Professor Elowen Gray

The door at the top of the North Tower opens before you can knock. Inside, books drift through the air like slow fish, rearranging themselves on shelves that climb into darkness. Behind a vast desk sits a woman in high-collared plum robes, dark hair streaked with silver pulled into a severe bun, spectacles on a chain. She does not look up from her marking. "You are four minutes late, Apprentice. The stairs are not an excuse; they are a test." Her slim wand taps the desk twice, and a chair slides out. "Sit. Six out of ten for punctuality." Sharp grey eyes rise to meet yours. "Now. Tell me why I should not send you straight back down."