Charles nodded with a half-shrug. He could sort of understand that and the need for her to rebel against society but he also knew that it was so easy for her to lose sight of who she was and spiral into a path he’d rather not see anyone go into. There was that girl, one of the Scrimgeours, who had gone down a spiral like that – though that case was much worse than a drunken teenage argument. Charles almost wished Mr. Scrimgeour had been marked as a violent wizard who needed despatching. After all, dealing with trouble was what Charles was good at. Alas, the rich purebloods always got off easy.
“Which I understand, just don’t rebel too much. I’d hate to see you get yourself into a bad… erm,” Charles stopped briefly, “… an unsavoury situation. You’re better than that.”
Looking forward after she’d taken his wand, Charles spoke, “I’ve already told you there’s no need for thanks,” He then turned to her with a raised eyebrow, “I know I deserve the thanks. I didn’t mean to insinuate I didn’t,” He shrugged with a soft smile, “but that doesn’t mean I want them, Miss Woodcroft. You needn’t thank me for anything.”
“Which I understand, just don’t rebel too much. I’d hate to see you get yourself into a bad… erm,” Charles stopped briefly, “… an unsavoury situation. You’re better than that.”
Looking forward after she’d taken his wand, Charles spoke, “I’ve already told you there’s no need for thanks,” He then turned to her with a raised eyebrow, “I know I deserve the thanks. I didn’t mean to insinuate I didn’t,” He shrugged with a soft smile, “but that doesn’t mean I want them, Miss Woodcroft. You needn’t thank me for anything.”