The Buddy System. *Updating In Process*

66. Warmth Enough to Breathe

Every now and then, she nudged the bread basket a little closer to Azaleah's elbow, inch by inch, so subtly it might have been accidental. A moment later, she slid the butter dish toward her, stopping just short of touching her bowl. No questions. No encouragement. No insistence.

Just quiet, patient offers.

Here, if you want it.
It will still be here if you need time.
Nothing will be taken from you.

Azaleah didn't look up. But after a while, her hand drifted toward the bread basket, fingers brushing the edge before retreating again, then returning with slightly more confidence. She tore a piece of bread with care, cradling it in her palm as though it were something precious.

The silence held.

It wasn't empty. It was full — of watching, of waiting, of unspoken understanding — and for the moment, none of us dared disturb it.

After a while, Azaleah cleared her throat.

The sound alone made me look up.

"R... Rae?" she murmured.

"Yes?" I answered immediately, keeping my voice soft, steady.

She hesitated, fingers tightening slightly around her spoon. "A... are you... b... back at s... school?"

The question felt enormous coming from her — not just curiosity, but longing buried beneath it. Fear. Wonder. A world she'd been torn from, asking quietly if it still existed.

"Yes," I said gently. "I am."

She nodded, eyes flicking back to her bowl as if bracing herself. I continued before she could retreat again.

"Oh — um — well... after the... you know... the battle," I said carefully, choosing my words like stepping stones, "Hogwarts had to be rebuilt. There was a lot of damage. Some parts worse than others."

She looked up at that, just briefly.

"It took about two weeks," I went on. "Everyone helped. Professors, students, families... anyone who could lift a wand, really. It was kind of incredible."

I smiled softly and glanced at Mrs Weasley.

"Molly was there the entire time. Her whole family, actually. Fixing walls, clearing rubble, feeding half the school."

Mrs Weasley waved a hand, cheeks pinking. "Of course," she said modestly. "Hogwarts is a historic building. It deserved to be restored properly — back to its former glory."

Azaleah listened intently, spoon paused halfway to her mouth.

"Well," I added, shifting slightly in my chair, "mostly back to its former glory."

The words felt strange leaving my mouth — hopeful, careful. Like I was testing them first, making sure they wouldn't splinter on impact. Hogwarts back to normal still sounded almost blasphemous after everything it had been through.

Mrs Weasley let out a quiet chuckle, the sound soft and fond, as though she'd heard that phrase many times before and always with the same grain of salt. "With a few adjustments," she said lightly, though there was weight beneath it. Experience. Wisdom. The kind earned through loss.

Azaleah's brow creased faintly, her spoon pausing halfway to her mouth. She glanced up at me, then at Mrs Weasley, confusion knitting gently between her eyebrows. "A... adjustments?" she asked, the word tentative, shaped carefully as though she didn't quite trust it yet.

I smiled, grateful for the opening — for the way curiosity had slipped past her guard without resistance. It felt like a small victory, one I didn't want to rush or mishandle.