Yes he was. Yes he fucking was. He was making his mother and father (despite the fact he was six feet under - he still most likely, didn’t believe in premarital sex) proud and if he had been a religious man, Jesus wouldn’t be crying and puppies wouldn’t be dying. Justin shrugged, her apology away. What was done was done. Although, he was a little happy about her using every word, except sorry, to apologize. Something he definitely would have done. He definitely saw traces of himself in her. Shame she was a pureblood.
Justin, opened the washroom door for her - another nice trait, he would like to point out he hadn’t forgotten about since birth. He picked up a spare wash towel and put it underneath the tap for a few seconds, before leaning forward and attempting to wipe some of the dessert away. “Would you prefer if you did this yourself? I could go looking for that dress for you?” He didn’t want Sally, implying he was anything like that Terry Boot, fellow again.