Noble raised his eyebrows at the sight of Tilda MacFusty, who he hadn't expected. He smiled after a beat. Miss MacFusty looked a bit haggard, something about the stray hair and maybe an expression on her face, and she was, even better, not a resident of his house. "MacFusty," he said, by way of greeting. "No, no — it's good to see you."

She probably needed something, if she was here; the nature of potioneering, or maybe of his life, was that people only came in when they needed something. He hopped off his barstool and took a step back from his cauldron, as if to solidify that she had his full attention.