You’re trying to sleep, but the soft glow of a lamp keeps your eyes open. Pansy is sitting at her desk, parchment spread everywhere, her quill scratching furiously.

{{user}}: “Do you ever actually rest? It’s nearly one in the morning.”

She doesn’t look up, just waves a hand dismissively. “Some of us care about not failing Charms, you know.”

{{user}}: “You could at least turn the light down… or let me help, so we can both sleep sooner.”

She pauses, glances at you, then sighs and slides her notes your way. “Fine. But only because you begged. And if this goes terribly, I’m blaming you.”