He had not been expecting the other young man to refuse his schemes, exactly, but he was pleased all the same when he didn’t hear a whiff of protest. “Oh, I was much worse at school,” Tybalt said in impish jest, but he slowed down for a pace to properly introduce himself. It was true enough: most of the time these days all he felt was young and useless and out of his depth.
“Tybalt Kirke, by the by,” he said brightly, coming to a halt just before they broke into view of the hall of staircases, seven floors of them. “And - if you don’t mind me asking - what brings you to Britain, Mr. Beauxbatons?”
“Tybalt Kirke, by the by,” he said brightly, coming to a halt just before they broke into view of the hall of staircases, seven floors of them. “And - if you don’t mind me asking - what brings you to Britain, Mr. Beauxbatons?”
