Not one of his talents, no, just like timing and not making an ass of himself were not among his talents. In fact, even Desdemona, who was so utterly besotted with him, had a difficult time confirming that he had any talents off a broomstick, a sort of uselessness that inexplicably made him all the more appealing to her. She was doomed.

“I—I would be uncomfortable,” she said diplomatically, still reluctant to meet his eye, “accepting any such proposal without my mother’s assent. I might be a quidditch player, Mr. Pettigrew, but I was s-still raised to be a young lady.”

And Mama would say no, and Dezzie’s heart would be shattered, but this was clearly such a bad idea that it would be for the best, in the long run.