Merope worked nervously beneath the male until the books lifted off the ground and floated back into their position. Unlike most magical folks, Merope believed her squib-tendencies so strong that she rarely used her wand at all, not ever in public. When they were away from her, her palms pressed against the ground and she stood up to her full height of five foot two inches and leaned against the nearby book shelf. "S-s-sorry, I'll try better next time, I promise." Merope pleaded, fearful of consequences to her actions other than a tender pat on the wrist in comparison to a full-blown slap or punch.
She wasn't very much of a woman at all, too thin, seemingly devoid of what could be considered real vivid life and frowning. While she in dismay, the dull tone and lull of Severus' voice brought her down from a speedy, near cardiac arrest to what would be considered normal for her.