After so many years at Hogwarts, most of the castle began to look alike, no matter what part she found herself in; the hallways, the staircases and the portraits (goodness, the portraits!) all blended together, and as Juniper glidedwalked down the hallway toward Professor Foxwood’s office, she couldn’t help but note how similar the corridor was to the dungeon where she currently resided. She would never complain about going down than up. (First year flying lessons were still a sore subject, and June would never sit on another broom in her life if she could help it.)

The hallway was absent of noise as she drew to a stop in front of the office, blinking at the open door; Professor Foxwood hadn’t been her first choice to ask, but she’d been shot down once this week, and well, she was hoping that he’d be easier to convince. At least he heard his students out and wouldn’t outwardly call her out on the fabrications of her story. Perhaps she should have concocted something with Poppy first, but that was too little, too late. June sucked in a minuscule, sharp breath and stepped forwarding to gently knock against the door.

She had a better shot if she used some of the manners her governess had imposed upon her.

Not bothering to gaze around the room, the Slytherin straightened her back as she fully stepped into the office. If she looked as confident as she felt, there was no way he could turn her down. Then, without missing another beat, “Professor Foxwood, I would like to request access to the restricted section.”  She didn’t blink.

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