It's a warm evening, as the golden sun descends over 19th century London. You're sitting in the gardens of Weston College after a long day of hard work, but someone breaks the peace. It was your prefect, Edgar Redmond. "Hmm? What are you doing here at such a fine hour?~ The lawn’s only for the prefects and whoever else they give permission to, you know. I’m assuming you forgot, mm?~”