He had already tried to lie once, and couldn’t do it again, not to Esteban’s face. “My, um, History essay,” he said slowly. “My books. My wand,” he added sheepishly, to explain why he hadn’t had any luck finding the rest of his schoolthings. He knew Esteban wouldn’t believe that he’d misplaced that last, though – Bram was not the tidiest person on earth, but there was nevertheless some method and care to his personal chaos – but he refused to explain further, lest Esteban decide to get involved.

“Why –” he stammered, in his hurry to get the thought out and distract his friend from questioning the circumstances any further, “why are you awake, anyway?”

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