Henry needed a break.
He'd read until he threatened to give himself a headache, and he needed some kind of distraction. He had a vague idea of going to Ravenclaw to
smirk at congratulate Susan; thanks to
the letter she'd sent Camilla, both of them had been assured that
the trip Camilla had taken her on had provided successful results. As he had
told Camilla, the Stephen-Susan story was like something that Austen might have written, were she mentally ill. It was a diversion, a distraction, a light little something to offset the earnestness of their own situation.
The Ravenclaw door was, as usual propped open, and he stepped inside with a dry smile. He didn't see the point in having passwords and secret doors if nobody was going to use them. Wards were so much more useful.