She was laughing and it wasn’t some beautiful, angelic sound people often associated with women. She was laughing at him, and while he was used to it - people often told him that the Hillicker clan was one of the most uneducated families that had ever graced the wizarding world - he still hated the sound. Her laugh was like nails scraping against a chalkboard and he tried his best not to grimace, although he didn’t try too hard as they weren’t facing each other. One hand rubbed at his ear as a frown spread across his lips. This went to the top of one of his least favorite sounds of all time.

Cliff’s hand dropped from his ear to hook under her legs. Thank goodness she wasn’t wearing some large dress that would bog them both down, although it would be less awkward than having his arms touching her legs, even if they were clothed. At least Algernon had conned him into a real shower with soap and everything the night before (they’d shared a bed because he wasn’t about to sleep in his roommate’s bed, and Astorwood had had a fit when Cliff had mentioned he’d sleep on the floor before they cuddled), claiming he was too dirty to sleep in his bed. Not that he was particularly dirty all the time, he just worked outdoors and he couldn’t stop the dirt from clinging to him.

His body was tense as he kept walking, wondering what she was going to pull. If she chose to murder him, would be drop dead right here? It would be extremely rude to kill him while his back was turned and he’d haunt her for the rest of her days - and then some if she became a ghost too - for pulling a stunt like that! Then he snorted at her claim. “Yeah, well, my brother’s name is Heathcliff so my mum clearly has a theme going on.” Clifford wished his name was fake. His first name wasn’t bad, but his last name… He’d heard all the jokes and then some, especially with the ‘licker’ part attached to it.

Cliff hummed at her name, but made no comment on it. Would she prefer Ms. Chang? Probably. But Ida sounded a lot simpler to say and it would probably grate on her nerves if he were to shift past all the formalities. It was a dumb tradition, plus he loathed being called Mr. Hillicker.

He readjusted her on his back as she directed him, and then broke the silence with a train of thought that forced a smile against his lips. “This afternoon would be great,” he murmured in agreement. “And once I’m out, I can apparate. As long as the damn barrier is gone, I can get myself home. I don't live in Hogsmeade.” Not that he had a license to do so, but that wasn’t something Ida needed to know. He tried to take a glance at her, Cliff just shuffled his feet forward instead. “You think in the village?” Of course that was going to be difficult, and while he didn’t want to trust her, she was going to force his hand.

“Or, do you have something else planned? Some weird portkey in your house you’re going to make me try?” While Cliff wouldn’t be opposed to that either, he didn’t want to wind up in some weird place that was impossible to get home from.

Finally the house was coming into view; it was much larger than he expected, given that his own home on a farm was smaller and he was almost positive they owned more land. Of course he hadn’t had the time to properly assess their property, and he wasn’t sure he’d ever want to step foot on their land again. Ida Chang probably would kill him because she’d have plenty of time to think of several ways to take him out. His fingers thrummed against her legs, almost nervously.

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