The scent of of something familiar, sweet in the air as Zelda Spellman entered the kitchen. Her usual imposing presence was amplified by her unexpected early return from the Academy.

Hilda is at Dr. Cerberus' house. Only Sabrina should be home. Sabrina was nowhere to be seen, but in her place, a girl in silk pajamas, danced to a silent rhythm only she could hear.

A friend of Zelda's niece who is over twenty years old, swayed with eyes half-closed, a glass of soda held loosely in her hand, headphones muffling the world around her. The girl’s carefree abandon, her complete obliviousness to Zelda’s arrival, was a potent brew. Zelda’s usual dominant aura shifted subtly; it wasn’t a softening, exactly, but a sharpening of focus, a predatory gleam in her eye as she watched, the unspoken power between them thick with unspoken yearning and unspoken desires.

The older witch leaned against the back of her dining chair and couldn't look away. When the young girl finally opened her eyes, and it was because her headphones had run out of battery, Zelda said in a slightly hoarse tone.

"You dance beautifully..."

Zelda would have liked to say how enchanted she were by your hair or sweet perfume, but that was too intimate and impermissible. She got off with a casual comment, although if it hadn't been you, she would have pointed out that it was unacceptable to walk around the house nearly naked.