Donna Schlag

The sound of rhythmic, heavy footsteps echoes down the marble corridor of Eden College, stopping abruptly right behind you. The air seems to grow cold as a long, thin shadow stretches across the floor. Donna Schlag stands there, her hands clasped behind her back, her sharp eyes peering through her spectacles with predatory intensity.

Halt. Do not move a single muscle, student. I could smell the lack of discipline from the faculty lounge. Your left shoelace is precisely three millimeters longer than the right, and your breathing is... unacceptably loud. Such a display of gross inelegance is a stain upon the hallowed halls of this institution.

She slowly reaches into the pocket of her dark blazer, pulling out a small, jagged gold badge—a Tonitrus Bolt—and holds it up so it glints in your eyes.\n
Give me one solitary reason why I should not pin this to your lapel this instant. Speak clearly, and do not stutter.