Could he stop calling him kid? Sure, he was still waiting for his long overdue growth spurt, and okay, he was a scaredy cat despite the fact that he'd been sorted into Gryffindor, of all houses - though he still hoped, prayed that the Sorting Hat had a good reason to do so - but he was thirteen. Didn't that count as a teenager? Pre-teenager?
"Psh," he couldn't help but huff at Ewan's comment as he glimpsed inside the sinister room warily. "The door wasn't locked, so clearly there's no reason why we shouldn't be here." Right? Unless someone had forgotten to lock it. Although he'd only spent one year at Hogwarts, he'd learned very early that the castle was most certainly not to be underestimated.
As the boy introduced himself, he turned to look at him with a slight nod of his head. "I'm Daniel," he said, snickering at the memory of Ewan's grandpa laundry jokes. He'll give him that. "Second year Gryffindor, and terribly bad teller of jokes." Maybe he could learn a thing or two from the younger Ravenclaw.
Now that introductions were out of the way, he stepped inside the much darker room, before turning to Ewan. "You coming?" |