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[theshabbiestofmen]

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[theshabbiestofmen]

A good deal happier and more well adjusted, I should think.

[doggedly]

Happier?

[theshabbiestofmen]

Well. Perhaps more studious.

[doggedly]

And thus unhappier. I'm glad we've reached this conclusion: studying makes you unhappy.

[theshabbiestofmen]

Oh, yes, well, let me go and burn all my books, why don't I.

[doggedly]

Oh, no, let me! You know I've always wanted to--

[theshabbiestofmen]

You can't, anyway, they've all been left behind. I've had to content myself with stories from the library here-- which are fascinating, but very strange.

[doggedly]

Oh, well. S'ppose I could set sights on that library...

[theshabbiestofmen]

It's digital, Pads, and I'm starting to think they did that just because you were coming.

[doggedly]

[He heaves a sigh.]

Awful. I hate the future. Everything is unfair here.

[theshabbiestofmen]

Considering we're sailing among the stars, I shouldn't think it's all bad.

[doggedly]

[Miserably:] No motorbikes.

[theshabbiestofmen]

[Briskly:]

You can fly on your motorbike when we go home.

[doggedly]

Yes, but it's not the same as having it here!

[theshabbiestofmen]

Perhaps you'll get it in your locker, then.

[doggedly]

If they shove a bloody motorbike in my locker, I'm going to be really upset. That'll scratch it for sure.

[theshabbiestofmen]

Are you so determined to be sulky!

[doggedly]

I'm not sulking! Pardon me if I'm not precisely thrilled by the thought of my motorbike arriving with great gashes in it!

[theshabbiestofmen]

It's just paint, Sirius. You could fix it quite easily with a wave of your wand.

[doggedly]

Forget it. You'd never understand, Moony. You don't have a motorbike. You don't have the same feelings for it.

[theshabbiestofmen]

It's an inanimate object!

[doggedly]

An inanimate object that I happen to love very much! It's like--oh, I dunno, what's comparable for you. A library, I suppose.

[theshabbiestofmen]

[He understands despite himself, and so limits himself to pursing his lips.]

All right. But still, wouldn't it be better to have it slightly scratched than not to have it at all?

[doggedly]

[A SIGH.]

Yes, and I detest your constant optimism.

[theshabbiestofmen]

I'm hardly optimistic compared to you at times. Or perhaps madman would work better-- you're the one constantly confident we'll survive our O.W.Ls, you know.