As soon as he’d realized everyone was going to know about it, Drew expected some amount of pureblood solidarity about the whole poisoning thing. That was happening to some extent. He was pretty sure people like Magdalena Adler, for example, were fully on Darlene’s side, and there was nothing anyone could say to budge them because that kind of pureblood stuck together. He had a vague sense that Dmitry was that kind of pureblood, but apparently Cetus Quidditch team solidarity outranked pureblood solidarity, or maybe just common sense prevailed here for the first time in history at RMI.
Either way Drew was feeling totally fine about talking to Dmitry. It was actually kind of easier with students like him who didn’t want to hear all about what happened. Dmitry didn’t want to talk about it (like Remy—Merlin bless her, she always dropped it when he said he was good, but he got the feeling she wanted him to talk more) or make conspiracy theories about it (like Eugene) or ask him if he wanted her to do a tarot reading to make sure he didn’t have any more surprises (like Natalia). He just said one thing about it, because you couldn’t not say anything, and then moved on.
Drew grinned. He could talk about Quidditch standings all day. Or, maybe not all day, but at least for a good while. “Yeah, we’re gonna crush Draco.” Lyra was the team to watch because their Beating team was a few twigs short of a broomstick, which made them unpredictable, which was a good trait to have in a Beater and a bad trait to have in an enemy Beater. Drew wasn’t sure about Aquila’s chances next year, with Raja graduating. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re Head Chaser next year,” he added, because Natalia was graduating and Nathan just wasn’t as good as Dmitry. “So you’re gonna take us to victory, right?”
Dmitry grabbed a gingerbread cookie. And he had a bite, and nothing happened. And Drew knew that instant effect from eating was not how most poisons worked, and very much not how his poison (he was going to have to unpack calling it “his poison” later, huh?) had worked, but it was reassuring anyway.
“Sure, yeah,” Drew said. He took a gingerbread man. It wasn’t animated like Aaron’s always were, but it had a nice snap to it. “Sorry, didn’t mean to use you as a food taster, but, you know,” he shrugged in a way that indicated but as you and everyone else very well knows, I was recently poisoned, so I’m not taking any chances, “it helped anyway.”