In Albus Potter’s head, that strange evening, everything makes perfect sense. This girl will listen to him pour his heart out while he tries to get over Nyssa. It’s fate!

Ok, not fate. But something like that. Sure, why not? He only needs to find this girl.

But how do you find a muggle who doesn’t seem to take a liking in introducing herself? 

„You’re clearly stuck in a rut. I mean, I caught you drinking hot chocolate, while scribbling down into a flowery notebook. You know who does that?“
Albus tries to jump in, but it’s clear it’s a monologue.
„Only old people and those who have nothing going on. Even other people who write for a living work in a more exciting enviroment. But you-you are like a cat lady... without the cats.“
„Well, thank you for that.“