[Ah. Lack of eye contact, Will knows that rather well. Granted, he blames it on looking too much, seeing what doesn't really matter, but he doubts that's the case with Neville. He doesn't seem the type to know what sort of diseases can be shown in just the eyes. He just seems a little...bothered.
And trying not to show it.
Will makes no attempt to keep his eyebrows from lifting, face a little incredulous at the question. It's a little silly, he thinks, but he can't truly be blamed, can he? He'd just gone through a traumatic experience, was shoved in a new world that had others from his own here, others he did not have good experiences with, and was surrounded by Muggles. Will probably did similar things (questions that might have seemed stupid) when confronted with the knowledge of werewolves, of vampires, of everything else that he thought fiction. Gruesome murders? Bodies mutilated in terrifying, unheard of ways? Why not.
Wizards?What the hell?]
I have. Well, a few of them. [There's a shrug before he turns back to the stove. This little meal is a first, a chance for Neville to feel he's made a better impression. He's not going to take that from him, and he's sure not going to make him anything less than the best he can.] Let me see. Sirius Black. He likes dogs. I found one and...just didn't have the space. He was my first thought. They seem to get on just fine. [And he'd said something to Will that really, really, really gave him food for thought.] Professor Snape, obviously. Albus Dumbledore. Those are the ones I've talked to the most.
[This is A Lie. This is a big fat lie. He's talked to Albus quite a bit. He's talked to Barty Crouch Junior far more than he should have. He's seen his head, and he's seen Will's. Letting that be known to the kid who, apparently—
—he'd heard screaming. How many people had Barty tortured? Was the screaming he'd heard Neville's—
No, no, he couldn't tell him. Wouldn't until he absolutely had to.]
I've picked up a little terminology by this point. It's all very strange to me. I think Muggle makes us sound like some sort of...defenseless woodland creature.
[Is he a little bothered by the idea that, maybe in his own world, no matter how prepared he'd be, a gun, whatever, there could be people who would be able to take him down without doing much?
no subject
And trying not to show it.
Will makes no attempt to keep his eyebrows from lifting, face a little incredulous at the question. It's a little silly, he thinks, but he can't truly be blamed, can he? He'd just gone through a traumatic experience, was shoved in a new world that had others from his own here, others he did not have good experiences with, and was surrounded by Muggles. Will probably did similar things (questions that might have seemed stupid) when confronted with the knowledge of werewolves, of vampires, of everything else that he thought fiction. Gruesome murders? Bodies mutilated in terrifying, unheard of ways? Why not.
Wizards? What the hell?]
I have. Well, a few of them. [There's a shrug before he turns back to the stove. This little meal is a first, a chance for Neville to feel he's made a better impression. He's not going to take that from him, and he's sure not going to make him anything less than the best he can.] Let me see. Sirius Black. He likes dogs. I found one and...just didn't have the space. He was my first thought. They seem to get on just fine. [And he'd said something to Will that really, really, really gave him food for thought.] Professor Snape, obviously. Albus Dumbledore. Those are the ones I've talked to the most.
[This is A Lie. This is a big fat lie. He's talked to Albus quite a bit. He's talked to Barty Crouch Junior far more than he should have. He's seen his head, and he's seen Will's. Letting that be known to the kid who, apparently—
—he'd heard screaming. How many people had Barty tortured? Was the screaming he'd heard Neville's—
No, no, he couldn't tell him. Wouldn't until he absolutely had to.]
I've picked up a little terminology by this point. It's all very strange to me. I think Muggle makes us sound like some sort of...defenseless woodland creature.
[Is he a little bothered by the idea that, maybe in his own world, no matter how prepared he'd be, a gun, whatever, there could be people who would be able to take him down without doing much?
Maybe a little.]