"I might have been badly balanced on a broom too and Mum wanted me to try it for the first time with a real healer around," Miranda explains when he remarks on that.

"You poor thing. I suppose that makes sense. Do you own a broom? It's much nicer when it's not the school ones..."

"I don't have one, no. It would've been premature!"

"Well, now you can get one!"

"Maybe!"

"Why maybe?"

"Mum's probably already done my birthday shopping, and besides we live in the middle of London, so between school brooms being okay even if they're not great and not having a good space to fly at home it might be silly."

"Ooooh, what's living in the city like? We've only ever been for trips and I just want to - wander around, look at the Muggles, they're so interesting  - smelly, but interesting -"

"Mum loves the city, but I could take it or leave it. It does smell in London, although I don't think that's the Muggles so much as the vanishing charms and water conjuration that they don't have. It's nice having everything all close together, I already knew where to find all the shops I needed for my school things."

"Poor Muggles. Wish there was a way to give them that stuff."

"Statute of Secrecy."

"Yes, I know."

"You might be able to do it secretly but it'd be complicated."

"And you'd go to Azkaban for approximately forever."

"For setting up a magic well that didn't look magic?"

"...maybe not for that. I don't know the laws, but that might be okay."

"Yeah, you'd have to look it up first."

"I'll ask my father."

"Let me know what he says?"

"Of course!"

"Thanks!"

And their first week of classes concludes and it's the weekend! Which they are expected to spend diligently doing their homework, that's how to make a hardworking witch or wizard.

Miranda is innocently doing her homework in the common room when Hester Gaunt says, "Your father's a Mudblood, I bet."

Miranda looks up and raises an eyebrow. "You bet? How much gold do you owe me now, then?"

"Don't be dense."

"I'll take that advice in striving to be as little like you as I can -"

"Why, you little -"

And here Miranda switches to Igbo, raises her voice, goes on a tirade and barrels right over Gaunt's attempts to say anything.

He listens, entertained. Once this is starting to distract other students, "Gaunt, don't suggest someone's father is a Mudblood, that's appalling and makes it look like you don't know there are wizards outside England. Swan, either challenge her to a duel outside or be quiet."

Miranda has yet to invent the aerial duel. She subsides.

Gaunt huffs and swirls out of the room.