"What happened to Pansy?" Fabian asked, glancing askew at the Malfoy boy with just the barest hint of disgust in his eyes. He himself had been chasing after Anemone ever since he'd first laid eyes on her brightly-hued head upon which the Sorting Hat had been perched, happily babbling out her assigned House. He knew that Draco and Pansy Parkinson had been close throughout their school years... Was the pale-haired boy truly so fickle?

Harry jerked to an abrupt stop and whirled around, only to see Erin standing behind him. He drew in a deep lungful of air, trying to steady his nerves. After all, the last time he had heard someone else speak Parseltongue, years ago, he had almost died by way of basilisk...

"Erin!" He finally managed to grit out. "Don't... don't do that, okay?"

Unfortunately he heard himself speaking in Parseltongue, as well--it seemed that since she had spoken to him in that tongue, he had replied in the same language compulsively. Taking another deep breath, he careful enunciated in English:

"What's the matter...? Do you need something?"

Merlin's beard, it was awkward talking with her. Especially when they were alone like this. He was trying to get over his distrust of her, he really was. For the sake of the temperamental Anemone, if anyone. But with his history, it wasn't easy.

Maybe he'd better, though, if he didn't want to end up looking like a mole.