Ready, Aim, Fire!

[Tilda MacFusty]

His smile reassured her, and his words did even more so. The Gryffindor felt a rush of gratitude for the boy standing in front of her, and she gladly returned his smile. Giggling, at his last comment, Tilda adjusted the knives in her hands, and looked down at them. "Well..." she began, and looked once from the target, to the knife and back to Mr Mohr. "Ah could teach ye how t'throw knives. It couldn't hurt..."

In reality, it could, yet Tilda was fortunate enough not to have obtained many injuries from the practise. Most of it being because she was in a secluded place. "But, then again, mah cousin's might be moer impressed with ye if ye took up a sword and fought a dragon." Tilda chuckled, shrugging her shoulders and sitting on a bale of hay.