Basil was not prepared for the moment Macnair turned around and grabbed him by the nose. It didn’t hurt, per say, but it surprised him more than the Ravenclaw was willing to admit. Every time he was this close to Macnair he felt something in his stomach twist but the feeling was so fleeting that by the time he bothered to let himself think about it, dissect it, it was gone. So was the same case here as the Slytherin quipped at him and made to keep going. Basil frowned.

Rubbing his nose, brow still pinched a bit, he didn’t respond to the comment about shadows. Basil very well knew that this was not the place he wanted to be, but he also felt a pang of guilt at just leaving Macnair behind. So, grumpy, he muttered back: “That didn’t answer my question.”

Eventually the other spoke again. Basil was hot on his heels, determined not to be left behind but knowing it was likely useless to try and convince the Slytherin out of whatever had gotten into his head. It wasn’t until Macnair mentioned an acromantula that Basil paused in his tracks as if frozen. “Agrimony, no!“ His voice was a lot deeper, more forceful than Basil had expected. “You can’t just waltz into an acromantula colony! It doesn’t matter what precautions you may have brought, you won’t survive it.” Standing firm, Basil was determined not to take a step further. There was no bloody way he was going to support this, or go along with the Slytherin’s ludicrous scheme!

“I know I followed you of my own volition, but please don’t be… hardheaded about this.” He knew Macnair would be, so it was an empty plea. Exasperated already, Basil’s voice softened. “Let’s just head back to the castle. We’re in enough trouble as it is if we get caught this late.”

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