Lorna and this summer were not on good terms. Usually, she had liked the holidays, even if it meant doing chores and running errands for her mother, because she also got to roam about where she liked, wander about Hogsmeade as she pleased. But usually, she would be going back.

If she were part-human, she certainly hadn't seen any effects of it. The smell of blood did nothing to her, she wasn't particularly pale, wasn't short and swarthy and shrewd, wasn't especially appealing to men and boys (although she supposed her mother would be pleased if that were so). So - she was to be turned out of Hogsmeade because she didn't know, couldn't say for sure. Four years ago, Lorna hadn't known about Hogwarts at all, would have been pleased for just one year. She supposed a lot had changed since then.  

Still, it was August and she was no closer to coming to terms with the prospect of not going back, though she knew she should. Instead, she had tramped off on a long walk, with furious strides in spite of her meandering course. She'd just nearly barged straight into a broad-shouldered washerwoman, who looked as though she were going to shout her down, but Lorna was not in the mood for a lecture, so she dashed off at a faster pace. A little further down the street, she spotted a girl she knew* and, sufficiently distracted, Lorna tossed her a wave and jogged on over. "'Lo, Morgana," she began, once she'd caught her breath. Morgana had already started working, she'd heard. "How're things?"

Morgana perked up a little at the sight of Lorna. Well, at least the day was improving somewhat. There weren't many people that she thought of in a friendly manner mainly for their attitude towards her but Lorna was one of the all right sorts. She returned the wave and leaned back as she waited for the girl to finish making her approach.

"Allo, Lorna," she replied. "Things are all right, I suppose except I work now. At the hospital tea room. It's an all right job." It was hardly her dream job but then again, Morgana had never ever had one of those. This was her lot in life and she had always just grudgingly accepted for all that she was more than fond of the boy she was set to marry. "How about you? D'you get to go back?"

It didn’t take her much longer to reach Morgana. The other girl seemed talkative enough that she wouldn’t mind a bit of company, so, after glancing over her shoulder for any sign that the washerwoman had taken up chase - didn’t look like it - Lorna leant back against the wall, sliding slowly down it to settle beside Morgana on the stoop and catch her breath.

“The tea room, huh?” Lorna echoed, thinking about her mother’s front for the brothel and the Painted Lady. She imagined the hospital tearoom would be - quieter, perhaps? White-walled, probably; sombre? Sterile? She didn’t think she’d ever set foot in there. It was - well, she suspected they’d pay fairly, at least. It wasn’t the sort of thing that sounded like it’d spiral into a career. “What made you choose there?” She piped up.

She asked because she was curious. Curious, and because Morgana’s question in return was still needling at her, enough that she didn’t like to say it aloud. Lorna picked at some dirt under her fingernails for a moment before she thought she’d better get it over and out with - she shook her head jerkily. Well, at least she wasn’t the only one who’d have left Hogwarts this early. “Doesn’t look like it,” she muttered. “Not unless some bastard calling himself my father shows up on the doorstep for a summer miracle,” she added, with a snort. It was probably too much to ask, even for a miracle - whoever her father was, there was no chance he’d ever have known it.

Ah. "I see," Lorna declared. "Could be worse, I guess," she offered a shrug about the job as if it say sounds decent, give off a more positive air than she really felt about hearing that. So those were the prospects for having no OWLs, let alone NEWTS, that was it. Work in a tea room! Lorna didn't know what she dreamed of being, hadn't ever really let herself think about her future - maybe something to do with Charms? maybe something that might let her travel? - but if one took reality into account, then she supposed either she could put up a fight for working at the hospital tearoom, or, more likely, wind up still attached to her mother's brothel. Which was - well, it was a business well enough, if the furthest you could get from respectable. And she shouldn't be fussy about things. She'd never had the chance to be fussy, before.

She gave Morgana a sighing smile at the next question. "Mmhmm," Lorna murmured, rolling her eyes in as restrained anger as she could make it. "Don't have the records. Don't have any signs of being half-something either, but I don't s'pose anyone cares about that." Wouldn't people be able to tell? (She supposed it was lucky she wasn't half Veela; imagine the field day her mum would have, to have that advantage at hand!)

"And you? Because of the ban, or no?" She furrowed her brow. She couldn't see how the ban would make sense, since even if they were poor, the Gaunts were a pureblooded family, as they liked to say. So surely they'd have the records.

"I'm sorry," Lorna said genuinely. Hogwarts was a lot of money, and it was the reason lots of people left. She wouldn't deny that it must seem worse right at this moment, though, considering Morgana might've got past the ban, if not for her father.

She hadn't met Mr. Gaunt, but she presumed he was an arsehole, always had. Didn't know why; she just got the impression.

That said - "I'm sure my mum's glad to save the cash, too." Tessa Van Patten had a head for money like no one else, after all.  Lorna let out a laugh, but kicked stubbornly at the loose corner of a cobblestone. "But really, you'd think we've got more need of NEWTs than all the girls that'll just leave school to be married, wouldn't you?" (Morgana might be one of them in, in that - but she'd not be any richer even if she did get married sooner rather than later.)