She had not lied when she said that seeing Mr. Pettigrew removed from quidditch was odd: when the season had been canceled, he had been so desperate to stay involved with broom sports that he had gotten himself thrown in prison for playing illegal sports. That, unfortunately, was the only non-quidditchy thing she knew of him, save that he didn’t get on with his family (excepting his mother, who Dezzie was not acquainted with). What did he even do in his spare time when there were no holiday events to occupy him? She was quite sure he did not attempt needlepoint as he did.

(She had actually gotten rather good, and had even produced a passable handkerchief with a broomstick in the corner, but damned if she would ever actually give it to him; it was not exactly the team culture, to give holiday gifts.)

“And yet you’re still in Irvingly?” she asked. “I confess, I don’t think I should often leave Hogsmeade if I lived there—to have everything one needs in so condensed a space must be horribly convenient, not like London where you have to journey half a mile just to find our sort!”

The city was not an ideal place for someone as thoughtful/anxious about day-to-day life as Desdemona