Mandy's eyes drifted to the proffered hand, her eyes flickering up to his before the hesitantly reached out and took it. It was warm and solid and familiar. Especially when his fingers wrapped around hers, engulfing her much small her hand. She shouldn't be comforted by it but she was. Mandy sighed, shifting so that she was sitting next to him, head light and airy from her potion. It really wasn't fair that, after all this time, he still had that soothing effect on her. Perhaps it was years of friendship but she was certain life would be much easier if she could just... actively dislike him.
They'd been here so many times before. When she'd sat her O.W.L's and then her N.E.W.T.'s and then when she'd had to sit for her licensing. He hated sitting on the floor. But he did it anyway.
She swept her hair to the side with her free hand, letting her head rest against her bed. She'd been in this same studio flat for years. Roger was as familiar with it as she was. "I hope so, Roger," she murmured, trying not to cry. "And Oliver? What do I do about him? He just tossed me aside like I was nothing? Why am I never enough? What's wrong with me?"