Marisa couldn't help being amused by the scene
that had taken place in Snape's office earlier that evening. It was so rare to see him ruffled, and so easy to get his back up with even the slightest insinuation of agreeing with a student's position on things. Well, she supposed that wasn't entirely
true, but it certainly had been in this case. She sat back in the most comfortable chair in Mundungus' office, waiting for him to return from wherever the hell he'd gone (probably the Hog's Head, the lush) in the hopes of eliciting a smoke, or a good drink, or perhaps both. Also, she wanted to know what he really thought about the journals, and what he would think when she said she was thinking of getting one herself.