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Ronald B. Weasley (geroffme) wrote in wished,

Ron raised his eyebrows at Flint as he stood, suppressing the urge to dare him outright to do something stupid. It seemed like Flint was content with nothing but a bit of a show, and as much as Ron might have liked to make it more ... he was pretty sure that would be frowned upon, and he really didn't want to be condemned to a desk before his career had even properly started. And when Susan vouched for him, he really had no choice but to lower his wand.

"Flint?" he asked, openly skeptical. "Really?" He didn't care if the man could hear him. None of this would come as any surprise. He'd never spent too much time around him - entirely by design - but had never known him to be anything but a brutish prat. "What about them?" He nodded to the unlucky thieves lying in a pile outside the door. "Did they hurt you? Do you need a mediwizard? It looks like they did a number on the shop. Do you know them?" There was a thought: he turned his attention back to Flint for a moment. "Do you know them?"