Sometimes the last thing in the world Theo felt like doing was going home. He felt bad to feel it: Cee was perpetually in a good mood, wherever she was, and he had nothing against Veronica or the kids, either. They were all doing their best. They were all, somehow, managing to move on.

And he wasn’t doing anything here except avoiding things, letting another day slip by. He was so far removed that he didn’t notice the movement or hear the footsteps until Lestrange was only a few rows away. He shifted with the barest suggestion of surprise, as the seeker dropped into the seat beside him.

He didn’t ask. Instead, he glanced sidelong and scrunched up his face at the reminder of the debacle that had been his birthday.

“Yeah, thanks.” It had been briefly horrifying, as well as awkward and embarrassing, but was almost - though he wouldn’t say as much to Cee - funny in the aftermath, and he couldn’t help himself from shooting Lestrange a crooked smile, and then a rueful shake of his head. “Bet she regrets throwing me the party, though.” At least it hadn’t been directly his fault, what had happened. (Although if anyone had deserved the splinching, it had been him, because he had been two seconds away from being an ungrateful jerk about the whole thing.)

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