Ron is bad at remembering to do closing tags!!
The red from her cheeks had not faded away, and the desire to squirm in embarrassment was overpowered only by her inability to stop shuddering, though the movements were small and more controlled now. She hadn't known what was going to tumble out of her mouth, but she ought to have known it was going to be mortifying.
Through all that muddled emotion, Penelope couldn't help but feel a small sense of pride that a useless gift had been appreciated.
She was still shaking.
Without thinking, Penelope let go of his hand to reach for the foul-tasting drink before her, and swallowed deeply.
"It's your birthday," she said again, wondering weakly what she was getting herself into, but the same selfish voice in her head, which had gotten her to sit in this very booth with this very boy in the first place, refused to let her sense overcome her and run.
She would worry about that later, and did not doubt that she would. Instead, Penelope met his eyes with her own large ones.
"It's whatever you want."
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