"Ouch, I'm wounded." the hand that wasn't holding onto Mops' leash came up and clasped over his heart, and Quentin made a pained face. "Right to the core, woman."
He met Patricia's very amusing suggestion with a chuckle of laughter. "Oh, even better. I wonder if there ever has been a student who has pined away over Snape. Or Slughorn. Or Binns, for that matter." There was someone out there with every taste, after all.
"Excellent. I'm free until I have to return to the castle for dinner duty." He rolled his eyes, just a little bit, but not really in an annoyed way. He was finding that he liked the job. True, it cramped his social life a tiny bit, but there were downsides to any job. And he had to say, the food was generally good, and that meant he didn't have to cook himself. Quentin was pretty decent in the kitchen but that didn't mean he wanted to cook every day.
"Oh well, that look gives it away." He wagged a finger at her dreamy face. "That one right there. You either met whatever famous person you had a crush on as a small girl, or Alix." Reaching the Three Broomsticks, he held the door open for her followed her through, picking up Mops and tucking him under his arm. Hopefully Madame Rosmerta wouldn't mind. Who could mind Mops.
Quentin lead them over to a booth and slid in one side, tucking Mops between himself and the wall. "Spill."