This is a pureblood, of course.

*There's no lift to her voice, but there's still a tiny iota of a question in there, much less friendly than the needle about the poetry. She had heard about Evan's predilections at school.

But that thought leads her to another thought, one that's more closely related to the middle-aged couple in front of them--to precisely who and what they are--and her wand hand jerks slightly. The flaying spell jerks as well, the strips coming off wider now, more clumsily, less prettily, like wallpaper.*