Following a long day, Ludo liked to unwind. Sometimes, this meant getting high with Tilden—others, beating around a Bludger with Gwen. Today, however, Ludo had his heart set on his favourite cushy armchair in the part of the common room that the Seventh Years normally had cornered off. Flopping down into said armchair, he turned to the only other Seventh Year occupant: one Abigail Harris.
“Was it just me, or were classes today battier than usual?” he asked her, furrowing his brow. “Genuinely thought Pucey was going to send a student to the Hospital Wing, he was that terrible at Cheering Charms—and this was just meant to be a revision session. Also, his aim was ruddy awful.” He shook his head. As a Beater speaking to a Chaser, Ludo put a lot of stock into aiming well, and was not impressed. “Glad we don’t have practice today, though,” he said, stretching out, then peering at what she was doing. “What’s that you got there? Homework... working on something new... letters to a lover...?”
@fixitabi
