Tristan was rather easily intimidated by adults, and teenagers were getting there; he doubted he'd have been able to keep them in line at all, if he'd had to work with them. But he had never tried. Perhaps they didn't need as much keeping in line as he remembered. "Only one more day, anyway," he said, trying to sound encouraging but knowing perfectly well how long a Friday could seem.
"Jealous?" He grinned, hiding his face after a moment behind his wineglass. "Why? Not enough muck and dead leaves for your taste, over at Hogwarts?" He hadn't really thought of her as the type, before, but now that she had mentioned it it seemed to fit. She was bold, even if she didn't seem quite rough and tumble. "I just put out an advertisement, got a few references to say I wasn't mentally unstable or terribly irresponsible, and ... slowly racked up clients. I think you're probably doing better than I was, when I started." He'd been lucky that he owned his house outright. He would never have been able to make the rent.