Frank was just getting into the nitty-gritty of his book list--hoping to hell that Ingleworth's Indices of Combined Effect were still around, because nothing else was half as comprehensive on the subject--when he got the unmistakable sense that someone was watching him and was less than pleased. He sighed and glanced up to see Victoria Asher giving him a lemon-sucker of a face from over nearer the Restricted Section. He'd seen her for a minute at the vigil, but, dangerous goings-on being what they had, he hadn't made an introduction.
...No doubt that would count against him. If he remembered anything about Victoria, it was that she'd always been traditional in every sense of the word he could think of. And just his luck he was out and about without a robe, since school wasn't in session. Bloody robes. Well, nothing for it--and unfavorable circumstances or not, no one ever had cause to complain about Frank's manners when it mattered, and that wasn't about to change now. His aunts would disown him, and he'd never be able to live with himself besides.
He stood and straightened his papers, and stepped around the table, head inclined politely and hoping he looked appropriately friendly, if not dressed to Pureblood standard.
"Good afternoon--It's Professor Asher now, I presume?"