She doesn't think it's wrong. How could it be, when this is the happiest few moments she's had in days? He doesn't look at her like a child as so many others do. For a girl with an aged soul, this is as important to her as anything else. She despises being treated like she's too young to know anything.
"Gryffindor, actually, though I often wondered why. I'm not really all that brave," she likes the way he's interested in what she's saying, as if it has true value, "I bet you were Ravenclaw though. To invent as you do, you've got to be brilliant. You seem to know so much."
She turns her blue eyes up to his, wondering what he'll think about her answer. It's funny that he noticed her most distinguishing feature first. Her animagus has the same eyes, relentlessly blue, "My second form is wolf, which is why I am bias to Lupus. Perhaps it's even why I enjoy night so much. I find myself drawn to the pull of Mother Moon sometimes."