He wrinkled his nose at garden club, which sounded less like Herbology and basically like flower-arranging to him, and he had never been one for the outdoors... but book club might be fine, and music. And – “I can play chess,” Connor put in, almost eagerly. He did not often have anyone to play with, so usually he would just play both sides against each other and have to tune out the losing pieces’ cries of favouritism. Hopefully he was good enough to play against other people. “Maybe music.” She took the class, she’d said – he wondered if that meant she was good at music.

She seemed good at physical things, anyway – she had the rhythm of skipping stones pretty well down. Connor thought he was getting the hang of it, slowly – but like music or chess, it was going to take a hell of a lot of practise. “S’alright,” he added of her rambling, straightening up after casting a fairly good shot out at the water. She did yammer on a lot, which was weird, but he could half-tune her out when he tried to concentrate, so it hadn’t got on his nerves. Yet. Still, her talking all the time almost made him feel beholden to try and say something in response, even when his mind was as blank, so he chanced another question, trying to figure her out. “Does your twin like all the same things you do?” (If they were always together, it would explain the incessant talking.)

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