Roger trotted up the stairs and into his room before he could chance seeing anyone. There were two owls waiting on his window sill, both held distinctively decorated parchments. He grabbed the last of his owl treats and fed them. The haughty eagle owl from Coq d'Or sniffed and bobbed until he came up with a knut tip.
He turned to sit at his desk and noticed a third note on the floor by his door. It was from Ken. He couldn't remember if they'd told Ken about the Quidditch match or not. If it was a quick game, they'd stop by.
"Yes!" he yelled. The Coq d'Or had a table for two at 7:15. And the Wizard's Regency on the Thames had his name down for the Princess Suite on the 4th floor.
He ran over to his dresser and fished out his sgian dubh then faced the metal figure of Brigid. He lit a magical fire in the tiny brazier, then used the knife to poke a small cut in his thumb and let a drop of blood drip into the flame. "Thank you," he said humbly. 12 hours ago he had no money and not much hope. Now he had everything he needed and much much more. Brigid would always take care of him. And he would always serve Her.
The blood burned quickly and the flame went out, suddenly Roger was empty. Drained. Gods, Ynez ... what a woman. She'd worn him out. He smiled and decided a shower could wait till morning.