Chapter 7
Almost
“Hermione… I don’t think… I can… feel my… arms anymore,” Harry said as he tried to catch his breath through Hermione’s bear like hug. She was, after all pinning his arms to his sides and his fingers were beginning to go numb.
“Oh…” she replied sheepishly as she let go and stepped back, giving Harry an appraising look.
The warmth that had radiated from within Harry not moments before quite suddenly dissipated, and though the air was filled with summer heat, curiously he felt cold.
“Harry you look a mess!” she said as her worried expression returned in full force.
“Yeah…err…” Harry began as he dropped his eyes to the floor and ran his right hand through his hair. It was true, he decided, he probably did look pretty bad. His hair felt even more unruly than usual “ and a bit greasy. He hoped that it didn’t resemble Snape's.
“Well… you see…” he began but it seemed his stomach had other plans than to talk because at that moment it chose to growl loudly.
Harry hurriedly placed both palms over his angry stomach to stifle the noise as he began to feel heat rush into his face in embarrassment.
“Oh I’m sorry!” she exclaimed, sounding more worried than before. “You must be starving!”
Hermione stepped back out into the hall and picked up a medium sized cardboard box Harry had not noticed prior. Before he could question what it was, he had to jump out of her way as she hurried past him and set the box on the edge of his bed.
“Harry, what happened to your desk?” she asked, noticing the pile of unopened letters and dust up against the wall next to the nightstand.
“Well… umm… It’s kind of hard to explain really…” Harry began awkwardly, again avoiding Hermiones’ questioning stare as he rubbed the back of his neck with his right hand and pocketed his left.
“Never mind “ you can tell me after you’ve had a bite to eat,” she impatiently stated as she waved her hand in the air.
Hermione returned her attention to the box and shooed Crookshanks to the head of the bed where he promptly curled up into a ball on Harrys’ pillow and stared at his mistress while she removed one tinfoil wrapped item after another and set them lined up at the foot. She grabbed one of the smaller round-shaped ones and turned back to Harry handing it to him.
Harry took it and upon unwrapping it saw what it was.
“Mince pie?” he asked with wide eyes.
His stomach gave another growl and forgetting his manners - took one large bite; taking half into his mouth at once. Hermione simply beamed at the sight.
“Mmmm… this is great Hermione, wherever did you get them?” Harry hungrily asked while crumbs of various sizes of breading escaped his mouth and he pointed at the other same sized and shaped packages lying across his bed.
“Oh… well… I’ve been learning to bake this past week… d-do you really like it Harry?” she asked nervously, searching Harrys’ eyes for any discernable sign that he didn’t.
Harry could not help but chuckle and grin broadly at the look on Hermione’s face, until she abruptly broke eye contact and started staring at the windowpane, biting her bottom lip. Harrys’ grin fell in an instant.
“Hermione… are you completely nutters?! This is wonderful! This is better than at Hogwarts… it’s the best I ever had!” he exclaimed “ for he felt sure that it truly was the best he had ever tasted.
Hermione probed Harry’s eyes once more and he was intent on focusing all his sincerity into them. She must have believed him for the sparkle returned to her eyes and she stopped biting her lower lip “ which now glistened wet, looking softly swollen and puckered.
“Harry!” Hermione half yelled.
Her grin appeared to be even broader than before, and she was blushing furiously - she seemed rather jubilant.
“What?” Harry asked, now more bewildered than ever.
“I said - ‘thank you “ you really know how to boost my confidence’.”
His stomach growled once more before he realized that he had quite forgotten about the other half of mince pie still in his hand. In answer, he stuffed the remaining half into his mouth and replied.
“You’re the best at everything you do Hermione, and now you’re a great cook too,” he said matter-of-factly, then added, “May I have another?”
“Of course Harry!” Hermione happily answered as she grabbed two more mince pies off the bed, which she unwrapped before handing them to an eager Harry.
He took another huge bite out of one and motioned for her to sit on the edge of the bed, which she did “ apparently happy to see him eating.
“I was bored out of my mind this past week. Normally my parents would have me helping them at the office - but for whatever reason they wouldn’t let me, so I asked Mum to lend me her old cook books. I heard you haven’t been eating… and I always wanted to have a go at cooking, so… Anyway, there are a lot of really good recipes I’d still like to try, though I had made an absolute disaster of breakfast, I don’t think I’ll attempt it ever again - I nearly burned down the house!” Hermione finished quietly laughing at the memory.
Harry finished off the first of the two pies and bit into the second before he absent-mindedly declared, “That’s no problem, I can make our breakfasts.”
Hermione sat silently and gave Harry a look he couldn’t quite place when he suddenly remembered something she had said.
“Wait… how do you know if I’ve eaten or not?” he asked quizzically.
Hermione at once seemed quite embarrassed and began nervously biting her bottom lip again as she looked at the unopened letters on the floor.
“Well… I had talked to Dumbledore a few times and…” Hermione began but was then cut off.
“So now what?! Dumbledore’s running around telling everyone about my business?” Harry spat, quickly feeling his temper rise.
Hermione jumped off the bed and stood facing Harry squarely as she narrowed her eyes and pointed to the letters on the floor next to the bed.
“Harry, I had written to you every day since we’ve gotten off the train! Not once did you return my letters! I even told Hedwig to force a response form you - but when she came back looking rumpled and dejected… What was I to do? I was worried about you Harry! I had to talk to someone!” she argued, matching his ire.
Harry felt his temper turn to guilt as he remembered that he hadn’t written back to anyone, especially Hermione. He knew she would worry herself sick and yet he still chose not to answer her letters. He had felt so justified in his anger and sadness; he wasn’t worried about how his behavior may look to his friends. But now that Hermione was standing not two feet from him, he just felt guilty and confused.
“I’m sorry Hermione,” he sighed as he lowered his head and turned to look out the window. “It’s just… It’s just that I feel so out of control… It’s like I can’t ever be happy.”
“I’m sorry too Harry… I wish… I wish Sirius was still here for you,” she finished, wrapping her arms around herself and looking back down unfocused at the letters, biting her lip yet again.
Harry’s shoulders drooped and he placed a hand on the bottom of the window as if to support himself standing.
“You have no idea… everyone close to me has died… Sirius… my parents… Cedric… EVERYONE HERMIONE!!” yelling the last bit as he straightened himself and turned his back completely to her, facing Hedwig’s empty cage. His eyes burned and he closed them tightly, desperately trying to stem the flow of tears he hoped would not fall in front of her.
He could feel Hermione come up behind and as she placed a hand on his arm -he found his voice again shuddering.
“Don’t touch me Hermione… you’re next… then Ron… then Remus…then everyone else I give a damn about…”
“Harry… It’s not your fault!” she said anxiously, then pleaded; “It’s Voldemorts! He’s the one killing people… not you! Please Harry… please don’t do this to yourself!” and she only gripped his arm tighter, refusing to let go.
“Sirius died trying to save me… I should have practiced Occlumency like you told me… I should have listened to you when you told me it was a trap… I should have…”
Hermione stepped right up against Harry’s back and pressed her forehead in between his shoulder blades, she started sobbing quietly as she said, “Harry… If it’s anyone’s fault it’s mine.”
Harry turned his head and looked down at the small trembling hand gripping his left arm; astonished as he tried to comprehend how Hermione could possibly blame herself.
“How- how on earth can you blame yourself?” he croaked.
“I shouldn’t have trusted Kreacher! I should have told you to Floo directly into the house to check for Sirius! I should have remembered that Snape was in the order! I should have paid more attention to the Death Eaters so I could have been with you in the veiled room!” she had hammered her fist into Harry’s right shoulder as she cried out each point.
Harry rounded on Hermione so quickly that she immediately let go and took a step back clutching her chest in alarm at the sudden ferocity emanating from Harry’s eyes. He pointed an accusing thumb at himself and hissed, “He died because I was too stupid to listen to reason! He died because I was lured into a trap! Don’t you start taking responsibility for something that’s my fault Hermione!”
Hermione dropped her hands down to her sides and clenched her fists; eyes red and puffy, boring into his as she took a half step closer.
“He died because he chose to go to the Ministry and save us Harry! US!! And it was his choice to make “ not ours!” she yelled, stomping her foot at the last bit in frustration; then quietly whispering, “I just wish I would have done things differently, so that he wouldn’t have had to make that decision.”
A painful throb burned in Harry’s chest and it hurt to see Hermione so teary eyed and upset, and it pained him even more deeply to see that she had already accepted blame for Sirius’ death as well. He found that he was no longer angry, but tired and afraid once more. His shoulders drooped yet again in defeat and he looked down at the laces on her small brown trainers, ashamed at his outburst.
“You need to leave…,” he softly implored.
He sensed Hermione stiffen and quickly went on before he lost his resolve.
“Voldemort’s going to kill me Hermione! He’ll kill you too just for being my friend… he only wants me… because I’m… I’m the only one...” he caught himself revealing the prophecy and stopped before going any further.
Hermione waited with baited breath, staring at Harry with intense worry, hoping he would finish saying whatever it was he was going to tell her “ but when he remained silent with eyes focused downwards…
“Harry?” she intoned, lowering her head and trying to reestablish eye contact.
She gently placed both hands on his slumped shoulders and quietly said, “This is about the prophecy isn’t it? You’ve heard it and its not good right? That’s why you’ve been so…” she glanced back down at the unopened letters, “distant.”
Hermione then gripped Harry’s shoulders and shook him forcibly “ willing him to see the fierce determination and resolve in her eyes.
“He’s not going to kill you if I have anything to say about it! It didn’t take a prophecy for me to figure out that there’s something going on between you and Voldemort. And when I heard about the duel between him and Professor Dumbledore… well, it’s easy to conclude that you are the only one that can defeat him. That’s why he tried to kill you when you were only a baby and that’s why I’m going to make damn sure he can’t kill you now!”
Harry sensed a small flicker of hope enter the furthest recess of his mind. After all, if anyone could help him it’d sure to be Hermione… She had solved Snapes riddle in first year, figured out a basilisk in the second, helped him save Sirius in the third, taught him both the four-point spell and summoning charm “ which saved his life in the fourth, and he had learned all kinds of spells and jinx’s from her research in the fifth with the D.A.. In fact, he came to the sudden realization that if it weren’t for her… He was quite confident that he would have been long dead.
But then the haunting image of a lifeless and still Cedric combined with a collapsed Hermione at the Ministry assaulted his heart with astounding force. He felt as if Grawp himself had struck him down and he could find no way to recover.
“I-I can’t allow it Hermione. I c-couldn’t bear it if you died,” he softly said, struggling to hold back the swell of tears trying to escape.
“Well that’s not your choice to make now is it Harry!?” she questioned defiantly, “I’m going to help you do whatever it takes to overcome Voldemort so that you can finally be free. I’m going to be right by your side whether you like it or not and there’s nothing you can do about it! It’s my choice to make and I choose to give you fighting chance!” she huffed.
“You don’t know what it’s like Hermione!” he yelled. “You don’t know what I went through when I thought that curse killed you! You have no idea…”
Hermione didn’t wait to see what it was she no idea of - for she chose that moment to angrily respond.
“No Harry! It’s you who doesn’t know what it’s like!” she cried. “I’m the one who watched you disappear without a trace “ not knowing if you were dead or alive! I’m the one who watched you fall off your broom playing that stupid game! I’m the one who sits at your bedside in the school infirmary every single time something bad happens! You know that there is a joke running at school that says there’s a golden bed in the infirmary with a plaque bearing your name? How much longer do you think I can take this!?” she finished as she let go of Harry’s shoulders and crossed her arms, waiting for him to respond.
He realized then and there that he had never taken the time to consider what she must go through every time something happened to him, and he quickly became disgusted with himself. So, when he said nothing, but continued to look at her with mingled doubt and embarrassment, she continued - desperate to resolve the issue at hand.
“Now the way I see it, you can either waste your time and energy trying to avoid me “ as if Voldemort wouldn’t kill me anyway seeing as I’m not a ‘pureblood’, or you can accept my help and beat him to a pulp, and in so doing, protect me by default,” she finished, satisfied that she had gotten her point across.
Harry nodded, figuring it was inevitable. He knew he couldn’t argue with her anyway, sometimes he wished she wouldn’t make so much sense.
“Thanks…” he said taking a deep breath and nodding again.
Hermione uncrossed her arms and wiped away the tears that had fallen with her hands.
“Don’t thank me Harry. I haven’t done anything… yet,” she sniffed with a half smile then sat down again at the middle of the bed.
Crookshanks stirred from Harry’s pillow and began rubbing himself up against Hermione’s right arm. She reached over, placed him contently on her lap, and began stroking him once more - the loud purring breaking the silence that had come between them.
“Finish your food Harry,” Hermione admonished as she pointed at the half-eaten pie, still in Harry’s right hand.
Harry had once again completely forgotten his unfinished meal and seeing the last little bit, his stomach chose to remind him. Now that he was emotionally spent, he found himself hungry once more, so in one giant bite he quickly finished off the remainder.
Hermione gave him a genuine smile and again grabbed two more mince pies and threw them to him.
He wondered how many of these she had made as he took a large bite out of the first, they were awfully good, and he was certain that he would not be so well fed by the Dursley’s.
“My Dad’s says I’ve baked enough for a small army,” she laughed, trying once again to return some normalcy to their conversation. “I’ve brought about thirty actually. There’s more in the box. I just finished baking the last of them earlier today since I had already packed last night,” she smiled.
Harry hurriedly swallowed and said with a soft smile of his own, “You are amazing Hermione… honestly I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
She turned and looked once more inside the box, trying not to show the slight flush that had again invaded her cheeks, and pulled out a large sealed flask.
Harry couldn’t help but grin once more at the sight of Hermione trying to hide the blush “ after all, she had every right to be proud of herself he thought. He truly was amazed at what she could learn and do just from reading books.
“I also brought some pumpkin juice,” she said waving the canister, after which she set down next to all the rest of the packages on the bed.
“What’s everything else?” Harry asked as he took another giant bite of the pie in his left hand and pointed at everything on his bed with the other.
Hermione beamed and pointed at the differing shaped objects next to her, identifying them with one hand and continuing to pet a purring Crookshanks with the other.
“These of course are more mince pies, and these longer ones over here are brandy snaps “ they’re Dads favorite but they’re not sugar“free, so he didn’t touch them - they were hard to make but if you like them then it will have been worth it, and I had a go at making some custard crèmes “ they’re in the tins. Oh…I also baked a pumpkin pie; it’s still in the box which, incidentally I had Kingsley put a chilling charm on so everything will keep for a while.”
Harry, crumbs and all, simply stood and gaped at her; to say he was dumbfounded and speechless would have been an understatement.
Seeing the expression on Harry’s face, she laughed.
“I told you I had been bored!”
“I guess so!” came Harry’s stunned reply.
“So… are you going tell me what’s been going on?” she asked nodding her head at the pile of dust on the floor and then looking up at him expectantly.
Harry sat with his back to the wall facing her and began to recap as much as he could remember from the time he destroyed his desk till his return to his bedroom, trying not leave out any detail “ except the part about her coat - as Hermione sat looking deep in thought and listening intently to every word, patiently waiting for him to finish. He expected her to talk about the house Sirius had left him, or even about Dobby “ but instead she said, “Well… it’s not surprising that you can do wand-less magic, a lot of witches and wizards can to some extent. But what is surprising is how you can manifest it in such a way as to completely incinerate your writing desk and yet leave everything else completely untouched. Everyone can see that you’re going to be a powerful wizard Harry. I wonder who Dumbledore is getting to teach you about it?” she asked with furrowed brow.
“No idea,” answered Harry. “And how is Flitwick supposed to teach me about dueling?”
Hermione rolled her eyes before answering,
“Honestly Harry, don’t you ever listen? Professor Flitwick was a dueling champion for many years! I didn’t know he was in the Order though, I don’t remember seeing him… I suppose there are plenty of members we don’t know about?” she questioned.
Harry shrugged.
“I’ll have to ask him about that during my next lesson.”
“Flitwick?” he confusedly asked.
“No Harry, Dumbledore “ my Occlumency lessons. Remember?”
“Oh…” said Harry, suddenly nervous as he remembered that she would be helping him with it. He wasn’t sure he wanted her poking around his head any more than Snape, but he knew the grave consequences of not learning it properly “ and he had to admit that learning it from Hermione was definitely more pleasant than the alterative.
“Anyway…” started Hermione, who looked as if she were having similar reservations about having Harry in her head as well but had come to the same conclusion as he, “how come you didn’t ask about the weapon Dumbledore mentioned?”
“I don’t know… I think I was thrown off when he mentioned that the Order didn’t have a place to meet,” he sighed and rubbed his forehead, knowing he had missed something significant.
“Hmmm…” Hermione mumbled in reflection before saying, “It’s also very interesting that you can see magical Items. I suppose that means you can see the magic in people too.”
“Huh?” asked Harry.
“I’ve been going through the books that Dumbledore left for me and I found that there have been those who can actually see the magic in people “ you know, see how much magic they in fact have- how potent they are and how much power is actually behind their spell… this is great Harry! This means that you can produce defensive charms that can protect you from more than just minor curses and jinxes!” she exclaimed excitedly.
“Hermione “ I don’t understand what you’re talking about!” Harry felt his head begin to hurt.
“Think about it Harry!”
“I’d rather not…” he said, rubbing his head with both hands.
“If you can determine the amount of power cast in the spell then you can, in turn, increase the amount of power you put in your own defensive spell! Oh… this is fascinating! I can’t wait to find out more! Maybe I can sit in on your lessons!” Hermione said very excitedly.
“Oh,” was all Harry managed to say as her brow furrowed once more.
“I don’t understand about the whole puberty thing however… you’ve been going through puberty since second year… there must be something else… I’m going to look that one up as well.”
Harry didn’t find this at all as thrilling as Hermione apparently did, and upon pulling his knees up and resting his arms on them discovered he was still pretty tired.
Hermione dropped her voice and asked worriedly, “Are you still having trouble sleeping?”
He looked up to find her face full of concern. The look she gave quickly suppressed any anger he would have felt.
“Jeez Hermione “ does everybody tell you everything?” he asked, unable to completely curb the spiteful tone in his voice.
“Ron cares about you too you know,” she answered - still speaking softly, leaving Harry embarrassed at his minor outburst.
“Well… today I slept the best I can ever remember,” he responded truthfully.
“No nightmares?” she asked.
He looked up at the ceiling in thought before answering.
“No… not this morning - I slept brilliantly in fact,” he grinned, still gazing at a spot on the ceiling as he recalled the pleasant sensations, still vivid in his mind.
Hermione stared at him, unsure; she knew from Ron that he had been having even worse nightmares since Sirius’ death on almost a nightly basis, but she couldn’t ever recall seeing such a look of peace and contentment on his face before…
“Finish your food Harry. You need a bath,” she said teasingly as she wrinkled her nose.
“Yeah,” Harry laughed looking down at himself. “I probably smell funny,” he said wrinkling his nose in return and smiling.
He stood, raised his arms over his head, and stretched twisting side to side. He grunted as small pops and cracks came out of his joints.
“You look like Crookshanks!” Hermione laughed, putting her hand to her mouth.
“Thanks,” he replied as he walked to his trunk and removed a fresh pair of jeans, pants (underwear in British), and a crimson t-shirt. “Since he’s your cat “ I’ll take that as a compliment,” he finished, grinning.
“You’ve got about fifteen minutes before I have to go, so get!” she playfully ordered.
“But… then maybe I should wait until you’ve left,” Harry said straightening and facing her once again.
“Don’t worry Harry; I’ll still be here when you finish... besides how am I supposed to know that you’ve really cleaned yourself up?” she smirked.
“All right, I’ll be right back then…” he said as he headed out the door.
Once in the bathroom, he quickly undressed and jumped into the shower. He turned the water up hot; he felt both metaphorically and physically cleaner as the water cascaded from the top of his head to the bottoms of his feet. He didn’t think he was ready to talk about Sirius, he knew Hermione had tried to bring the subject of his death up several times back at Hogwarts “ yet now that she had finally confronted him on it, he found himself glad she did. He marveled at how wonderfully calm he actually felt; it seemed as if the sun had peeked through the storm clouds of his heart and he was warmed. He still missed his Godfather, and he still blamed himself; but for the first time he could ever remember… he didn’t feel alone.
He finished and did his best to dry himself quickly, and after dressing as rapidly as he could, ran back into his room only to find that Hermione was busily tidying up.
Hedwig’s cage had been cleaned and the window and its blinds were both wide-open letting in much light and fresh air. The dust of his desk was gone and in its place rested the box she had brought; the food and drink carefully returned and packed. On the nightstand, neatly stacked were his letters. His wardrobe stood open revealing all the clothes from his trunk nicely folded and hung, and it looked as if Hermione was getting ready to make the bed, as she held the comforter up in one hand and the sheet in the other, until she noticed that he had entered and abruptly stopped what she was doing, hurriedly flung down the covers, and turned swiftly to face him.
She threw her arms behind her back and looked at Harry wide eyed, both shocked and embarrassed. She was blushing so feverishly that he could almost feel the heat from where he stood.
“Oh… Harry! Um…I didn’t hear you come in! I… I hope you don’t mind. I… I was just…”
Harry frowned in complete bewilderment and looked down at himself wondering if in his haste he had forgotten to put his jeans on. For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out what he’d done to cause a reaction like that from her.
“It’s alright Hermione… I’m the one who should be embarrassed,” he said running his hand through his still wet air and glancing at his trunk. “I haven’t really been keeping up the room.”
And then suddenly it hit him - she had emptied his trunk! She had touched his pants (boys’ underwear in British)! A girl had touched his pants!! And to make matters worse “ that girl was Hermione!!
His mind began working frantically as he tried to remember what shape they were in. He prayed to every God that he could think of that she hadn’t noticed his older ones with holes…
Now he could feel the intense heat radiating from his face and was assured that his blush matched hers when he heard a deep voice from the doorway.
“I’m sorry to interrupt your color contest, but it seemed to me that if both of you got much redder you’d lose consciousness - I think I’d have a hard time explaining to the Order how you two ended up at St. Mungos.”
Harry turned to find an amused Shaklebolt dressed in a crisp black suit and matching tie; his baldhead nearly touching the top of the entryway as the gold loop hanging from his ear glistened from the window light.
He stepped into the room with a big smile and extended his hand to Harry.
“Rather small room you got here Harry, I didn’t come up last time. Had I known I would have threatened your uncle into giving you a bigger one,” Kingsley said as he shook Harry’s hand and glanced about the room. “It’s nice to see you gain,” he finished.
The room really did seem small to Harry, especially now with Kingsley’s added bulk.
“Err…you too Kingsley,” responded Harry, letting go of his hand.
“If you’re ready, your parents are waiting for us outside,” he said nodding to Hermione, then to Harry he finished, “They don’t mean to be rude, but they have heard plenty in regards to your Uncles hospitality.”
“Oh, well let me walk you down then,” offered Harry, noting that both his and Hermione’s color had returned to normal.
“I’ll go ahead and check outside the front,” Kingsley said. And when he received a questioning look form Harry, he shrugged and answered, “Protocol.”
He then turned to leave, stopping at the door.
“I’ll see you in a few days Harry “ stay safe,” he added and then left.
“Come on…” said Hermione, her smile returning.
They walked out together only to find Uncle Vernon’s look of disgust from the bottom of the stairs to which Harry completely ignored. Hermione however wrapped her arm around Harry’s so that they walked down step in step with her head held high in defiance. Vernon continued to glare from the hallway as they got to the open front door where Kingsley stood waiting just outside.
Hermione let Harry’s arm go and turned to face him. She looked up into his eyes searchingly “ he felt he ought to do something, but he hadn’t a clue as to what it was.
She let out a sympathetic sigh and smiled as she said, “I’ll see you in two weeks. Dumbledore says I’m to stay at Grimmauld.” She then stood on her toes and softly kissed his cheek.
Uncle Vernon instantly became incensed as he took a roaring step forward, raised his fist, and bellowed, “I will not have this behavior in my house! Especially with the door wide open so the neigh..!”
Kingsley turned when he heard the shouting but stopped when he saw that Hermione had stepped in front of Harry, abruptly halting Harry’s Uncle in the middle of his tirade.
Harry saw that Hermione had her wand pointed ominously at Uncle Vernon; who had taken several steps back, his bulging eyes fixed upon it as if the wand were a bomb that may go off at any moment.
Harry briefly wondered where she had hid it for he was certain he hadn’t noticed it earlier as he stood stunned and speechless at the events unfolding before him.
“If you lay a finger on Harry, or harm him in any way “ I will curse you into oblivion and back again. Do - you - understand - me?”
He had never heard Hermione’s voice sound so menacing and deadly before… It not only terrified Uncle Vernon into nodding his understanding, it had scared Harry as well.
She turned back to Harry and threw her arms around his neck, then pulled his head down kissing his cheek tenderly once more and, in his ear she whispered, “Sleep well.”
She released him, smiled at his confused expression for a moment then turned and walked outside to Kingsley.
It was strange he thought, as he watched them get into a silver car he didn’t recognize. For a moment there, he had almost felt whole again… almost…