Gus didn’t look good in red. It clashed with his hair and when matched with the yellow he liked to wear (always a Hufflepuff at heart, and he was very pleased to get to represent his former house again at Hogwarts), it made him think of ketchup and mustard. Irene, though, looked good in red, but maybe Gus just remembered seeing her wear it on her robes. Either way, seeing it splattered across her face while she blinked in shock made him laugh. At least he knew he wasn’t in too much trouble once she started laughing with him. She was on her back, and it was as if an occult hand had had reached down from above and knocked her over.

“Oh my dear Crawley, I don’t start things I can’t win.” Gus grinned as he narrowed his eyes at her, red paint splattering against his face; he chuckled and wiped it, smearing it across his cheek. A competitive sort, he suddenly had a desire to win against her if they were entering into some form of game. A friendly competition without a prize. (Outside of spending time with his friend, although that was something he always viewed as a prize, especially when it got him out of Hogwarts.) Gus popped up onto his feet as he retrieved his wand from his pocket, pointing it quickly toward the stains on the floor. With a mumbled spell, the red paint came (mostly) off the floor, forming into bubbles that bobbed in the air between them.

“Wanna see who can pop more?” With wands, without, blindfolded, by tossing things at them, Gus didn’t care; he was having fun with Irene and wanted to continue it.

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