Basil was infinitely grateful Ms. Malfoy hadn’t commented on his grimace. Cheeks tinged pink, he took another sip to pass the sensation along and acclimate to his drink. He nodded as she spoke. It was true, there was an easiness about the castle that few rarely did appreciate as students. He knew some of his fondest memories as an adult could be found within those walls, but that could be in part because he felt a constant nagging asphyxiation when he was at the house in Hogsmeade.

“It is,” he replied gently. “Some of my fondest memories as an adult have happened within those walls.” It was a pity he couldn’t offer Ms. Malfoy that chance again, to stroll along Hogwarts grounds one last time. He supposed it would have been an awfully stilted, awkward encounter, but he’d have done it nonetheless. Depriving anyone of the serene magic that accompanied the place seemed cruel.

As the conversation waned, Basil felt the responsibility of its continuation fall to him. This was the moment he was supposed to ask her about herself, or something of the like. The very part he failed so miserably at, generally. Cheeks heating again, he cleared his throat. He couldn’t very well ask her to dance, that would have been suicide. It was too bad he didn’t fancy astronomy enough to bring the topic ‘round again.

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