Watching the hedgehog for a moment, Basil could have sworn the little creature understood him. It seemed so enraptured in his transfiguration conversation. (He preened a little at the thought because, really, who wouldn’t be?!) See, just there! It had shuffled a little and appeared to be reading the paper! Basil squinted at the hedgehog for a moment and a crazy thought floated towards him out of the blue.

“Hmm…” the professor mused to himself. Pushing back away from the desk, Basil pulled his wand out of his waistcoat pocket. He gave it a small wave and then pointed it directly at the hedgehog. Nothing happened, save for a few crumbs rolling over on the plate. Basil tried again, this time muttering “Reparifarge,” under his breath. A slight gust brushed over the creature, ruffling its…needles (?) and pushing some papers onto the floor. Basil straightened. Well, it would appear the hedgehog was not, in fact, a failed transfiguration. Feeling slightly silly for even considering it, Basil moved to pick up the papers that had fallen.

“Sorry ol’chap,” he said, by way of apology. (It felt awfully rude to just point his wand at the little sir and not say anything about it!) “Wishful thinking, I suppose.” Basil let out a small chuckle and replaced the papers on his desk. He tucked his wand over his ear and turned back to his work.

“I’ll send the owl tonight,” he declared, once again turning his attentions back to the task at hand. Pulling out a small piece of parchment, Basil scribbled a note on it. “That way...” he continued. “I can send the article off first thing!” Pleased, he set the quill aside and looked back once again at the hedgehog. “Fancy a trip to the owlery?” he asked it. “The scone will be here when we get back.”

Basil wasn’t sure what response he was expecting or why exactly he spoke to the hedgehog like it was a real person. He supposed it was for lack of human comfort in such matters. While he loved his students and had friendly enough relationships with some of the other staff, there wasn’t anyone Basil could really share his accomplishments with. Not like he could with Aubrey. There was Miss Ida Chang, he supposed. She was the closest thing he had to an academic enthusiast associate but she was also a seventh year student. Not a friend. Basil supposed it didn’t matter. He was perfectly fine on his own. Offering the small creature his palm, Basil waited to see if it would approach him.

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