"So this is what you really wanted to ask! Robin Sear, have you ever taken a close look at your own handwriting?"
"Huh?"
Luo Bin raised an eyebrow and looked at the desk, where the Blue Star Jellyfish research and observation report he had just handed in lay. Final exams were coming up soon.
This was probably his last private-tutoring assignment of second year. The words on the page... well, "neat" was about the only compliment he could give them. They weren't ugly, just unremarkable.
"Professor, my circles are round, my hooks are hooked, my curves are curved, and my right angles have to be exactly ninety degrees. There's nothing distinctive about it!"
"You're wrong. Your handwriting imitates the printed type in books. Its rigidity and neatness are precisely what make it distinctive! More than one professor has remarked on how easy it is to find your paper among dozens of others. A single glance at the handwriting is all it takes!"
After hearing Snape's explanation, Luo Bin nodded in realization. Everyone else's handwriting either galloped freely across the page, looked squat and cute, or had bold, powerful strokes. By comparison, his lack of distinguishing features had become his most distinguishing feature!
"So whoever wrote that challenge letter to the Show-Off was copying my handwriting?"
"What... exactly... does 'Show-Off' mean?"
Uh, how did I accidentally blurt out the nickname I'd been calling him in my head?!
"It means someone like Gilderoy Lockhart, who spends two hours dressing up every day, struts everywhere, and wears an incredibly fake smile. Everything out of his mouth is either praise for some past exploit of his or an excuse to dodge responsibility for his incompetence."
"Yes, I see! The handwriting in the challenge letter does resemble yours, but that is all it does—resemble it.