Main Office

The desk was enormous; as if in some way it sought to dwarf her already slight frame into submission. When it had first become hers, she had gently run her hand across every centimetre of it's wood, knowing that so many powerful Heads had used it before her. Now, day after day, it was simply used for her piles of correspondence and her elbow for propping up her weary head.
She was currently listening to the monotone hum of a letter from the ministry; with more emphasis on 'hum' and less on 'listening'. A firm believer in comfort, she had transfigured her high backed chair into a cosy padded one. Her feet were propped up on a stool and her head had passed the hand and now rested on the desk.
Her house elf had brought nine cups of strong tea through the night and morning, all of which had been emptied and then sent back for a refill. And all of which had helped very little to wake her up. She had not gone to bed last night; having had too much work to catch up on. And now, despite the work that had been accomplished, she felt childish. Any moment, she half expected her old herbology professor to walk in and ask why she hadn't gone to bed. That line of thought was proof enough that she was in dire need of sleep, since her old professor had been dead for twelve years.
"Pause." she murmured, grateful to have the letter immediately obey her. Bathilde rose and went to the window. It was a full wall length opening that she rarely closed; enjoying the breeze that washed through it. Wrapping her arms around herself, she closed her eyes. She often did that, to imitate the action of surrounding herself with darkness.
"Whenever I see you standing like that, Mistress. I believe you are contemplating harming yourself." The large enchanted mirror, Muncel, against the wall murmured. It had belonged to most of the Heads before her and she had kept it for tradition sake. Mostly it did nothing but attempt to anger her. "Although with the hideous attire you drape over yourself, I'm hardly surprised that suicide would-"
Bathilde interrupted.
"Silence would be preferred."
Muncel grumbled, but obeyed. At least for five full seconds.
"Honestly, Mistress. Yellow does nothing for you."
She aimed a silencing hex behind her and hoped for the best.

Aerilyn walked up to the head of the schools office, it was her first meeting with her boss that school year, To give a update on how well the school held together.

She looked at her appearence, weather the head of the school could "see" her or not it was habbit to at least try... Well she tried.. her ands were blistered from scrubing and a spell had blown up in her face that morning and left her face blackened.

"I look terrible" she said with a sigh as she went up to the Headmistress's door and tried ajusting her bag that had afew paper and students ""illegal items" in it whitch included a bottle a firewhiskey of all things.

Nervously she knocked on the door, always nevous around authority figures.. her boss bing a big one inher book being the head of one of the most prestigous schools in the UK.

"Headmistress?" she asked timidly through the Door.

Bathilde cancelled the spell, glad she had heard the uncertain voice in time.
"Oh, I apologize, Miss Solaris." she turned to the door and motioned the young caretaker in. "May I help you?"
"One would hope as much, since the mouse doesn't creep up unless for a reason, Mistress." Muncel muttered, rudely.
The headmistress cast another silencing hex... this one effective as the mirror when quiet. It was a known fact through out the school that Muncel had no manners concerning anyone or thing.

Aerilyn shook her head at the headmistress's apology, "No apology need Headmistress... Just... just here for the start of term update" she said meekly.

Aerilyn blushed the same colour as her red hair, trying to ignore the word of there mirror but was thankful when the headmistress slienced it

"Thank you Headmistress" she muttered fiddling with her bag.

"My pleasure. Won't you sit?" Bathilde offered, hoping to put the younger woman at ease. It didn't matter how long she'd been headmistress; she still hadn't become used to people being nervous around her. But then again, it may have simply been the caretaker, as some were naturally leant toward shyness.
Smiling, she conjured a tea set and filled both cups with Darjeeling. "Do you like tea?" she asked softy, making sure the sugar and cream bowls were within easy reach of the other woman. There were sugar biscuits in the tin by her letter opener, but she decided against offering those. It wouldn't do to go overload with the treats... she didn't want to frighten the caretaker away as she had a professor the year before.