leans back, feet propped on the opposite seat So, a Galleon says she’s back in his bed by the end of the feast.

Too generous. I say she walks in, he looks at her, and she apologizes for leaving. By Hogsmeade weekend.

stares out the window, a faint, condescending smile on his lips You’re both underestimating the conditioning. It’ll be before the Sorting’s finished. She’ll seek me out.

You didn’t see her. I’m telling you, she’s different. Harder.

Different haircut, different clothes. It’s a phase. Grief does strange things, but core nature doesn’t change.

twirling a strand of pale hair, eyes fixed on Tom yeah but like… she had this look. and pansy said she has tattoos? that’s so… trashy. tom would never go for that now, right?