Instead of submitting and acknowledging the peculiarity and absurdity of the position she was in like the Young Black had expected, Grace retorted with a fiery counter-question of her own. For a second, Rigel was taken aback by the fire in the girl's (rather brilliant and vibrant, he noted) eyes, but he quickly reassumed his pristine Slytherin composure.
"My, my, what fire in those brilliant blue eyes. Is that the fabled Gryffindor pluck shining in there?"[/color] he mocked, clasping his hands behind his back and lowering his head towards She-With-The-Broom-Betwixt-Her-Legs in a chaffing bow as he began circling around her for a bit, pretending to inspect her as if she were some exotic specimen.
Then again, she was a Gryffindor, and Rigel hadn't interacted with one of those ever before coming to Hogwarts, and certainly not extensively in the week since.
Exotic enough, one supposed.
"Admirable, I suppose," he drawled in conclusion, as if done with his inspection.
Then the girl's dog returned to the scene and immediately Rigel's eyebrows shot up. His expression morphed into one of genuine interest, he watched the redhead interact with the fine and particularly docile canine specimen, and Rigel could not help but stare wide-eyed, his fondness for creatures piquing his interest. He watched She-With-The-Broom-Betwixt-Her-Legs interact with the dog, and then watched the dog as it followed the rope thrown by the girl threw the air with the intention of fetching it.
"Is that your dog?" he asked, unable to conceal the interest from his voice. "Why do you have a dog? We weren't allowed to bring any creature other than an owl, a cat, or a toad. How did you get the Headmaster to allow you to bring a dog to school? I wanted to bring an Augurey but I wasn't allowed!" At that last statement, Rigel's voice took on almost a whining tone, which even he knew was unbecoming of a Slytherin. Yet he couldn't help it.
The girl then spoke, and inquired after his classes. "Thursdays," Rigel answered simply, regaining his Slytherin-esque composure as much as he possibly could, though his eyes couldn't help but keep trailing the dog even as he spoke to her.
"And are you a good flyer?"
At that, Rigel finally returned his focus to his fellow Firstie, his brilliant grey eyes so reminiscent of the House of Black once again scrutinizing the girl, though this time seriously. It only took the average bit of Slytherin cunning to divine that the girl had no idea how to hold a broom and was beginning to see the merits of using him to teach her.
Despite the little voice in the back of his head that sounded eerily like his father's warning him not to associate with someone whose blood status he was not certain about, he decided to humor her.
Smirking, Rigel simply raised his palm towards the girl, aimed towards the broom she was holding. Unless the girl resisted, the broom should vibrate, before shooting into Rigel's hand effortlessly, who would continue smirking at her.
"Suppose I am, O She With The Broom 'Twixt Her Legs. What of it?"