Rose was sure there was a cosmic law that stated when you’d spent the evening sort-of-kind-of-possibly flirting with a boy and arranging to go out to dinner with him, that same boy would not be in your kitchen the next morning and if there wasn’t, there ought to be. Giving a glance down at the oversized jumper she favoured in the morning and pajamas, Rose realised she was decent and famished. A flick of her wand had the water jug boiling as she reached into the cupboard for the coffee she favoured before her system woke fully.
“Morning Terence,” the confusion she felt was evident on her face but it wasn’t until the scent of coffee filled the kitchen that Rose felt capable of forming coherent sentences. “I warned you I get up early, didn’t I? And Dorothy wanted his water enough to wake me up.” This was too early for even her as her brain began to take in what was happening. There were two damp hand-prints on his shirt and the former Hufflepuff tried to work out exactly what had happened.
Terence was still holding his bowl and the smile that tugged at Rose’s lips was gentle and amused. “I was going to make some breakfast, do you want some? I don’t really focus first thing in the morning until I’ve eaten something and had caffeine. Is everything allright?” Reaching for a plate, she stopped suddenly and turned to look at him with concern etched on her face. “Is Astoria okay?” Leaning past him she tried to get her flatmates door in her line of sight.