She had found a couple of knuts in the coat, which she scooped out quietly, and then discovered a small hole in the bottom of a pocket. Ester prodded a finger through and sat there for a long moment in surprise at herself, and the sudden motherly pang that had hit her with the desire to sew it up for him.
But he had work on the brain. She chuckled lightly when she digested it, mostly because the poor dear clearly could not see the state he was in.
“Quidditch, wasn’t it?” Ester said vaguely, half-aware that he was famous for something other than his obvious vices. “But you don’t need to go, do you? Surely the rules of the game don’t change that often,” she teased. But really, she did not know what quidditch players possibly did all the time: it was not as though they could forget how to fly every week, was it? (The only other thing she knew about quidditch was that Thomas played it at school - he had said it in a letter once - but she couldn’t remember which position.)
And poor Bart was busy going through something, so no one ought to make him work today.
But he had work on the brain. She chuckled lightly when she digested it, mostly because the poor dear clearly could not see the state he was in.
“Quidditch, wasn’t it?” Ester said vaguely, half-aware that he was famous for something other than his obvious vices. “But you don’t need to go, do you? Surely the rules of the game don’t change that often,” she teased. But really, she did not know what quidditch players possibly did all the time: it was not as though they could forget how to fly every week, was it? (The only other thing she knew about quidditch was that Thomas played it at school - he had said it in a letter once - but she couldn’t remember which position.)
And poor Bart was busy going through something, so no one ought to make him work today.
![[Image: uWJZ5yA.png]](https://i.imgur.com/uWJZ5yA.png)