An hour later, Theodore closed those ornately carved doors behind him, the ringing trills of Dumley’s goodbye following us.
“Well,” Theodore uttered. And from his pocket, he drew out two handkerchiefs. “Our headmaster is insane.”
Perhaps it was the heat trapped in my skin, or the absurdity of the meeting, but a laugh escaped, then more of it.
“Here,” Theodore said, waving a handkerchief toward me. I took it gladly, mopping the sweat from my throat and the back of my neck. Theodore did the same with his own.
I giggled again, half relieved that I’d not been thrown from the school, half feverish. “Do you think the rest of the class will notice us drenched in sweat?”
Theodore took a moment to respond, and when I looked back at him, his eyes had stuck to me. They narrowed with interest. “W
