[ Taking up his own drink, Lucius listens with bland interest, eyes hooded and attention directed down the length of his nose. His mouth twitches in the beginnings of something that never fully forms into a smirk of his own.

Too unsettled to do anything but conceal that he is unsettled. ]

I know your name. Of you in person, I could hardly guess.

[ A measured sip of wine goes here. ]

If you know of magic, then you know of your place with regards to it. There is no separation between a wizard and his magic, wands handed to us at age eleven, and thus, I appreciate that you will restore to me what is rightfully mine. I am not a child, after all. But I will be quite clear: I will not brook using it as leverage, and I would have 'best behaviour' clearly defined before I agree to it.

And I certainly do not wish to take up an occupation to earn it.