[ Eighteen miles per hour is really nothing, not even for Remus, who has survived broomsticks and motorbikes and can, actually, run almost twice as fast as the hovercart, when he's on all fours. But broomsticks don't have buttons, and he didn't have to drive motorbike. It's different. But he's trying very hard to sound more collected in the aftermath of his aahhh. ]
It's a handicap, to make up for your bloody effortless—everything.
[ Case in point: the nose-length lead. Remus rolls his eyes as obviously as he possibly can, then leans forward over the controls, like maybe that will make his cart more aerodynamic. ]
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[ Eighteen miles per hour is really nothing, not even for Remus, who has survived broomsticks and motorbikes and can, actually, run almost twice as fast as the hovercart, when he's on all fours. But broomsticks don't have buttons, and he didn't have to drive motorbike. It's different. But he's trying very hard to sound more collected in the aftermath of his aahhh. ]
It's a handicap, to make up for your bloody effortless—everything.
[ Case in point: the nose-length lead. Remus rolls his eyes as obviously as he possibly can, then leans forward over the controls, like maybe that will make his cart more aerodynamic. ]