He glanced around at the sound of approaching feet but was bewildered to find it wasn’t one of his friends, or even another Gryffindor who was approaching. Instead, Pansy Parking was practically marching towards him, a determined expression on her face and a mean look in her eye. For a moment, Harry considered sitting up straight and preparing himself for some kind of confrontation - but then he remembered he was thirty-five years old and hadn’t worried about bullies for nearly two decades; he wasn’t about to start now. Instead, he slurped his coffee and watched with interest as Pansy swung herself onto the bench in front of him, dropping her bag onto the tabletop with a thud.