Concerns for the feelings of others was not high on Cad's priority list, however, the realisation of his potential isolation at the end of this year as his usual buddy group moved on, had made him feel like he needed to make some efforts with those who would remain in the school longer term. He hadn't specifically decided to 'target' Sisse, but sensing the dissent between Sisse and the rest of Gillenwaters little harem he had made a special effort to pay polite attentions to the 5th year Gryffindor prefect. When he had heard, through the hushed whispers of the table that her mother was dead an offer of a walk seemed like an easy win.

The hastily scribbled note, and the invitation for a walk would seem sensitive, the sort of thing a fornlorn poetic type might indulge in - a sojourn away from either the overly sympathy noises or the oppressively awkward silence of the common room. The owlry was always cool and quiet, he liked it as a place to think, the hooting of the owls was a nice background noise, and he liked to check on Deimos, his short eared Owl. He heard footsteps on the stairs, and gave a chooting noise and Deimos flew to his arm, as Miss Thompsett entered the room.

She looked pale, paler than usual that was, the sort of paleness that comes with exhaustion. 'Good Evening Miss Thompsett,' he said formally, with a grown up nod in greeting. 'How are you feeling?' it was something he had heard his father ask someone at a funeral once.

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