WHO: Morag MacDougal and Theodore Nott WHEN: Day 2. Just after lunch. WHERE: Outside the dining room WHAT: R? WHY?: Morag's mouth. STATUS: Incomplete.
Morag had done her best attempt at eating. The food here was just...different. She wasn't even sure it was bad, necessarily, there just seemed something off about it. Then again, it could be the fact that she'd thought her days of eating in large groups were over. It was just...not right. Still, she had to be thankful. The food had to be better than in Azkaban, so she'd be grateful. Mora was on her way to her room when she caught sight of someone who looked familiar.
Smirking, Mora increased her speed so she could catch up. "Oi! Nott!" She called, coming along beside the tall, weedy boy. "How are ye doin' today?" She ran a hand through her hair, remembering their entire friendship (if it could be called that) since they had always been rather obvious in both action, and deed (not to mention a good chunk of their friendship had been spent in silence as Theodore had preferred.