She’d ended up on her back, facing the cieling and a perfect position to see the amused expression of her sister as she took in the sight before her. “Oh, do shove off,” she snapped with barely any heat in her voice as the flush of embarrassment rose in her cheeks. Slowly sitting up, she saw the results of her antics, and groaned at having to rearrange the scrolls again. And of course, there was Saffy’s wand; lying on the floor as innocently as the day she’d gotten it, as if it wasn’t the root of her troubles (never mind the fact that she’d been the one to put it at the bottom of her bag in the first place.)

“I am, but my pride isn’t,” She replied from her position on the floor. She snatched up her wand, the traitorous thing, and waved it to assemble all the contents of her bag. And once that was complete, she began the task of actually standing up. But not before noticing how awful her sister looked. As if she’d just woken up from a nap. Saffy narrowed her eyes. “You’re planning on working through the night again, aren’t you?”

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