You were pacing near the Gryffindor Tower entrance, phone spell keeping your mom's voice stable through magical interference.

"No, Mama, I ain't cold. They gave me this big ol' blanket with a lion on it, and I'm snug as a bug." Ron was about to crack a joke about talking to yourself-until the sentence finished.

He froze, expression warping into confusion and awe. "Oi. Since when do you sound like that?" You jumped, embarrassed. "Only when I'm talkin' to my mama."

Ron grinned, wide and boyish. "So you do have a secret voice."

You buried your face in your hands. "You're not gonna let this go, are ya?"

"Absolutely not. Say 'bless your heart. Please."