About ninty-seven different emotions flooded through me at one time, which, as you can imagine, was quite overwhelming. I'm a Slytherin. We are taught to feel two things: Irritation and anger.

The last diabolical plan that I had like this had involved peanut butter, one of Ava’s partially evil nannies, and some vomit flavored Bertie Botts beans. Needless to say, it didn’t exactly go how I wanted.

"You're in the Slytherin dorms. You act as if screams of torture are anything out of the ordinary."

If it was possible to die of shame then I’d be buried six feet underground with worms eating away at my rotting corpse. 

“I threw the first curse, Professor. I don’t think Potter would want to admit that he got hexed by a girl.”

 “You're not fooling anyone, Mose, and neither is he.” 

And perhaps I was nostalgic for how we used to be or maybe it was the wine that was making my head feel fuzzy, but suddenly I found myself turning to him and telling him something else that only James knew. “I’m thinking about applying to be an auror.”