The tall, well-built, and very, very naked blonde in the sorting room could have come out of any number of porn fantasies. She radiated an aura of sensuality and allure, and at the moment her only piece of clothing was a pair of antique, ornate-looking spectacles
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A turned positively green.
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But the fact that she had caused this poor boy actual, real distress upset her.
Se wrung her hands and stared at A for a moment, eyes wide and stricken. "I'm sorry that I upset you," she managed to get out, resisting the urge to start pacing.
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Homunculi didn't count.
For an awkward moment he merely stared at Amaranth.
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With an effort Lezard managed a semblance of his usual confident composure.
"Actually," he said, "it really is a wand." And he took it out to show her. "Behold, the Wand of Apocalypse."
It was an impressive artifact. It was also a real and literal magic wand. Not, you know, a part of the male anatomy.
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He votes squib and goes to leave, not wanting to talk to Amaranth.
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"WENCH, YOU HAVE LOST YOUR TUNIC!" he informed her helpfully.
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