"Yes, Arithmancy...a strumpet, she is. A right trollop." Wayne flipped the book closed carelessly and hit his head on its closed cover.
"Though if you're not careful, Runes'll take your head off." That had happened more than once with Wayne - as long as the book was heavy, he'd drop it on himself. He figured he was the klutziest klutz who'd ever klutzed.
"So are you going to ask Brigid to the ball?" he asked, grinning evilly. He'd seen them together, and knew that glazed look Albus's eyes got whenever she came up in conversation - usually related to some event or another she was hosting.
Shit, he realized, too late. Albus could reverse the tables if he'd recognized the clothes Wayne had worn back from Justin's. They clearly weren't Wayne's. Albus was observant and eerily secretive about things sometimes.
"I think she fancies you," he added casually, with absolutely no evidence to back up his statement. It'd never stopped him before.