She rolled her eyes. Was he really that daft? Or that humourless? Of course she didn't think she was the only one, what did he take her for, some vain twit? She meant a joke of - oh sod it. Wasn't worth it. "I got your drift," she said dryly, looking at him from the top of her eyes. She shrugged, her grin returning. "Yes, well, Morag does tend to be the center of attention, regardless of how."
Though he was teasing, a ruffle went up her nerves. "Aw, shite, and here I had been hoping that I was a fierce pioneer in that area," she said with a bite of sarcasm, though she was grinning. "I so dreamed of having a wing in the Irish Ministry dedicated in my honour."
She looked him square in the eye, her face becoming serious. "When I say that I'm the only one that thinks of it - it be because my friends, my form mates that be halfbloods and Muggle-borns, they've made their choice. They're wizards, sod it, and they don't look back. When they go on hols, they don't come back feeling mixed up. I be a sixth form, and I should be 'over it' by now," she said, using air quotes, her mouth tightening as she quoted a friend. She shook her head. "That's what I meant."
Now all she wanted to do was leave. Julianne felt like he saw her as some daft, conceited fluff, and it made her pulse pound in her temples. All she wanted was her piano now: it didn't understand, either, but at least she knew she belonged there.
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