"Anywhere's small with magic," Herman pointed out. "If you can apparate." Which was not exactly the most cheering thought. You can run, but... Herman stared at a puddle of spilled pumpkin juice on the table in front of him, discontented. Meaghan was right, the world was full of shit.
"Well, good luck," he said. He snuck a glance at her. Was she even paying attention to him? Should he try again at asking her? Was there any point, if she was leaving? And wasn't it altruistic of him to wish her good luck when what he really wanted to do was lean across the table and kiss her?