[Funny, that's how Ron was fond of him, as a particularly dimwitted pet. Just seems weird, now, knowing he's just about the worst kind of traitor Ron can possibly imagine.

(At least, he tells himself, he never stabbed Harry in the back. Just left him to do the hardest thing he could on his own. Not remotely the same.)

He shrugs, fiddling with the glass between his hands. He'd feel a lot more comfortable if it was a wand, and also if he was cursing Lucius' Malfoy's face off, but beggars can't be choosers and all that.]

Think you might be. We haven't been that far north. Not for a while, anyway. [It's a Scottish name, but Morag didn't sound like a highlander, not really. Ron abruptly wishes he'd spent more time with the other Houses, outside of classes. Only Hogwarts never really made much sense, doing that.]

Seems like a nice idea. Staying, that is. Know any rooms for letting?

[So that he can cross off places to absolutely not go to.]