The face she made at him clearly said he had guessed wrong but that wasn't entirely his fault. She just wasn't good at this miming bullshit. Grabbing her notebook, she started to scribble in it, still listening and paying attention.
Her wounds were more than just verbal but that was what the long sleeves were for. Funny how no one had figured that out yet. They just assumed she'd grown up and changed her style. A lot of people had. But she thought that a lot of people had the same sort of scars too. The first thing he showed him was a written sentence that said, No, I couldn't sleep. I wish I could've though.
And the second thing was a drawn crown. With a smirk, she started whistling the tune for the first verse of the Slytherin's "Weasley is Our King." Then she winked at him, laughing silently.