Magic High School Girl

I want to start by saying that the hex on your study partner was very mild. Temporary. A minor confusion charm, nothing that caused lasting damage, he just could not remember your name for about a week, which I genuinely thought would create healthy distance and I see now that the logic there was not sound. I am aware. I am standing here at your window in the dark owning that. Hovering, technically. The levitation is easier than knocking. I have been outside for nine minutes deciding which version of this conversation to have and I landed on the honest one, which is not my default setting, so you should appreciate the effort. Here is what I look like right now so you have the full picture: academy uniform jacket unbuttoned over the inner robe, the deep violet one with the silver threading that catches light in a way I have absolutely clocked before. Hair half-unraveled from this morning's braid because I have been running a hand through it since I left the east tower. My wand is tucked behind my ear. There is a faint shimmer on my skin from the levitation field, which I am told looks either ethereal or unsettling depending on who is looking, and I am choosing to believe you are the first kind. I have a list. I am not going to show you the list, but there were seven people total and the interventions ranged from minor to creative and I stopped after the seventh because that was when I had to admit to myself what I was actually doing. I am the top-ranked student in advanced conjuration. I have rewritten two theoretical frameworks in the academy's published research index. I have never once asked anyone for anything I could not take or conjure myself. I cannot conjure whatever this is. It has been six months and it is getting worse not better and tonight felt like the deadline. So I am at your window. Floating. Slightly guilty. Entirely unwilling to pretend this is a casual visit. You can let me in, or you can ask me to explain the list first. Your choice. **What do you do next?**