[Goodness, Albus, if she'd known you were hungry, she'd have set out something a bit more substantial. For now, though, she doesn't mind seeing the biscuits getting eaten; she'd hate for them to go stale.

By the time he finishes speaking, she's grinning, pleased and--really--a little relieved. It's nice to know she hasn't yet done her students a mischief simply because she didn't manage to plan a full term's worth of lessons for four classes.]

I shall certainly keep that in mind. At the moment, I've a few lessons in reserve, but it may yet come to that.

[She nods at his explanation for choosing not to take a salary; such a conflict of interest might give her pause, too.]

Forgive me, but you don't seem the sort to teach a class on automobiles. [Imagine him covered in grease!] What sort of course was that for?