Pastel

“I don’t wear slippers.” Voldemort clipped out, resisting the temptation to slam his head against the nearest door.
“Yes you do.” Luna stated before taking another sip from her mug. “You’ll scuff the floors.”
“There were bloodstains on the floor!” Voldemort hissed, on the cusp of parseltongue.
Luna nodded as if that was a fair point. “There was blood on your feet too. But you cleaned them, and I cleaned my floors. Please don’t make me upset Mr. Dark Lord, I like clean floors.”