Theo wouldn’t go so far as to say he had planned today’s outing like this, to get to the High Street before it was chock-full with people for the New Year, and to dawdle long enough on the way back so hopefully the others would decide to leave the house without him... but if it worked out that way, he wouldn’t complain either.
So he was meandering at a very slow pace, ducking in and out of shops on the way back past Quality Quidditch Supplies, when someone called out at him. Theo blinked, glancing covertly in that general direction to see who it was out of the corner of his eye, and ready to pretend he hadn’t heard anything if it was someone he would rather avoid – but that ploy fell to pieces and fast, because Theo stopped dead and stared.
She was short enough to be Gemma Simpson, and loud enough too, and the dramatic waving was also very her. Theo pulled a disbelieving face that turned into a puzzled smile, and, in growing curiosity and surrender, reversed his direction to go and meet her by the window.
“It is you,” he began, once he was near enough to confirm the reality of her for himself – Gemma Simpson in flesh and blood, and not just some doppelganger or weird trick of the light. He couldn’t remember when he’d seen her last, was all. She’d left Hogsmeade, hadn’t she? “What are you doing here?” Theo asked, half-accusatory, half-grinning.
So he was meandering at a very slow pace, ducking in and out of shops on the way back past Quality Quidditch Supplies, when someone called out at him. Theo blinked, glancing covertly in that general direction to see who it was out of the corner of his eye, and ready to pretend he hadn’t heard anything if it was someone he would rather avoid – but that ploy fell to pieces and fast, because Theo stopped dead and stared.
She was short enough to be Gemma Simpson, and loud enough too, and the dramatic waving was also very her. Theo pulled a disbelieving face that turned into a puzzled smile, and, in growing curiosity and surrender, reversed his direction to go and meet her by the window.
“It is you,” he began, once he was near enough to confirm the reality of her for himself – Gemma Simpson in flesh and blood, and not just some doppelganger or weird trick of the light. He couldn’t remember when he’d seen her last, was all. She’d left Hogsmeade, hadn’t she? “What are you doing here?” Theo asked, half-accusatory, half-grinning.
