"I am not actually someone who thinks muggles are lesser or anything," he says. "And I think they might say that we could take spaceships if we wanted them. Or something."

"Then I'm not rubbing the fact that magical people are crazy and don't want spaceships in their faces either," she retorts, grinning. "Besides, they gotta make up their minds, either Middle Ages muggles were a threat to them from whom they must hide or they can take twentieth-century muggle technology from their hands, can't have both."

"Yeah," he says, probably agreeing.

"Well, okay, I am going to kick this Statute of Secrecy in the butt and get rid of it." Pause. "...can lost memories be restored?"

"… I don't think so, but I'm not sure."

"Well. Then it's even more important that we get rid of the Statute," she says fervently.

"I mean, yeah, but the main bit is all the magical convenience stuff. It's sort of creepy to remove memories, feels like a breach – of rights or something, but that's… a smaller issue?"

"It's a breach of identity! I am my memories!"

"… Yes," he says. "So am I. But. I'm pretty sure I'm still me if I lose ten minutes of memories, and I'm still me if I lose a day of memories, and all the way back down to – probably months or years? Depending?"

"I'm not. I'm eleven, if I lose a month of memories I'm super different, if I lose a whole year that's someone else!"

"I mean, go back three years and I'm quite different, but I'm still recognizably acting similarly – but that's different from like a week ago where it's still mostly me just not having spoken to you and whatever?"

"I wasn't acting similarly three years ago. Not at all. I was eight. I was really different."

He would shrug but tape-measure.

"Weren't you? Like. You were eight. I was playing with dolls, then."

"I mean, it was three years ago. I was helping with small chores and visiting my mum as she did protests and trying to listen to everyone I could and waiting until I could do magic and reading."

"I like you."

"Most people don't just say that," he responds, slightly amused.

"Wanna start counting the ways I'm unlike most people?"

"I've got three – four – nope, five so far."

"...care to share them?"

"You can sit and wait, now, dear," says Madam Malkins.

"Thanks," he says, moving to do as such.

To Sadde: "You're a witch – wizard? – anyway that was point two as well, and a metamorphmagus, and what I said just now, people wouldn't usually say that, and you also care about the statute." Pause. "Add a sixth, the memories thing, I think you're a bit more – definite about that than most people."

"I'm also a muggleborn, which is unlike most magical people," she adds.

"– And we could be pedantic and say looking female and having brown hair is unlike most people, use combinations of attributes."

She giggles. "Fine, I'm not that special then I guess."

"I hardly even know you yet," he says. "– What did you say your name was again?"