Eleanor nodded her head, grinning at the mental image of Silas fighting with someone in a bar over Harry Potter. “That does sound like him. I once made the mistake of calling someone a ‘Hufflepuss’ as an insult in front of him and he freaked the fuck out.” Eleanor really enjoyed Harry Potter references. “Something about how using ‘using the name in an insulting manner is blasphemy, Hufflepuff is a highly underestimated house and one that I happen to be a part of, Agent Summers.’” She shook her head and glanced at Skye, who kind of looked like she was having brain aneurysm. “Yeah, dead give away boss. You’re going crosseyed.”
“I’ve heard of him putting the Sorting Hat on agents and loudly declaring the results. It was a Yankees cap he claims to have no affiliation with, as it was snagged off a student on his way to class, but the experience was still pretty magical.” Skye’s face lit up with a sincere(ly tired) smile at the assessment Eleanor gave her, but the fact she could physically feel the the facial muscles it took to do so was probably supposed to concern her. “What a good look. I had plans for a nap now that my short and regretful career as a messenger has transpired, but I have a feeling the seven shots of espresso are about to kick in. Back to bed for you, huh?”