Millie's giggles faded out, though not before a renewed sense of amusement at Sisse's repeated attempts to still the teacups. It seemed that her overeager charmwork had really been the better approach after all. Whoever had given their charmed teacups their legs had certainly made the spell quite brittle, and Millie felt a brief pang of regret for the broken china once her amusement faded.

She waved her wand over another teacup nearby, gentler this time, and froze it nearly solid. The cup's little legs, sluggish and wobbling, prompted it to sit its big, tea-filled head back on the desk. A short grin of satisfaction grew on the young witch's face, offering calming words to the chilly teacup, "Just take it easy now, alright? We'll have you back to normal in no time."

What kind of teacup would want to bother with the nonsense of legs, after all?

Millie supposed it might make teatime a little easier, though the spell needed some serious improvements. One couldn't simply charm a room full of teacups to start dancing spontaneously without some warning, or imparting some grace to their routines. She was hardly one to cry over spilt tea, but when it was this much tea how could anyone really avoid it? Quickly, Millie leaned over to a fellow student's desk and froze most of another teacup until it sat back down again.

"It does seem to work," the young witch agreed with her older mentor, the threat of tears frozen in the wake of her success. She was glad Sisse was there that evening, Millie didn't know what she would have done if she was alone tonight. For that matter...

"Say, where have all the matrons gone?"

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