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Neville
Neville liked Sylvanus. Their parents had been arranging for them to play together occasionally as long as Neville could remember.
Sylvanus was quiet, but not quiet the way Neville was. Neville was quiet because he stumbled over his words, and he always said something silly when he opened his mouth. Sylvanus wasn’t nervous about talking, he just generally couldn’t be bothered to speak. He was very clever, Neville’s Gran said, already doing magic. Neville had even seen him walking up trees a couple of times.