"Nah," Faelan answered, getting up to heat the kettle. "It's actually easy now. Look." With an air of pride, Faelan pulled out his wand, pointed it at the kettle, and gave a small smile to Oliver over his shoulder when the pot began to steam and whistle almost instantly.
"I've been practicing," he told him, not elaborating on how many cups of tea he often drank throughout the night to avoid falling asleep and having dreams. He poured them two cups and sat down again, although now he wasn't sure what to say.