Cameron stood up straight and took a step back, taking her hair—rather than her words—as a warning sign. It seemed he'd gotten her all riled up now. He'd be lucky if she didn't set a sea of garden gnomes after him in their next Care of Magical Creatures lesson.

"Come on, strawberry-head," he said, unable to resist the gentle teasing upon seeing her hair that color for the first time. It suit her, he thought, but it was probably more dangerous than it was worth. He continued to step away from her, fetching both of their bags off the ground so she'd have no choice but to follow him.

"I'm less worried about you getting detention than I am about you freezing to death. You're only in your quidditch robes." Which were still wet with sweat, and that was unlikely to be helpful when the cool breeze set in. "You can be mad all you want, but do it inside where it's warm."

He started to walk off, her bag slung around his chest.

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