The corner of his lip tugged into a half-smile as she stretched. She was sleep, then—perfect. Less awkwardness, less awareness, even. The perfect victim. He pulled his book to his lap and began flipping through the pages until he found the palm-reading chapter. Merlin, who had stared at their palms so long that they decided there were meanings for every line and mound? (Oh, the answer was, of course, on the second page...)
"Lucky for me, this assignment calls for a partner who knows absolutely nothing" he said confidently, now that he was sure that this wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. "Professor Shacklebolt told us to pair up with a non-Divination student for a palm-reading session." As he spoke, his eyes dropped to her hands. They were small and softer-looking than his own, but even from a distance he could see the rough spots where she held onto her broom.
"So, in short, I need to stare at your hands for half an hour and then write down what I see. Help me, please?" He gave his best puppy-dog look, his bottom lip jutted out into a pout.
"Lucky for me, this assignment calls for a partner who knows absolutely nothing" he said confidently, now that he was sure that this wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. "Professor Shacklebolt told us to pair up with a non-Divination student for a palm-reading session." As he spoke, his eyes dropped to her hands. They were small and softer-looking than his own, but even from a distance he could see the rough spots where she held onto her broom.
"So, in short, I need to stare at your hands for half an hour and then write down what I see. Help me, please?" He gave his best puppy-dog look, his bottom lip jutted out into a pout.
