Remington Burnham

Oct. 9, 2019, 10:30 p.m.

Good thing we don't teach it anymore

“It isn’t just a girl thing to want fries!” Remington laughed. “Don’t pull that gender crap. You can’t tell me you’ve never seen a plate of fries before and realized you just wanted a couple. Besides, I’m very particular about my fries, and Rocky Mountain International hasn’t made them exactly how I like them yet.”

Sometimes she had a craving for cajun seasoned fries and RMI just didn’t deliver. Every so often, curly fries were enough to satisfy her, but then she had weird food related feelings about eating something crazy unhealthy that she didn’t even really want to eat, so it wasn’t worth it in the end. And then she felt guilty for feeling anxious about eating in the first place - it led to lots of nonsense and only eating a couple of DJ’s fries was better.

This kind of stuff sucked, and thinking about it was not conducive to having a Happier, Better Sixth Year.

Thankfully, DJ started talking about his summer and it definitely sounded amazing. Part of her wondered why he hadn’t said this much in his letters. They’d been rather impersonal, almost like checking in to remind her that he existed more than responding to a friendship, but… she got that, too. Things between the two of them sucked last term. A lot of that was her fault. She chose not to feel hurt and instead smiled while he spoke.

“That’s great. What a glamorous time, filming a movie,” She’d been to other countries when her mom worked on Muggle anthropology projects. Australia hadn’t been part of their travels, though. Despite having all that love for traveling, she did feel particularly fond for Washington DC. It had to be all the Smithsonians. A good museum just did something for her.

“Wow. Do you think she’ll be the next Shirley Temple?” Remington asked while flagging down a house elf carrying a tray with avocado toast. “Did he get you to take dance classes, too?”

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