It did seem threatening. Sidda's grip on the railing tightened, but her expression remained carefully neutral. If you had enough self-control, you didn't have to behave like a victim when someone threatened you. You could, if you thought they'd take pity on you for it, but some people wouldn't. They'd enjoy watching your fear instead, get some twisted delight out of it. Sidda wouldn't have bet on Remus having a sadistic streak, but war changed people. She stayed silent, kept watching him.
She had to resist the urge to make some cutting remark about sixth-formers playing childish pranks. It wouldn't help, and besides, a prank war sounded more like a proxy war, an excuse for him to bully first-years whose parents were on the side of the Dark Lord. Having left school a year earlier than her peers, Sidda couldn't guess at the specific details – but with what Remus said next, she realised that the pranks, whatever else they might have been, were an irrelevance.
'It doesn't sound crazy,' she said slowly. 'What if I told you that the same thing had happened to me? Not to outer space, but somewhere else. Like another planet, with different landmasses. Different countries. Felix and I were stuck there for months, and then we woke up at home, like it had never happened.'