The Great Hall

A confirmation, no. It's more an allowance, her being permitted, if she really wants to. It's not as if he'd say yes, seeking it out eagerly, after all, since his disbelief is still strongly placed. Honestly, he's probably trying to convince himself of that, since actually meeting someone who thinks divination is real has sparked a slight, almost insignificant interest in the branch. Interesting people invoke interest in certain things, after all.
'I enjoy it though.' Why wouldn't he, being just about top of his class in the subject? But... His smug expression right now doesn't do much in his favour, aside from making his small smirk a little more prominent, and dragging a slightly aloof look into his eyes. His arms stretch above his head again, and he shifts in his seat, wriggling his shoulders just a little, as though uncomfortable with his situation, before settling himself down again, with a nod. 'Yeah, it was obvious. Don't talk to yourself so much next time.'
'I don't know, if you could feel yourself getting blown up, I'd say that'd be worse. But maybe you wouldn't, and you'd just have the heart attack anyway. Who knows?'

He'd prefer if she cut the stream of lies that she keeps spouting, about how it's a real thing, that has actual influence. In fact, he'd prefer not to think about this anymore as a whole, since it won't change a thing. Actually, mental discussion over, on his end anyway. Still, he has an appreciation for her deep-set belief, and her interest in it.
Again, that same lock of curled hair falls from where the rest of it is pulled up, and he sighs a little, giving up this time, and now only twirling it round a finger slowly, rhythmically and methodically, as if it were a tic that he kept up, and as if it were muscle memory. It's not, of course, but it's a carefully practiced and deliberate movement. Weird, but hey, at least it's nice hair, and dark brown colour is a lovely shade. But it doesn't feel right, really, so with quick movements, he pulls the tie out again, and runs a hand through it, tousling it. Nice.
An eyebrow raises at her remark and his head tilts, just a little. 'A lot of people do. And what gave it away was your general lack of lying ability, and how utterly obvious you made it with the way you worded things. Sorry to break it to you.' If he were someone else, he might snicker, but he's just him, so he won't.
'Nah, I'd definitely say it depends on a lot.'

He can definitely believe that lying doesn't come easily to her. He could have even made the conclusion himself very quickly, seeing as he can pretty much see straight through her, and would likely be able to even without his impressive empathy and his ability to read people. Nearly every word that escapes her mouth is obviously the truth or not, no matter how hard she tries to hide it with piles upon piles of terrible lies.
His elbow rests on the table, and his hand settles into his chin again, as he stares once more, though this time seeming... A little more judging. It's almost as if he can really see right through her, and he seems to disapprove, before his lips curl up into something like a smirk. 'You want to be able to deceive people? That's a ridiculous notion, you know. Why would I teach anybody how to be anything but honest? The only thing I can do... Is tell you what gives it away. What you do with that information is up to you.' It's almost as if he's found a loophole in his own moral code and dictation, as if that's his specific purpose anyway.
An eyebrow arches slowly as she stands and informs him of her choices, before his shoulders raise and drop in a slight shrug. 'I don't care for it, so there's no reason to tell me, you know. It's just a waste of breath, if I were to be completely honest.' He really... Really doesn't care about it, and the only reason he's been talking on the subject is because it was interesting conversation in arm's reach.
'No. Everything depends on something else, so everything will always have a different outcome based on what it depends on. You can't tell, until things happen, really.'

Giovanni glanced up at the bird, recognizing it to be his Aunt's. "No doubt news of Tessa," he told Nicolas, who was nibbling at a pastry. "We can all read it together in the Room of Requirement, I think."

Giovanni raised an eyebrow, wondering if the owl had possibly dropped a few letters. Still, he opened his own, taking a moment to skim the text. "Leo, would you go give Ricardo his letter?"

Ricardo too was busy flipping through an Advanced Potions Textbook to notice anything or anyone, including food. His plate sat untouched, a decent prop for the textbook. He looked exhausted, dark circles under his eyes as they flitted across words.

Ricardo turned around, hiding a yawn behind a hand. "Oh. Uh, thanks, Leo." He took the letter, studying it briefly through bleary eyes before opening it.

"Huh," Ricardo mumbled after a moment. "I'm glad that she's alright. And dad went to deliver the presents! I'll write back after class today. I can't believe it slipped my mind not to write until now."

"Probably. I doubt Tessa would just ignore the others like that. Especially Bianca. They're so close."