Quirly peeked up over the rim of her sock basket, lip still wobbling as her big batty eyes darted between the professor’s not-quite-a-smile and Algamus’… well… not-quite-a-death glare. “Quirly is not bein’ hard on hersies,” she squeaked out quickly, straightening up like she hadn’t just dropped fifty stinkies onto the floor. “Quirly just wants everythingsies to be perfect!” Her ears twitched and her lashes fluttered. “But she will stay, oh yes yes, and be most helpingsies after, if Professorsies Leroy wants her to!”

At Algamus’s hurumph and that almost-tilt of his head, her face lit up like a sunrise and she scooped the remaining socks up at record speed, blinking back happy tears. He didn’t hit her with the broom!

The lesson pressed on, and Quirly stayed tucked near one of the big muggle boxes to keep out of the way. Her eyes followed their hands—what they grabbed, what they poked at, what they didn’t sort properly—and she did not gasp when that one boy started organizing robes by occasion. “Is not a dressing room, it’s laundriesies!” she whispered to herself, clutching her spatula like it might need to intervene.

And then came the Muggle tales. A potato, bless its lumpy little self, used to battle stainsies? How charming. How whimsicalsies. She loved it. She did! But—oh, no no nooooooooooooo—she glanced quickly to Algamus, who was already broom-sweeping and muttering about mayonnaisesies and disgrasies. Quirly snapped her mouth shut, nearly swallowed a grin, and nodded along seriously like these Muggle rituals were clearly nothing to be impressed by. Not at allsies.

She darted forward when the one student—Krittikasies, the pink-loving one!—began sorting with lovely logic and soft fingers. “Yes, yes! Good jobbies! Redsies with whitesies make pinksies, unless you wants them to!” she chirped, ears twitching in appreciated for both the sorting and earlier kindness.

The one with sunrise hair was sorting exactly like Professor Leroy said—colour, then fabric, then stainsies. Methodical, careful, respectful of the order of things. Order! Quirly’s little heart did a cartwheel. Then her eyes landed on another student and she shuffled her feet over to the young Mister.

“Yes, yes, Professorsies Leroy's boardsie says scrub scrub—bubble bubble, stain in troublesies!” she sang under her breath, mimicking the chant from the board. “Gives it a little rubby-rub, yes? Mugglesies say the paste works better when you singsies to it!” And just in case Algamus was still watching, she added in a lower tone, “Not that Quirly believes in such sillieses, of course...Quirly is bein’ very seriouses now, yes yes.”