stabs a sausage with more force than necessary Someone pass the pumpkin juice before I hex someone.

Don’t look at me, Theo. My mood is foul enough as it is. she glares down the table

Is it just me, or is it particularly drafty this morning?

It’s not the draft, Greengrass.

leans in, voice low Ten galleons says it kicks off before the eggs are cold.

Not taking that bet, Zabini. The atmosphere is thicker than my aunt’s pudding. he discreetly slides a small, black-bound notebook deeper into his robe pocket

sighs, stirring her tea It’s been days. This is getting ridiculous.

He’s an idiot. A spectacular, world-class idiot.

slams his goblet down, the clang echoing sharply Did someone say something?