Dorea, darling,

What hostility! Really, Dorea, I was being sincere, no need to get your hackles up. It's not like I've never talked to them, I have -- they're just mostly irritating, is all. There's Faustina -- she's just downright stuck up, something you wouldn't expect for a Hufflepuff -- and Eileen, you've got a point there, I'm not entirely sure I've ever heard her speak -- and believe me, if you shared a Common Room with Proserpine, you'd agree that she's annoying. I'm not trying to typecast prefects, by any means, I was merely ... observing that seventy-five percent of the female prefects in seventh year happen to be irritating. They're not irritating because they're prefects, they're merely irritating in addition to being prefects.

Barty Crouch means well, I'm sure, I've heard him lecture underclassmen about the use of Dark Arts, but he's still very overbearing, don't you find? Perhaps it's simply too much Slytherin for my taste; you must be more accustomed to incredibly high levels of ambition.

Come now, Dorea, surely I'm not that difficult to get along with? Six months is a long time, you know. Plenty can happen in six months. We may not be as different as you think, you know. It's true that I don't know a lot about you, and what I do know is largely rumour, but I think that makes it fair to assume that we are just as likely to have plenty in common as we are to be forever at odds.

Tuesday evening would be fine. After dinner? Shall we say eight o'clock?

Fair enough, if you don't wish to divulge personal information, I shan't pry. You only looked upset, is all, and it's been my experience that occasionally someone you don't know well is better to talk to than someone you do. To each his own. I hope you're feeling better, though.

And I'm never too hungry to notice a lovely lady in distress.

Sincerely,

Charlus

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