Severus blinks, confused now. "Get from you?" He nods. "That's more consistent--I think." He shrugs a little; it's all interpretive anyway.
"It'd really be the mirror catching the nightmares. Yes, yes, but it wouldn't be lurid while the lights were on. Then it would just be dark."
"I'll certainly remember the offer," he assures him, wondering how who had tattooed 'charity case' on his forehead when he wasn't looking. It must have been after he got on the train, or Narcissa probably wouldn't have sat with him, but before Slughorn took stock of them... ah! On the train, when Luke was doing That Thing Of Which We Would Not Speak Even If We Remembered It.
Severus recoils from the wall, on which anyone could have expelled bodily fluids and probably had. "You realize this is the story I'm telling whenever anyone even thinks about mixing their drinks from here on," he remarks, adding more quietly, entertained, "Very enthusiastic. They'll think you're dying of the bloody flux."
I felt sorry for her too, until it became clear that her psychiatric issues were the least of her problems. Hee! Will tell it. n,n Unions are a Very Good Idea, but it's a problem if not everyone has them. :\ I just learned a trick for that: leave a couple of feet at the end unshoveled. If there's a space in the snowfield, all the dirty packed up snow the plow has been toting will be pressured into that space. Otherwise the plow just cuts on through. You still have to dig the area, but only once, and not that nasty heavy snow the plow leaves behind.