"McLaggen, but maybe not quite so fit. I mean, you've seen him, he's got these pouty lips, like he plays ab oboe or something, and freckles! Freckles Moony! But yes, it is very weird that he's not old. Very very weird. Him being hot is also weird, but not because he's not old. McGonnagal was a smoke show and she was no spring chicken. Ah, I miss her. I hope she turns up."
This was nice. Easy, familiar banter kn Gryffindor common room. He couldn't help but glance over at his journal though. He'd charmed it to make a little bell sound if James messaged him. He didn't want him alone with Peter if things got ugly.
"I hate that he used you that way," he blurted out. "Dumbledore. Making you lie to everyone, do something that must have been so hard for you. And it was a shit cover story. If you're drifting away from wizards why would they want to join us? You're right, that makes no sense. Did he even expect you to be able to pull it off? Or was it just more manipulation that fed into some larger plan that he never intended to tell us about?"