“Dying surrounded by lovely ladies is hardly a terrible death,” he replied, laughing at his cousin’s threat, not even minding the fact she’d hit his arm. It was one of the first times in a long time that he felt totally relaxed and was enjoying himself - not that he didn’t like his time at the Flint Institute, of course. It was just that being such a perfectionist, he put immense pressure on himself, especially when it came to his academic life, and spending time with someone whom he didn’t have to be perfect around even for an afternoon was relieving in a way that if he wasn’t completely horrified at the prospect, he could’ve cried.

It seemed, however, their relaxing day out was suddenly soured by his interest in the real reason that Elisabeth had come to Great Britain, as Dorian wasn’t satisfied by the lie that she simply wasn’t a good fit for a finishing school in Paris; if anything, he thought, the finishing school wasn’t good enough for her, and he’d testify to that. He raised an eyebrow when after that rather uncomfortable question about the dead Gryffindor girl, Elise told him to ask her about the school later, but he supposed he’d have to accept that. “Very well, Miss Champagne,” he smiled, “I will ask no more on the matter… for now.”

Dorian savored his ice cream, happy that despite the bumps in the road, they could talk about something pleasant. He laughed, then shook his head, “No, I’m afraid not. There’s nowhere in Hogsmeade that sells it and it’s the only place outside of Hogwarts we’re allowed to visit during the school term. But, I feel like if I had it more often, it wouldn’t be as much of a treat.” Plus, the concept of an ice cream sundae was new and it fascinated him - why hadn’t anyone come up with something like this before? “Speaking of term, will you write to me when I go back?” He hoped so, as he always enjoyed getting letters.