Connor didn’t say anything about vampires, even if Charlie thought they would be cool. (Cool was all well and good until you found out your friend was a halfbreed, born of one such bloodsucking monster.)
Still, for this reason, he wasn’t scared of vampires. They would know what he was, but they wouldn’t drink his blood. “Oh, hags definitely eat children,” Connor affirmed, matter-of-factly; he had read it in a non-fiction book on magical beings as well as reading many gory accounts in his usual penny dreadfuls. “But Gryffindors aren’t the only people who can be brave,” Connor ribbed, lightly mocking, as he strode up to Charlie and past him, leading them further in. Whether this was confidence, or there was something about fast-walking that somehow made him feel safer, who knew.
Still, for this reason, he wasn’t scared of vampires. They would know what he was, but they wouldn’t drink his blood. “Oh, hags definitely eat children,” Connor affirmed, matter-of-factly; he had read it in a non-fiction book on magical beings as well as reading many gory accounts in his usual penny dreadfuls. “But Gryffindors aren’t the only people who can be brave,” Connor ribbed, lightly mocking, as he strode up to Charlie and past him, leading them further in. Whether this was confidence, or there was something about fast-walking that somehow made him feel safer, who knew.