Large dark frames shaded her eyes as the sound of someone coming to the courtyard alerted her to his approach. That smug little smirk which had been lurking near her mouth all along finally showed itself, curving those perfectly glossed lips. But then the smile froze. His manner was all off. A tiny frown etched its way onto her brow as she took a second to appraise him, something she hadn't actually felt the need to do in a few months now. Yes. There was something most definitely wrong with the way he was approaching. That frozen smirk thawed and disappeared, all her inner defenses immediately prepping for some sort of attack or refusal. This was not just another meet-up where they mutually benefited from the others company. Why, exactly? Had he suddenly found some new tail to chase, then? Was that it? An icy wave swept through, hardening her expression just a touch as the thought had her preparing for rejection. Yes indeed, preparing to face it with an expression of utter boredom and nonchalance while her insides would surely wither with the news.<br/><br/>That fierce sense of self-preservation was kicking into high gear as he greeted her. What? No kisses? Not even a touch? The girl's arms crossed in front of her, unconsciously betraying the insecurities which were looking more and more like cold hard truth. This was the reason she hadn't pushed for something more from him. This was why she still curbed her own opinions on the situation.<strong>"Hmm..."</strong>The reply she gave him was not any more or less than most of the 'lesser' students at Hogwarts would have received, though Merlin knew he'd gotten far warmer greetings from her in the past. But his entire attitude was throwing her off, putting her on her defense, because a - it was not what she was used to from him and b - it wasn't exactly reassuring to begin with. Blue-greens watched him, guarded, listening warily to his next phrase. Oh. Was that all? His parents needed him for a couple days?<br/><br/>V gave a mental eyeroll at all the drama over such a small thing. Did he seriously think she was so needy as to be mad that he needed to go home for a couple days? Hardly. She was not that type of girl. Those pink-frosted lips opened to tell him she'd see him when he got back when he added that last little clause. He......he wasn't coming back? Like.....ever?<br/><br/>Her partially opened mouth closed softly and one manicured hand reached carefully up to push the Ray Bans back into her hair so that she could properly stare at him and decipher whether or not this was some idiotic joke that he considered to be funny. A frown etched its way in, creasing the space between her eyebrows as she stared at him, understanding his words and yet, hoping that she had mistaken the meaning behind them. But....but... The different conflicting emotions flickered in her irises like the flame of a votive candle. Not coming back? Anger, confusion, and pain reflected back at the Ravenclaw with a clarity that very few ever witnessed...and then Valera closed her eyes for a moment and hurriedly pulled that mask back in place, just knowing that if she didn't she would only look foolish. When she opened them again, the expression there was distant, as though this was all a story someone was telling her...and a rather boring one at that. She would not be able to survive this conversation, even with her mask, if she let the pain that was lingering inside direct everything. So instead, she let Anger hold the reins. He was leaving her. He wasn't ever coming back. And he'd waited until a few<em>hours</em>before he left to tell her anything at all. Well fine. Clearly she was something on his list of things to check off. Fine. He could consider her little box x-ed out. Apparently she'd been sufficiently interesting enough to elicit a small token of farewell, but<em>boring</em>enough that he wasn't even going to consider coming back. Well fucking FINE. Who cared? Huh? Clearly not him. So why should she?<br/><br/>Flat blue eyes took on a hint of chill as the anger inside bubbled it's way to a slow boil. Gracefully, she rose to her feet, chin tilted up slightly in defiance, though in all actuality there was very little to be defiant about. The short phrase which next fell from her lips might as well have been made of ice as well: short, clipped, and dusted far more heavily in the frosty Russian accent of her everyday speech than was usual.<strong>"Well....that's that, then."</strong>