Comforting Her Worked

On Saturday morning, Cordelia sat at the Hufflepuff table, wiping away tears.

She made no sound. Her head was bowed low, one hand holding down a page while the other brushed her eyes every so often. Her silver-blond hair hung beside her face, and her eyes were rimmed red.

Gavin sat down beside her with his breakfast.

After McGonagall had led Lockhart out of the Great Hall the night before, the whole school had talked about it for half the night. Dumbledore hadn't come looking for Gavin—

Snape seemed to have covered his tracks perfectly. Hermione and Ernie had figured out the Veritaserum, but as comrades-in-arms, they hadn't breathed a word. If anything, they both thought the whole affair was thrilling.

Two Ravenclaw girls had torn up their treasured signed photographs while crying, then regretted it and crouched by the fireplace, trying to piece the glossy scraps, now no bigger than grains of rice, back together.

Cordelia wasn't exactly a Lockhart fan, but she had at least read his books seriously. He had even handed her a complete set himself at Flourish and Blotts.

Gavin watched her for a while and reached what he considered a sound conclusion.

"Are you upset about Lockhart?"

Cordelia froze. She looked up, gave him a glare through red eyes, then held up the book so he could see its cover.

There was no smiling Lockhart on it, nor any werewolves, vampires, or banshees.

Only a dimly lit British manor—

The Remains of the Day.

Gavin had read the novel in his previous life. It was about a British butler who suppressed his true feelings in pursuit of impeccable professional dignity and loyalty, only to miss out on the love of his life.

It was well written, and the ending was genuinely sad.

But he