He jumped visibly at the voice and the cold, creepy touch of the animated plant, fumbling in his pocket for his wand.
"Gah--" Oh. It was his dinner companion from the week before.
"--AAAAH!" Terence turned the startled yelp into a full-on bellow right into her face.
"Davis. Been to the salon, I see," he said after a breath, laughter destroying any attempt at a deadpan delivery.
His heart was still racing. Six years ago Miss Davis might well have found her ears hexed off for her little joke. Thank Merlin he was out of practice. The Hitwizards, Terence suspected, would not have been amused.