A squib probably wasn't all that fitting either, as there was nothing magical about her parents, though she didn't bother correcting herself to claim status as a muggle. That would be too shameful. Maybe she could be from one of the other schools that didn't appear to have any sorting systems in place. If only she had managed to get into Pottermore before the destruction of civilization.
Chuckling, his answer relieved her, not that she worried about any self-identified evil, but her lack of respect for those who were blind followers even hypothetically. But knowing the ending, the inevitable defeat of Voldemort, who would ally themselves with the losing side anyway? "In the end, he wasn't so terrifying. He was a name, a symbol, but the man behind it was weak and unimpressive. His vision was empty, and his followers were cowards. I wouldn't have, either," she added decidedly, the matter off blood purity not even factoring. But that was the point of the story, wasn't it?
While she had suspicions of how the story would have concluded, although far removed from any fandom theories to know what the word shipping even meant, she wasn't all that satisfied with the epilogue. "He should have died. In the end," she muttered quietly before attempting to silence herself, eyes transfixed on the movie.