"Hurry! It's time for practice!" a voice called—sharp, urgent.
I blinked up at the ceiling, wincing against the assault of morning light. My limbs felt like they were made of stone, sleep still curled around my bones. As I rubbed my eyes, a familiar blur sharpened—Doverel, looking far too chipper for this hour.
"Come on, grab your wand! We're going to be late!" she chirped, halfway out the door already.
"I'm not ready…" I muttered, still tangled in the haze of dreams and too many centuries gone.
It was the first time I had a bed in centuries.
"Just tell them I am unwell or something." I groaned while placing a soft pillow over my face.
"It's only us now… everyone has left. We are going to be late." Doverel stammered. Then I felt her grin. "Yes, that's right, it is only us" I heard her reading each syllable slowly.
"And you are the last person that would judge me on this." I heard her excited but muffled voice.
I pushed the pillow aside and slowly sat up.
