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Post by Serenity Williams on May 23, 2015 16:33:48 GMT
"Don't you go traitor on me, Frenchieboy."
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Post by Sophie MacMillan on May 23, 2015 16:38:50 GMT
"Oh he won't," Sophie answered for him. Frenchieboy indeed. " There's no love lost between us and the snakes."
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Post by Robert Fowler on May 23, 2015 16:39:35 GMT
"Oh do I?" He had not realised it was that obvious. "It's not a very happy story. I wouldn't want to bother you with it."
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Post by Mary Scott on May 23, 2015 16:43:00 GMT
"Don't worry," Mary said, "I won't pry. But if you ever want to talk... about 'it' or anything else, I promise I'm a good listener, and very bad at repeating things I hear"
She blushed a little as she realised the ambiguity of that last clause.
"I mean I don't repeat things I hear. Not at all. But honestly, no pressure. It's just that you seem, well, under a cloud."
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Post by Christopher Renard on May 23, 2015 16:49:42 GMT
Christopher was about to make a witty retort when Sophie cut him off, effectively ending the repartee.
Instead he settled for, "Apparently not", accompanied by a rather strained, and very forced, smile.
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Post by Annie Sutter on May 23, 2015 16:56:47 GMT
Annie tugged Serenity's sleeve. "We should let you get to your dinner. Which is to say, I'm itching to get flying." She rolled her eyes. "See you two later?"
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Post by Serenity Williams on May 23, 2015 16:58:31 GMT
"See ya." She took a few skipping steps (she loved when a party came together) and made to follow Annie.
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Post by Sophie MacMillan on May 23, 2015 17:01:33 GMT
"Enjoy the grounds," Sophie called after them, a weight lifting from her shoulders. "So...dinner?"
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Post by Robert Fowler on May 23, 2015 17:20:40 GMT
They kept moving towards the Great Hall.
"I'll keep that in mind." The grateful smile he put on for her came easier to him than he expected. He moved his hand to his shoulder, forcing Anne to fly up, and rubbed it. As soon as he moved his hand away the owl was right back. "Sorry, my owl gets very attached ... for some reason." He grasped for something to talk about, to be polite.
"Aren't we in Arithmancy together?" He knew they were, the class wasn't that big.
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Post by Walter York on May 23, 2015 17:28:07 GMT
Walter bit his lip a moment, then let it pass. "So...what's with the extra reading, Scarlet?"
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Post by Christopher Renard on May 23, 2015 17:33:01 GMT
"Okay." He turned, removing his arm from her shoulders as he did so, and putting his hands in his pockets.
He fiddled with the change in his pocket absent-mindedly. "You know that Serenity and I were just joking." It was a statement, not a question.
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Post by Scarlet Irisa on May 23, 2015 17:36:32 GMT
She waited until Robert and Mary were a little further ahead, "Esquire wanted to see me. My grades have been slipping a bit." She muttered embarrassedly. She didn't mind admitting it to Walter as much, he wasn't the type to judge.
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Post by Walter York on May 23, 2015 17:40:16 GMT
"It's not been an easy semester." Walter said diplomatically. "And from my limited understanding, it's not an easy subject. I'm sure you'll be able to get back on track. Esquire is the understanding type." He himself had gone to him, rather than his own head of house, after the scrying disaster.
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Post by Mary Scott on May 23, 2015 17:55:35 GMT
They kept moving towards the Great Hall. "I'll keep that in mind." The grateful smile he put on for her came easier to him than he expected. He moved his hand to his shoulder, forcing Anne to fly up, and rubbed it. As soon as he moved his hand away the owl was right back. "Sorry, my owl gets very attached ... for some reason." He grasped for something to talk about, to be polite. "Aren't we in Arithmancy together?" He knew they were, the class wasn't that big. Of course he wouldn't remember her. "That's right," Mary said, smiling, "I'm just about keeping on top of those... what are they called? Shifting-Primes? I remember when numbers had the courtesy to stay in their usual order and not start playing tricks on hapless oracles."
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Post by Scarlet Irisa on May 23, 2015 18:02:35 GMT
"It's because I spend so many hours at Quidditch Practice." But there was no way she was giving that up. "He's pretty good about it, after all, he wants to win the cup."
She could see a few sleepless nights in her imminent future. Esquire had more or less told her that if she didn't get her grades up he'd assign her a tutor, which was something she really didn't want to happen. But she kept that nugget of information to herself.
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