Professor Reid. She did want to earn those brownie points, after all.

Aileen was surprised by Neely's hesitance and apparent modesty. She raised her eyebrows, listening when the student went on to explain that boys were dense and bad at multitasking. That she understood. Her comment about how girls knew when they were dating someone was less easy to decipher.

Neely mentioned Runes, and Aileen knew she should jump on that opportunity and get started. But Merlin, now she was curious!

"So..." she began to put the facts together, making no move to clear off the table. It was if she hadn't heard Neely's suggestion. "He's athletic, dresses well, and makes good marks. Plus, he has nice hair. Am I understanding this correctly so far?" Aileen smirked, feeling as slow-witted as her mother when it came to youngsters and their romances.

"But he doesn't realize you're dating?" She shook her head. "Now that's dense." Even for a boy. Unless he was purposefully misunderstanding. Or...

Aileen paused, quirked an amused eyebrow at Neely. "You did tell him you were dating, didn't you?"

Neely nodded as Aileen repeated the requisites of the (more or less) Perfect Boyfriend. Sasha indeed had them all, just as she had admitted. But then there was a hitch; Neely decided to draw out, her chatterbox voice becoming burdened and sluggish, weighed down by melodrama. Professor Reid was interested in her personal problems! Where did Neely sign up to be adopted? Just for the semester(s), naturally. Neely did have her own mother to tend to her over the hols. Most of the time.

“Isn’t it?” She asked mournfully. “I mean! He’s so smart in that completely Ravenclaw way, but he had no idea!” She shook her head, huffing her cheeks before letting a girlish sigh. “What were the boys like when you were in school? I mean, it obviously wasn’t that long ago,” she elaborated, glancing over what she could see of Aileen behind the desk. Professor Reid still had a youthful, lovely face, and Neely knew, no matter how mature and clandestine the woman was, she was young in that Cool Adult way.

“Of course!" Not really. "I mean... how would he not know?” She contorted her face in confusion, a frown dancing across pillowy lips, highlighting the weakness of her babyish chin. “We kissed and everything! We made a date after--” Whoops. Telling a professor about a bit of rule breaking was probably not the best idea. Neely through a reel into her brain and came back with answer more appropriate than ‘curfew.’ “After the fall term began. But then all turned rubbish.” She sighed again. “You see, I sort of rescued him from someone else.” Alright, she was imaginary. “And his family is a bit old-fashioned.” In that muggle way. “And what I thought was a date turned out to be... to be...” Her voice wavered with impending doom. “A friends thing.” Ha!

Aileen raised her eyebrows when Neely revealed that the boy was a Ravenclaw, not a Slytherin like she'd assumed. Ravenclaw wasn't a bad choice, but she'd just thought that Neely and Julian St. James had been quite chummy in Runes lately. No matter how much she tried not to pay attention, she'd have to be blind to miss some of the flirting that went on between the fifth-years in her classes.

But perhaps she wasn't as observant as she'd thought. Who was this Ravenclaw?

"Daft and dense, just like they are now," she quipped, amused by Neely's comment that it wasn't so long ago Aileen had been in school. Her students might be surprised to know she'd just turned 34.

As Neely told her the full story (not exactly full - Aileen caught some pauses and hesitations, but frankly, she didn't want to know the details of the teenager's snog session), she nodded a few times, cupping her chin in her hands and still trying to figure out who the mystery boy was. An old-fashioned family? Neely made it sound so Romeo and Juliet.

She surprised herself with the patience she had for the girl's dating problems, and even reached over the desk to pat Neely's hand when her voice wavered. The student reminded her far too much of her younger sister.

"How do you know it was a 'friend's thing'?" Aileen said gently, continuing on before she had a chance to reply. "If you really like this boy, you could ask him on another date. Make it very clear that's what it is, and see what he says," she suggested, taking a sip of her tea.

"If he says no," she paused, looked at her over her teacup. "He's clearly a fool and you deserve better," Aileen set her tea down and gave her a sly, sympathetic smile.

Merlin, all this boy talk made her feel like a seventh-year student again. It was, dare she say it, fun!

Neely looked down at her hands and back up again, locking eyes with Professor, sharing something knowing and silent. So boys had always been like this? It was good to know. Comforting. For no matter how many times Neely’s mother had lectured her in the inferiority of men, it was of great comfort to hear such things from another woman, one pretty and successful and intelligent. One with experience. (Who wasn’t her mother.)

“Is that why you aren’t married?” She asked, and then sucked in a breath, slapping a girly hand over her mouth in melodramatic oops. “Ooooh, golly, I’m sorry, Professor! It’s just, you’re such a catch. But I bet you have very high standards.”

It explained everything.

As her mind again trailed off into Boy Land, readily abandoning the oh-so-brief moment of academia, Neely became increasingly confident. The little blunder was just that-- a blunder. And there weren’t many girls in the castle willing or able to speak about such intimate things with the formidable Ancient Runes lecturer.

She swished her lips to the side pensively, soaking up the woman’s advice. “Well, I... I tried to do... you know, datey things,” she said with a wickedly coy smile. “And he completely shut down. Not that it’s not normal for him, he’s sort of inexperienced. But he definitely thought I was just helping him out of a pinch, and not actually interested.”

Nodding at the advice, Neely racked her brain for ways to right this wrong. For all she knew, it was far more pressing than an O in Ancient Runes. “I do want to ask him again, but I’m supposed to be mad at him. Besides, shouldn’t he ask me?” Wasn’t that the true, tell-tale sign of romantic interest?

“I don’t think there are many boys who are much better than Sasha,” she admitted, revealing his name before she could stop herself. Eyes widening to the size of galleons-- or at least the size of Fauna Blake’s baby blues-- Neely leaned forward. “Oh, golly, you can’t tell anyone. I mean, the professors!” Her peers already knew. “If Professor Bombay found out, I’d die.” D-I-E-.

Aileen's back had stiffened and her grip on the teacup handle tightened slightly when Neely wondered if she wasn't married because of her high standards. Of course, her (impossibly) high standards had a lot to do with it, but there was more to it than that.

She nodded, accepting Neely's apology, and felt very relieved when the conversation moved forward.

Ah, so Sasha was the mysterious boyfriend! Aileen looked faintly surprised, and then pleased. Two of her favorite students were dating. Or trying to date. She had to admit, it was cute.

"I will keep the news to myself," she reassured her, mouth quirking upward. If only Neely knew that most of her professors didn't give two hoots about her dating life. "I certainly wouldn't tell Bombay anything," she let slip, a flicker of disgust crossing her features, before she smoothed it out.

"And you're right. He should ask you," she paused. "But if you say he hasn't dated before, perhaps he's simply... oblivious," she cradled her teacup in her hands again and gave her a sympathetic look.

However, this conversation had taken an awkward turn. Now that she knew exactly who Neely's love interest was, she didn't think it was appropriate to continue offering advice on the matter, especially when he was a student in her class. That was crossing some sort of line, wasn't it?

So she checked her watch and raised her eyebrows with a sigh. "Well, it's been past ten minutes," she said in a low, conspiratorial tone of voice, as if they were indulging in something they shouldn't. Oh, gossip. It was as addictive as the scones Neely had brought.

Aileen waved her wand across the table and carefully wrapped up the treats, stacked the plates, and packed them in the basket.

"Miss Woolfolk, I hope this conversation has been helpful, but we should really get started," she offered the student a smile and tried to put the Sasha-Neely relationship out of her head.