"Because you're not," he answered with a finality to his tone that left no room for argument. Ted was a patient man, but he was no teacher and Nymphadora definitely needed someone to teach her to drive more defensively.
Her answer frustrated him and so did her retreating form. He watched her hair bob and weave in the wind as she went inside. He buried his fingers in his own hair, nonplussed, his other hand in his pocket. With a confused shake of his head, he finally went inside and dropped his other hand in his other pocket because these sort of shops just always made him uncomfortable.