unsteady

“You’re strange. Interesting even.”

“Says the one that was standing in the middle of a street. But you’re interesting, too,” he said, letting his eyes slowly wander over the other, testing the waters cautiously.

“I was, for a bit, with that one.” Barty flashed a small smile, which only grew brighter when Sebastian called him clever. “I was a Ravenclaw for a reason. You’re right, though. You’re brilliant at potions.” Barty wasn’t horrible at potions. It was just the only subject where he wasn’t excelling above everyone else. “We could get food after that this week.”

“Was that reason to pique a bit of jealousy in me?” he joked. “Yeah, food would be good. What kind of food do you like?”

“If you want anyone to understand a jot of what you’re saying, you’ll have to be less obtuse.”

“Whatever you say, Lestrange.”

“Not that I’m unambitious -quite the contrary- but that’s a lot more than a second language.”

“I’m just giving you options on how to pick your second language. All of them would be pretty impressive, though.”

Wouldn’t you, though?

“Of course not.”

“Nothing interesting at all happened. Rather disappointing actually.”

“Too bad, so sad, mate.”

“Yes! A whole day!”

“Or maybe he was shy.”

“I can’t imagine being that shy, though. I’d want in my common room.”

“Regretfully, no. I’m ashamed to admit it. What sort of hopeful future Wizengamot representative doesn’t know a second language? I need to start learning. But what?”

“Oh, you want to be on the Wizengamot? Impressive. You should learn something from each continent, I think. French and Spanish have the Americas pretty well covered. Even Europe, I suppose. Maybe Japanese or Chinese for your Asian language? I don’t really know what the most common language would be for Africa.”

“IV. You get rid of half the letters, so it’s half of five, and it’ll be four in roman numerals.”

“I’d have been stuck outside. It’s not secret you’re more clever than I am anyway. Except when it comes to potions, apparently.”

Miss.

“I wouldn’t want you to think I’m impolite, after all.”

“The riddle changes, if you forget the answer then you would have to wait for someone who knew it or until it changed.”

“Regardless of how often it changes, it’s still only simple if the riddle is simple.”

“Quite admire? I don’t follow.”

“I’m sure you don’t.”

“God-fucked, I meant. Not the French. The French are fine. Great pastries.” 

“Oh, yes, God-fucked is a bit blasphemous, but rather fun. Pastries are great, too. Do you speak any other languages?”

“Interesting, if not a little unintentionally blasphemous. Your mother sounds like a very smart woman.”

“She was incredibly smart. How is that blasphemous, though? French is a major language of business in Europe. Some of my father’s family lives in France, too.”

“So you know French, too? God-fucked, that’s quite the resume.”

“God-fucked, hmm? Interesting phrase. But yes, my mother wanted me to be able to speak French if I were to go into business, so she made sure I learned that as well.”

“To see what’d happen.”

“How’d that go for you?”

“How can the number four be half of five?”

Sebastian thought for a long moment, as if he actually thought he was clever enough to come up with the answer. “How?”