Jesús did not believe Williams one bit. He'd tried, several times in the past, but always came to the same conclusion: she was not to be trusted. Like most of the staff, her untrustworthiness was only amplified by the frequency in detentions that they handed out to the sixth year. While some (most of them) of the punishment was merited, the other detentions were not. Still, he relaxed his face, and eased back into the chair. See? Friendly. "That doesn't make sense. At all." How could she not want to give him detention but felt that it was necessary sometimes? "Don't give me detention at all, if you truly feel that way."
If she wanted to believe they shared common interests, then Jesús would let her. Who was he to stop someone (however deluded) from their daydreams and wishes? "Surprising," he said quickly, "but also very expected. You do teach History of Magic, so I'm not surprised you would delve into activism as well." Not that he believed her. As nice as she looked Jesús knew the truth (or, he would come to know it, anyway, once he gathered more information.) He watched, with mild interest, as she walked over and watered a plant. So normal, so kind, so incredibly fake. He would steel himself against her kindness (she was good, very, very good,) and would remember that in the end he could only really trust himself. And Valerie.
"Impact the world and shatter its foundations."
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