peterpaulwisdom:

        His shoulders rise and fall in sync as though her words made him care in the slightest of whether or not there were actual, visible differences. Perhaps one had hair an inch longer or the other had a cow-lick flicking the front of her fringe up into an irritating swirl. He was sure there were differences but he was sure those weren’t something he could label off the top of his head “Whatever you say Luv. Personalty wise it ain’t hard. Most lasses are flattered.” 

   It’s evident however that he seems to have caught her attention with the muggle-bought treat and, in hindsight, found himself common ground on which to build this potential whatever it was with the little Ravenclaw opposite him “It’s a pop-tart. Only me ma was a witch, pops a muggle. Sends me a right good stash so long as I don’t go back home. Fair trade really.” idly does he offer the remaining pastry towards the girl, no ill wishes or hexes following the modest gesture 

    “I know what it is.” She was snippy and in her tyrant to be right and knowing and clever quick to reply. But when he’d made his offer to her her gaze dropped once again, finding her sense of pride in her fervent want to take it and her refusal to on the grounds of morals. She’d all but forgotten it’d be pulled it from his coat (inherently gross) in the stupor of seeing sweets that were not enchanted to move and ruin one’s appetite. And still she refused. “But I really shouldn’t.”

There was a missed beat where she half shifted putting one hand back on her books and promising herself she’d return to her studies. His backstory, while over sharing, had done the job she assumed he’d meant it to do. She was curious. A sigh stifled at the back of her throat as she fancied she’d regret continuing on. “You’re…a slytherin aren’t you?” It was a tentative question, being she knew the answer and had more to ask. “With muggle parents?

Feb 9 12:22 ( ♥ 20 )