Re: log, Hogsmeade: Victoire W/Sirius B/some James P
"Don't mutter," she said as she passed the impostor, and she gave him a distrusting little look when he did that strange sidestep dance.
Inside, everything was as it ought to be, greens and pinks and piles of teacups that defied gravity. Something soothed her in that predictability, not that it was possible to tell she required soothing. She merely stepped in, and yes he'd heard French. She'd been able to do that since the birthday party where she'd learned that she was born on a day made for ghosts. The waving of fingers belonged to her mum as well, but the French was all her own. Perhaps it wasn't necessary at all; it wasn't for her mum, but she used it all the same.
She stepped around the blue-nosed impostor, gracefully avoiding teapots and cups to find a plush little table near the window. There, she sat, refinement and hands in her lap. She'd tucked away her wand, and she regarded her companion with distrusting blue eyes. "Well, out with it. How's it done? It's really quite dreadful. Not for me, but for Teddy. Uncle Harry's older, and it won't trouble him as much if he sees."