He was surprisingly pleased to know that he was, in fact, making an impression on her. It was sometimes difficult to tell, particularly since she kept everyone at arms length and her emotions under tight wraps. He had to raise an eyebrow at her comment about there being a mold. That was the second time that week he'd ended up in a conversation about living up to a certain mold. First Pansy with her ideas of perfection and now Emma with whatever it was she thought of as the "slytherin" mold.
"What's so wrong with having your own mold?" he asked, offering her a shrug. "Some might like to act like it, but the last time I checked, Slytherin wasn't about being from a society family or being Pureblood. Or at least, the sorting hat never said anything about it." The last part was his attempt to lighten the mood further. Serious conversations about politics weren't usually the best idea at these sorts of things. You were bound to offend someone.
He was curious about what she had been about to ask him, but she followed it with her thanks and that wasn't something he could ignore in order to focus on his own curiosity. "It's my pleasure, really."