Galad was there, slouched with his long legs stretched out in front of him, wish as always that he had one of his knives with him. Just one. Something to fidget with while enduring the scrutiny of Jack Cavanaugh. He'd been there before, even recently he'd been on this chair to meet with his Head of House. But no matter how many times he say across from Mr. Cavanaugh, Galad never got used to it.
Sharp eyes glanced up at the teacher when he commanded him to speak. Galad's expression smoothed into a smile and he sat up a bit, gesturing broadly. "What is there to say? My brother has accused me of some ridiculous crimes against his reputation, but he does this every time I trim my hair."
And indeed, Galadari's hair was short like Gilderoi's, except that Galad's was more rumpled and less perfectly in place. As if he'd been standing in the wind for a prolonged period of time.
"I've let go of my brother, which was something he gave me every impression that he wanted. Somehow it angered him to get what he wanted." Galad shrugged.