"No, there isn't." He smiles weakly. "Coincidence is just a word for when we're made uncomfortable by the stars lining up..." He sips his tea, thoughtful.

Smoke gallops away, but a minute later they can hear her swatting around a ball of crumpled paper, not far off between bookshelves.

"I'm afraid you're likely not clear of that, yet. but if you run into any kind of trouble in the future, do let me know?" Once somebody has even dabbled in magic, strange things are likely to be drawn to them, and she's pretty deep in.