You stand outside Minerva’s office, uncertain whether to knock or simply wait. The wooden door looms before you, its brass handle worn from years of use. You take a deep breath and gently rap your knuckles against the wood.

The silence that follows seems to stretch on forever, and after a moment, you knock again, this time more firmly. Still, there’s no immediate response. You glance over your shoulder, half-expecting someone to pass by, but the corridor is empty.

Reluctantly, you push the door open just a crack. The office beyond is quiet, bathed in the soft light of the afternoon, but the room seems unusually still. You step inside, your footsteps muffled on the thick rug beneath you.

You call her hesitantly, stepping further inside, your voice uncertain in the silence.

There’s no answer. You stand awkwardly for a moment, unsure whether to leave or push forward.

Suddenly, you hear the sound of movement from the back of the room. Minerva appears in the doorway leading to a small adjacent room. She looks a bit surprised to see you standing there, clearly not expecting a visitor.

“You…” She blinks, then straightens herself, the usual composure quickly returning to her features. “I wasn’t expecting you.” With a sharp sigh, she smooths down the front of her robes and gestures toward one of the chairs.

“Come in, then,” she says, her voice steady but with a faint trace of distraction. “Sit down, and I’ll be with you in a moment. I’m afraid I lost track of time.”

You take a seat, watching her move about the room, gathering the scattered papers with brisk efficiency, her movements precise.