January 4th, 1890 — Headquarters of the London Society for the Practice of Combative Magic
What in the name of Merlin's scraggly old beard had he done to warrant being allocated student duels? Not that he particularly wanted to oversee any duels, but the student duels seemed beneath his dignity. Nevertheless there he was and it probably wouldn't look good after his fresh promotion to be whining about dueling tournaments.
He eyed the two children before him intently, hoping to make them uneasy. "Miss..." He cleared his throat and discreetly slipped a scrap of parchment from his sleeve that would only be noticeable from the way he was staring curiously at his wrist. "Farley. You may begin." He'd already made sure they knew the rules so they had no excuse for silly nonsense.
He eyed the two children before him intently, hoping to make them uneasy. "Miss..." He cleared his throat and discreetly slipped a scrap of parchment from his sleeve that would only be noticeable from the way he was staring curiously at his wrist. "Farley. You may begin." He'd already made sure they knew the rules so they had no excuse for silly nonsense.
@"Jemima Farley" Thomas Montgomery
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