Aubrey and the girl were having quite a companionable conversation, he decided, as they descended the stairs together, the young lass doing most of the work. He listened to her logic with his ears pricked, delighted to hear he would not be abandoned back at the Slytherin Common Room. He had seen enough of that room for the rest of his life, thank you very much.

So he waited, on his best behaviour, on her shoulder until they got to the kitchens, aiming rather for a biscuit himself, and sure he could pounce upon one of hers to explain that desire if given half the chance. In order to show off his intellect properly, Aubrey made a scratching movement at her shoulder to get her attention, and then positioned himself - precariously, trying not slip off her shoulder - so as to deliberately scratch the pear on the painting with his spiney back, knowing tickling was the way to open the portrait door. (He’d known that since his schooldays; one of the most salient things he had learnt in his only year here.)

And ordinary hedgehogs? They damn well couldn’t do that. Hah.

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