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uno~
There was no doubt that Malcolm liked Melinda. Not like that, mind (or maybe just a little like that, too), but she was fun to be around with and she was witty and never made him feel like jumping off the astronomy tower at the mere thought of talking to her. There was the sarcasm, too, and the witty remarks, that made Malcolm laugh more often than not, because other people tended to take everything he said seriously and that just took the fun out of it, after a while. Melinda was a lot like him, he reckoned, except maybe prettier, but that didn't bother him as much as it should, because he knew that were he a girl, Melinda wouldn't stand a chance compared to him. But yes, she was a lot like him, which was basically the reason why he liked hanging out with her so much.

Taking his robes off the rest of the way, Malcolm threw them on Charlie's bed behind him and went on taking his shirt off, next, as the potion had soaked through the fabric. Shaking his head at himself for not thinking of getting a shirt out, as well, he knelt in front of his trunk again and repeated his previous actions. "Well, I always try, but you make it difficult," he replied, the hint of a smile in his voice as he almost buried himself in his trunk looking for a clean shirt. The thing was such a mess... Maybe he should ask Melinda to sort it out for him. Weren't girls supposed to be all orderly and shit? He looked up at Melinda for a second, tilted his head in consideration, before shaking his head again and resuming his search. Right, as if that would ever happen.

He discarded the first shirt he found, noticing a large ink stain on the side, and kept looking while Melinda talked. He was slightly surprised to hear she had been snooping around his side of the room, but really, he should've expected it – she was a lot like him, he reminded himself, but not entirely. Giving up his search for the moment, Malcolm looked up again, an eyebrow raised in question. "What kind of girl are you?" he retorted, a grin forming on his face as he crawled around the bed. Keeping his eyes on Melinda, he took his wand from his back pocket and waved it at the space under his bed. "Finite incantatem," he muttered under his breath, ending the disillusionment spell he usually kept on his things.