If you agree with me, I must be wrong – that’s Caelum’s general attitude towards anyone in his age group; they’re all soft in the head, coddled as they are at Hogwarts, and he can’t bear to entertain their opinions. When he met Harry, he had no expectations – what could a halfblood, a half-mud, know of the subtle art? But one day, as she needles him about potions theory, he catches himself thinking, hmm, maybe we can both be right – and isn’t that a first?