To make relativity easier for laypeople to understand, Einstein once used this analogy: sit beside a beautiful woman for an hour, and it feels like a minute; sit beside a stove, and a minute feels like an hour.
But Pomona felt that depended on the circumstances. For instance, sitting by a stove in winter, or being alone with Greta Kachilov for even a little while—the relationship in that analogy would be reversed.
"Oh~ This place is still so tacky." Greta said in a voice like the screech of a wildcat. "Why hasn't it been repainted?"
Pomona dearly wanted to tell her that the last person to do "painting" on the wall before her had been Ginny Weasley, possessed by Voldemort. She had left bloody words on the wall with rooster blood.
But she still smiled sweetly and replied, "It's a school tradition."
"This school certainly has a lot of traditions and rules." Having said that, Greta Kachilov twisted her slender waist and continued her "inspection."
Pomona counted from one to ten, then from ten back to one, before following her.
As usual, they arrived at the Grand Staircase. Greta Kachilov's main purpose was to see her own portrait.
She looked at it with great satisfaction, lingering for a full ten minutes, just as she had done back when she lived in the girls' dormitory.
"I really don't understand what there is to photograph about her!" Lily complained. "We all wear the same school robes."
"Maybe the hairstyles are different," the senior student "Gorgon" told her.
This time, Pomona got a close look at Greta Kachilov's golden hair. It truly was incomparably smooth; goblins would probably use it to make Galleons if they saw it.
"I heard Sirius came to the school." Greta Kachilov looked at Pomona and spoke in a