If she'd known she was going to lose everybody at graduation, she'd have paid a little more attention.  She should've been befriending first years all along.  They weren't going anywhere for a while.

“You are lucky.  You know that?"  She shook her head.  Nothing stuck to that kid.
“Not lucky.  Good.”  He smirked. 
Victoire wished she could be either. 

There wasn't a rug big enough.

Careful, wouldn't want to make this into a thing.

“I think its more important to know how far you are willing to go rather than how far you are not willing to go,” Micah returned, “Eliminates any confusion that might arise in the heat of the moment.”
Victoire sat back in her chair and crossed her legs. “I’m pretty sure home is where I want to go now.”

Oh, sweet Merlin, her near future consisted of a box with holes punched in it, she just knew it.

The outsider.  Yes, that was her.  Freezing her bum off on the roof.  Where could she get a darn pair of footed pyjamas? A t-shirt and sleep shorts didn’t cut it for people prone to late night freak-outs. 

Couldn't she go back to worrying about someone else's drama? Much safer that way.

She'd convinced herself she could be happy with his friendship.  Merlin, she was wrong.

“That, my dear, I cannot presume to tell. Experience administers the test first, you see, and the lesson after.”

The Ministry really should ban parents from using any word found in a dictionary to brand their children at birth. No one wanted that kind of pressure.

 She was a ruddy open book today, only she seemed the sole person who hadn’t read the latest chapter.

 "You know a lot about billywigs, then?" 

Owen shrugged. "I liked the sting; I learned the bugs."