"Perhaps, Albus, I will go down to Slytherin - to my room - to wash and rest a little." He shifts his feet uncomfortably. There is so much to think about and he feels awkward standing bewildered in the hallway. The students are adults... not of wizarding families... He doesn't understand. Maybe they are exiles like himself, taken in. Ravenclaw seems to have risen in prominence. A bar, a Head of House, where the other Houses had none, their own laboratory. He tries not to be resentful. But he is glad too that, if he is here in unclear capacity, he would not have to submit to authority of another in his old position.

The quiet dark dungeons, a room with a door. Maybe his books would still be there, his desk. And he must bathe, he reminds himself, at once.

"Should I afterwards make myself known to the Headmistress?"