A smile wide on her lips, Flora resisted the urge to roll her eyes. This was just silly, but it was an alluring type of silly—the type her strict governess would rarely allow her to indulge in without a minor scolding.
"Flying pebbles: the peak of magical inventiveness," she teased, rubbing her thumb against the smooth surface of her pebble. "If you really wanted to use them, you might turn them into little bracelets; I'd surely purchase one." Despite their uselessness, they were pretty.
She had little clue if the boy's claim of a ghostly father was true or not, but it was irrelevant to the argument nevertheless. No one's parents could make them inherently more reliable (at least not people like them).
"My Papa works at the Ministry. He does very important things there."
"Flying pebbles: the peak of magical inventiveness," she teased, rubbing her thumb against the smooth surface of her pebble. "If you really wanted to use them, you might turn them into little bracelets; I'd surely purchase one." Despite their uselessness, they were pretty.
She had little clue if the boy's claim of a ghostly father was true or not, but it was irrelevant to the argument nevertheless. No one's parents could make them inherently more reliable (at least not people like them).
"My Papa works at the Ministry. He does very important things there."
