“Well, it was only my interpretation of the novel Moseley.” Astor explained to the younger member. “Just because I saw it this way, does not mean that is how the author imagined people to see it in.” Astor sat on a desk like every other Monday evening.
“I suppose that’s true enough. I have been guilty of trying to insist there’s a ‘right’ interpretation,” Ned nodded slowly. He drummed his fingers lightly on the desk, thinking of how else to continue the conversation,” There’s something to be said about not reading a book through the eyes of the author. For example, many famous American authors were also famous drinkers… and I tend to be out after my third.”
“Yes, you Gryffs tend to do that even if you do not realise it.” She stated not a mean or nice way. She was already bored of this conversation and wondered why she even started to talk to a boy whom was in a different house and younger. “You know, you probably should not tell a prefect that.”
