"I don't know," Bethanie admitted. "There's things that I've read that say I'm likely to be able to be happier if I stop. But then I think, they're not so bad now, they hardly ever say anything that's actually cruel, they just... don't really seem interested in my life." And they did still, sometimes, say things that were cruel - but it was much less often, now that Bethanie hardly saw them. She did smile at Laurel. "You're not telling me what to do. And I don't mind talking about it. Not everyone wants to listen, though." Which was fair enough, it tended to be either depressing or awkward, but Bethanie felt like Laurel understood, at least somewhat.
As Laurel explained, it started to make a little more sense to Bethanie. "I'm sorry," she said, again, not knowing what else to say. "I'm sure you don't need me to tell you that they're..." she paused. For herself, she didn't mind if others called her parents ridiculous or mean or even 'dicks'. They were all true. Some people, though, had an attitude that they were allowed to criticise but outsiders weren't. She didn't want to offend Laurel if that was the case. "Well, I don't think it's nice," she said, raising an eyebrow to show it was a deliberate understatement, which seemed safer.
Bethanie nodded. Even if there was no chance of her parents actually cutting her off, she could understand. "I could ask your own question back to you," she said. "Would you be happier if you were able to see your brothers and go to the cinema and read muggle books openly? It might be worth it." She wanted to reach out, but didn't. "Would you like a cup of tea?"