The piece of bronze exploded in front of her and Eliza tossed another piece of parchment in the abandoned pile of arithmancy questions. Grabbing the quill from where she’d stuffed it into her bun for safe keeping she dragged another piece of parchment towards her, starting a new set of equations.
She wanted to find a way to bind her new spell enchantments onto a metal before she attempted it on her actual compass, so far she’d had little success. She’d translated the locator spell over to runic language and bound it to the actual compass just fine, it was adding everything else what was causing the problems.
“Eliza?” someone called and Eliza looked up distractedly to see Draco stood by the door “You’ve been working all night, do you want to at least have breakfast with us?”
She shook her head, sifting through her messy desk to find another small piece of bronze. She was struggling to lock the locator spell onto a specific place. The charm was there it just had nowhere to go. She still hadn’t found the right runic combination but after that the other enchantments would slot into place. Severus had helped develop the ‘evolved’ homenum revelio spell and she’d enchanted things akin to the compass before that warned the owner of danger it was-
“Eliza”
She jolted back in surprise when Draco suddenly appeared in front of her, grey eyes earnestly worried as he took a hold of her cold hands.
“Sorry” she murmured distractedly “Lost in thought”
“You never get that lost in thought – even a bowtruckle would have trouble sneaking up on you”
She eyed the scattered materials around her. She had thrown herself into her work the second she got back to Hogwarts, not even bothering to change. Eliza usually struggled to sleep anyway, there hadn’t been any point in trying after her confrontation with Tom. It was easier to work, easier to distract herself.
“It’s been a long night” she said instead of saying anything else and Draco’s gaze seemed to harden, a determined expression settling across his face as he gave a quick nod.
“Right come on” he said in a tone that was so eerily reminiscent of Narcissa’s Eliza didn’t even bother arguing as he pulled her along. It was only when they left her room did Eliza notice it was in fact morning and Merlin her room was getting smoky through all the minor explosions.
“How did you get through my wards?” she asked as Draco lead them towards his own room and he looked at her disapprovingly.
“You didn’t even close your door properly – thank Merlin. Otherwise you’d still be in there exploding things. You’re so lucky Daphne was over at Susan’s; she’d have your head if she could hear that all night”
“It’s cathartic” she protested mildly and Draco shoved her into his room, pushing her onto the bed before closing the door behind him.
“Cathartic” he echoed “You know most people use different methods to cheer themselves up”
“And how do you know I need cheering up” she shot back petulantly.
“I know things” he said vaguely, tossing a spare blanket onto the bed.
“And somethings obviously upset you and you’re going to tell me what” he ordered sternly, Eliza was so drained she couldn’t even be bothered arguing with him about it. Draco strode over to his drawers, rummaging through them and Eliza curiously glanced around the room.
Like she did Draco had various photos of them all pinned up on his wall, family photos to ridiculous group ones to candid’s she swore he stole from little Colin Creevey. The room was also covered in Quidditch memorabilia, posters and ticket stubs plastered all over the walls. The desk was covered in stray arithmancy equations and Eliza stifled a snort when she saw that an old Gilderoy Lockhart textbook was being used as a table-mat. Cup stains littering the wrinkled cover.
“Here” Draco said and tossed some clothes in Eliza’s direction and gestured to the en-suite “Go get changed while I grab us some drinks”
Eliza dutifully took the clothes and smiled slightly. She had some ridiculously fluffy pants from a past sleep over and Draco had seemingly sacrificed another one of his Quidditch Jerseys to the cause of cheering her up. He had sworn she couldn’t have anymore since she had gotten blood on the last one.
Merlin the Quidditch world cup felt like a life-time ago.
By the time Draco returned Eliza had settled onto his bed, wrapping herself in a fluffy silver blanket after realising just how cold she was from staying in damp clothes the whole time.
“Time to get cosy bitch” Draco proclaimed as he burst back into the room, carrying two steaming mugs of hot-chocolate “Now tell me what happened”
And Eliza broke.
“I bumped into Tom yesterday” she said slowly, and the hurt she had been repressing reared its head “And he-
He what? Confessed? Rejected her?
“He was a wanker”
“He’s perpetually a wanker Eliza, what did he do?”
And so Eliza told him everything, the confession, the argument, the hopeless miscommunication and by the end their hot-chocolates have been drank and Draco was fuming beside her.
“What are you doing?” she asked warily as Draco angrily scribbled out a letter.
“I’m telling mother to give him a stern talking too”
“No” Eliza yelped, scrambling to confiscate Draco’s quill “You can’t set your mother on the bloody dark lord”
“Not much of a dark lord anymore is he?” Draco said airily “Bit tame really”
“Are you forgetting the time we eviscerated the entire order in cold blood?”
“That was ages ago” he flippantly replied.
“He’s trying to secretly assassinate Lady Abbot as we speak”
“Well that’s just for the public good”
“Draco”
“Eliza”
She shifted into her fox form and pounced on him, sending them both flying back into the mountain of pillows he had on his bed. Draco let out a few protesting shouts as they play-fought before eventually they settled down. Eliza curled up between the pillows and Draco flopped down beside her.
She couldn’t deny that he had certainly made her feel better. Draco was right, maybe he did know a few things.
~
She stopped cathartically exploding things a week later. She had no time to deal with Tom’s melodramatics when she was busy with other things.
Jormy was ill.
Of course she couldn’t know that for certain. There was no handbook on how to keep a healthy basilisk. The only journals she had were Salazar’s and the man had looked after Jormy when the basilisk had been nothing more than an infant. Any other books on the matter just detailed how dangerous and scary basilisks were, and how they were ancient creatures.
It was that what caught Eliza’s attention. Because Jormy was old, he really was. The lifespan of a basilisk was long anyway but as far as she knew Jormy was really getting up there now. But she wouldn’t think about that, refused to. He was just a bit under the weather.
So Eliza warmed up the chamber and gave him more rabbits and shined his scales and dedicated her hours to him. Because he was unwell, and he was tired, and the least she could do was spend some of her practically unlimited time with him.
The weeks passed.
He didn’t get better.
Her court knew what was going but they didn’t have any way to help either. They also struggled to understand, to them Jormy was still terrifying. To Eliza he was a beloved friend. She’d gone to Hagrid for advice, turned to Severus for help but had come empty each time. And with each passing day Jormy was sleeping more and more, half the time only vaguely aware of Eliza’s presence at all.
“Hi Jormy” she whispered one long night down in the chamber “How are we doing today?”
“I’m tired little speaker” he hissed back sluggishly and Eliza wrapped herself around him a bit tighter.
“I know” she murmured back, stroking the spot between his eyes “I know”
The next day she finally spoke to Tom.
You need to come back to Hogwarts
He replied instantly, writing rushed and hurried What’s wrong? What’s happened.
It’s Jormy. He’s not well Tom.
I’ll be there by tonight.
She put the journal away and informed her court of Tom’s imminent arrival. Before the news would have been met with stifling tension and worried glances but now her court just seemed relieved. She couldn’t even appreciate the change. She’d been despondent for days, she knew she had been but she couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop it.
She’d never had to deal with anything quite like this before.
Eliza went through her day in a bit of a daze, periodically checking the marauder’s map to see if Tom had entered the castle yet. She didn’t know which entrance he was sneaking in through but she assumed he would be here soon enough.
Arguments had never stopped them before.
It was later that evening she spotted Tom on the map and she began to make her way towards the chamber. She let her court know not to wait up for her and left their worried stares behind as she sneaked out of the common room. Tom had used the Honeydukes tunnel and with a few short-cuts Eliza ended up beating him to Myrtle’s bathroom. She waited in an anxious silence, if it was over the prospect of seeing Tom again or Jormy she couldn’t tell. It was probably just a horrible amalgamation of both.
She nearly jumped out of her skin when Tom suddenly appeared in front of her – dropping a disillusionment charm she wasn’t even aware he had up.
“Hello Little Star” he greeted easily even as he held himself tense, unable to hide the worry in his eyes.
I’m sorry.
Eliza internally shook her head, this was more important than her and Tom’s – whatever.
“Come on” she said instead, slipping into the bathroom behind them “Thank you for coming”
“What’s going on?” Tom questioned worriedly, disdainfully looking at the pipe turned slide even though Eliza knew for a fact it was the cleanest it had ever been.
“It’s Jormy. He’s- he’s not well Tom” Eliza said hating the way her voice caught on the words. They stayed in uncomfortable stifling silence for a few moments, the ugly daunting truth settling heavy between them. Gesturing to the pipe Eliza hopped onto the edge, throwing herself down feeling the air whip past her.
The Chamber was quiet on a normal day, daunting at night. The silence surrounding them now was like one out of a tomb. Tom fell inelegantly on the ground and Eliza snorted at his muttered curses when he pushed himself up, brushing off his robes.
They walked down the tunnel together.
“This is familiar isn’t it Little Star?” Tom spoke trying to alleviate the tension but a worried edge still clung to his words “You and I, the Chamber of Secrets”
“Ah yes” Eliza joked back “Where you tried to murder me”
“Murder is such a strong word Little Star”
She hated how easy it was to fall into their familiar banter. She was hating quite a lot of things today.
“What would you call it then?” she shot back as the chamber came into view, trying to ignore the heavy sick feeling that had settled into her chest.
“Friendly coercion”
She huffed a laugh but any brief amusement she felt fell away when they both caught sight of Jormy lying curled up on the chamber floor. His eyes, a usual bright amber orange, were slowly fading. Dull in the dim light of the chamber. She felt Tom falter beside her but pushed on all the same.
Violence, blood, war – they were both well equipped to deal with that. They weren’t capable of dealing with this, doling out comfort, wrestling with grief.
“Hi Jormy” Eliza greeted softly and with monumental effort Jormy shifted his head, tracking the sound of her voice “I brought you a visitor”
“Hello Jormugand” Tom greeted quietly, running a hand over the basilisks’ snout “It’s been a while, old friend”
Jormy released a long contented hiss and the two of them sat side by side, resting against their treasured friend.
“Little master, Little speaker” Jormy greeted, sibilant hisses echoing through the empty chamber “Have you come to bring me rabbits?”
Tom let out a strangled sort of laugh and Eliza felt her heart clench, eyes burning slightly.
“No rabbits today Jormugand” he answered and Jormy seemed to hiss knowingly, exerting himself by curling the rest of his body around them both.
“Then you have come to say goodbye”
Eliza was going to cry. She wasn’t ready to say goodbye. She had never had anything to say goodbye to in the past, this concept of loss – of grief was unfamiliar.
“We’re not going anywhere Jormy” she said instead, voice light and joking even though her throat was tight and her eyes burned.
“But I am” Jormy said, wise beyond his years and twice as caring.
She made no move to brush away the tears that rolled down her face, sitting silently by his side. It was Tom who spoke next, something desperate and vulnerable.
“Do you have too?”
And she was reminded that Tom had never had to face this feeling before either.
If the basilisk could laugh he would have “Silly speakers, smart speakers. Salazar would have loved you”
“I’m sure you’ll see him again” Tom said back, nails digging into his hands as he offered comfort. A brief silence, a stifled cry and then Tom spoke again “It was an honour knowing you, old friend”
“We’ll miss you” Eliza whispered, voice breaking. They all sat around in silence as Jormy’s breaths started faltering, offering him their quiet comfort as his eyes seemed to grow duller and duller.
Eventually she couldn’t take the silence, couldn’t stand the possibility of hearing her friend’s final breath and so softly she began to hum. The melody was quiet, if a bit warbling from the effort it took to keep her tears unshed. An old war song the matron used to hum around the orphanage, one she was sure Tom would be familiar with.
We’ll meet again, don’t know where, don’t know when.
Jormy seemed to take one last long shuddering breath.
But I know we’ll meet again.
He went still beside them, eyes losing the last of their burning bright glow.
Some sunny day.
A sob tore from her throat, hands desperately wrapping around Jormy. There was no indignant hiss, no comforting advice, no heart pounding beneath his scales. He lay still and empty and cold and Eliza couldn’t help but cry more when she realised he really was gone, gone forever.
“Eliza” Tom croaked moving so they were pressed against each other, still wrapped in Jormy’s coils “Eliza I-
Tom was crying too, tears welling up in his burning red eyes and Eliza grabbed onto his hand like it was a life line.
“He’s gone”
A whispered defeat.
But he didn’t have to be.
“No” Eliza said, roughly wiping away her tears. She was the master of death, the owner of the hollows, a necromancer. Death was not the end until she said it was “No I can bring him back”
She pushed herself off the ground and Tom leaped up immediately after “Eliza no don’t-
She shoved his arms off her and came to stand in front of her friend. Placing her hands on either side of his head she levelled her breathing and closed her eyes. She reached for that feeling within her, that cold burning she was well accustomed with. It slipped away from her, surrounded her like it did when she was in Death’s realm but she persevered. Her magic flooded around her, moving through veins and capillaries, touching muscle and scales as she continued. It pulled and ebbed as Eliza tried to guide it, breathing life into tissue as she dredged up every piece of power she had. How long had she spent practicing necromancy in this very chamber listening to Jormy’s encouragements?
Eventually, the heart gave one loud ‘beat’ and the noise seemed to echo right through her. And then there was another, and another. Vaguely she felt Tom pressing into her, a strangled noise escaping him and then she slowly opened her eyes.
Jormy had risen in front of them, head at eye level with the pair of them. But Jormy’s eyes weren’t the same, they weren’t amber or orange. They were grey, a cloudy milky horrible grey and his scales that were once shiny were now dull. But the body was alive.
“I brought him back” Eliza said breathlessly, resting a hand on the basilisk’s snout and ignoring the fact that Jormy didn’t let out a contented hiss like usual, or that he didn’t make any move to greet them.
“Greetings master” the basilisk eventually hissed, tone cold and near rattling – eerily unfamiliar.
“I brought him back” she repeated instead desperately, eyes once again filling up with tears. Tom rested his hand on her shoulder, forcing her hand away from the basilisk and turned her face towards him. He was fairing no better, flushed and teary eyed but there was something hard in his gaze.
“This isn’t Jormugand little star” he said heartbreakingly soft and Eliza glanced at the damning milky grey eyes of the basilisk “This isn’t our Jormugand”
She felt her throat tighten again, unwilling to face the truth, not wanting to let her friend go. Tom wiped her tears away delicately, pressed his forehead against hers as if it pained him to say the next words.
“We need to let him go Eliza” he whispered and the sound echoed, horribly loud in the chamber that suddenly felt horrifically empty.
“We need to let him rest”
The body slumped to the ground as Eliza called back her magic and she broke there and then in Tom’s arms. They both clung to each other like they were the only things keeping themselves together and Eliza let out another broken sob.
“I’m going to miss him” she stuttered out, still wrapped in Tom’s embrace and she felt it when his breathing stuttered.
“I know” he whispered “I will too”
She didn’t know how long they stood there. They stood there until their tears dried and their feet ached and all that she was left with was an aching horrible emptiness as they stood in front of their fallen friend.
“We should leave” she croaked out eventually “We can’t just – we can’t just stay here all night”
She didn’t point out that they no longer had a reason too.
Tom nodded his head and slowly unwound himself from her, pausing slightly as his bloodshot eyes turned to look at Jormy. Sniffing to herself slightly she took a few steps back, giving him the false sense of privacy he needed.
He rested a hand on Jormy’s head, shoulders shuddering and she tried valiantly to ignore his broken whispered confessions.
“Thank you for everything old friend” she heard him say as she turned to walk away “I hope you are some place happier”
Tom jogged to catch up to her, neither of them looked back.
~
Her room felt far too happy considering the tragedy that had just befell them. The room was plastered in pictures of happy times and just staring at them made Eliza’s heart ache as she realised each and everyone were tainted by her loss. There had never been a before and after in Eliza’s life before. There had been a before certainly, before Hogwarts, before her court, before her family. But never an after, a finality. Every moment she lived now was a moment longer than Jormy, a moment without her friend in the world and she wasn’t sure if her heart would ever heal that crack in it.
Her bed was still as warm and inviting as ever. Kicking off her shoes Eliza didn’t even bother changing before crawling beneath her duvet, drained from magic and loss all the same. Tom loitered awkwardly none of his usual put together-ness in place. They hadn’t spoken the whole way back, something raw and hurting settling in their silence but now he broke the quiet between them.
“I should head back” he rasped out and unthinkingly Eliza reached out, as if to grab for his hand and pull him back as she met his eyes.
“Stay” she whispered and she remembered that Samhain night when Tom had almost lost her, when she was the one on deaths door. Except she had lived.
The Master of Death was a hollow title, what did it matter if it couldn’t help her save the only family she had ever had.
“Stay” she said again only his time it was Tom who faltered in the doorway. It was Tom who kicked off his shoes. And it was Tom who came back at the sound of her whispered pleas. He rested stiffly beside her and a grim silence once again settled over them.
“I didn’t know you could sing” he said after a while, both of them unable to sleep.
“Jormy knew” she choked out “I used to hum to myself in the chamber”
Tom’s breathing hitched next to her and his next words sounded like it pained him to even say.
“I’m sure he loved it”
Throwing all caution to the wind she curled up next to him and didn’t say anything when his hand rose to play absently with her messily braided hair.
And if she saw him crying well into the night, and if he heard her muffled sobs then, well – they didn’t have to say anything about that either.
If she had been awake she would have heard Tom's quiet 3am confessions, the whispered comforts pressed into her hair.
She found sleep quickly.
And she woke up to an empty bed.
There was a brief moment between her initially waking up and a blissful haze where she didn’t remember what happened yesterday. A temporary peace where Jormy was still alive and breathing and pestering them for more rabbits and congratulating her on her school work.
But that’s all it was, temporary.
She didn’t cry this time, somehow that made it all worse.
The spot next to her was empty but upon further examination she found that her bedside table wasn’t. There was a mug of hot chocolate under a stasis charm, whipped cream and three marshmallows just the way she liked and when she took a sip she could faintly taste the cinnamon. The warmth did nothing to ease the hollow cold that had settled into her chest.
There was a note from Severus exempting her from all classes for the day and before she could question the man’s unusual charitable kindness she spotted a message from Tom written in their journals.
After some brief coercing Severus has given you a free pass for the day, please rest up little star and please remember;
Anything you need Little Star, anything you want, is yours – you need only ask.
And there on the table lay a shrunken down basilisk fang – the perfect size to hang from one of her earrings.
You are much like a basilisk yourself little speaker, except for your teeth, human teeth. We will get you some fangs one day.
Eliza barely had time to place her hot-chocolate down before she started crying again.
Was this all that her life was now? With Death’s sentence of immortality hanging over her head? How many more times would she grow attached only to have them all ripped away from her one by one? And what would she do after that. Would she return to how she was before, closed off and angry, all bared teeth and twitching hands as she was surrounded by enemy after enemy? How much more pain would she be forced to bear without the promise of an end.
And is this what Tom had truly wished for in his foolish quest for immortality?
Time was muddled, had been muddled all week but now Eliza felt sluggish. The burning cold refused to leave her as she spiralled losing hours and hours to her never-ending thoughts. And sometimes, when the walls around her blurred and her eyes weighed heavily with exhaustion she thought she could imagine Death’s presence. Feel their bony fingertips pressed against her shoulder as she held Jormy’s fang close to her.
She heard people knocking at her door throughout the day but none could get through. Her wards were still up and she sat in near silence. Hew own solitary vigil for a lost friend with only her own thoughts to keep her company. Until, eventually, her thoughts became too much.
And she knew there was only one place she could go too.
~
Mayfair wasn’t quiet enough.
It was unfairly busy, loud and happy and bustling as Eliza waded through the crowds. Even with the masses though people seemed to avoid her as she trudged along the street, as if they were put off by her mere presence alone. Not for the first time Eliza wondered if the invisibility cloak was the only shroud of Death she wore. Or perhaps the crowd around her caught sight of her bloodshot eyes and rumpled clothes and unanimously decided she was a disaster not worth bothering with.
Both thoughts could be true.
Her feet carried her down the street as her thoughts rattled about her skull, ceaselessly hammering until she could barely focus on what was surrounding her. She was jolted out of her spiralling when she finally caught sight of the antique shop sitting undisturbed on the corner, a soft golden light flooding out from the dirty windows and the cracks beneath the door.
The bell jingled, happy and light and Eliza stumbled to a stop just on the inside of the door, and she had no time to question what she was actually doing out here before she heard Frank’s voice coming from behind on of the many towering shelves.
“Back for more stories already?”
“How do you do it?” Eliza asked voice raw and hurting as she desperately searched for answers. Frank came out from behind the shelf, kind warm eyes overwhelmingly worried as he caught sight of her. She wondered what she looked like to him, weak and battered probably. None of her usual strength and charm in sight. What was the point of it? What was the point of any of it?
“How do you live for so long? How can you go on when you know-
She cut herself off with a strangled sort of choking sound.
“How do you carry on when you know you’re just going to end up alone?”
A heavy understanding seemed to settle in Frank’s gaze, not quite pity, it was something more knowing, an empathy she wasn’t used too.
“Come on now Miss Potter, lets get you some tea”
She didn’t want any tea right now.
Frank herded her into the backroom regardless and sat her down at the table. The kettle was put on the stove, the water boiled and it felt like she had barely had any time to blink before there was a cup full of steaming tea sat in front of her.
She nursed the drink for a while, Frank sipping from his own cup as they both waited for each other to speak. Eventually, after Frank had apparently decided she’d drank enough tea to be able to handle an emotion heavy conversation he spoke up.
“What happened Eliza?”
His voice was soft and stern at the same time, like Remus when she had done something stupid, or Severus when he was trying to get her to open up, or even Sirius in his rare moments of maturity. Except she couldn’t go to any of them with this, because none of them would ever truly understand.
“I lost a friend last night” Eliza whispered, some part of her still struggling to accept the truth of her words “I told you about him – Jormugand”
If Frank wanted to laugh at her for considering a basilisk a close friend he gave no sign of it, instead he smiled sadly, apologetically, across at her.
“Losing someone is always hard Eliza”
And then it all came spilling out of her.
“And – and that’s the thing. I’ve never lost anyone before and now, now this all my life is going to be isn’t it? Everything I’ve made, the family I’ve found. I’m going to have to lose them all one by one until there’s nothing left and I’m just going to be alone and lost for, for forever-
She was running out of air, lungs tightening cruelly as the thoughts that had been clinging to her all day finally came spilling out. Death’s words had always made her feel uncomfortable since she had heard them but now the grim reality was staring at her in the face. Why had anyone wished for immortality? Why had anyone ever viewed it as a gift and not a curse?
“So how do you do it?” she repeated her earlier question, meeting Frank’s eyes from across the table “How do you get up everyday and carry on knowing that at the end of it all it’s just going to be you, and no-one else”
What’s the point? She wanted to ask, but that was one question that didn’t leave her mind. She thought Frank knew anyway, from the look he was giving her. All those centuries making him eerily perceptive.
“Drink your tea” Frank said and Eliza, too drained to put up an argument, complied.
“I know exactly how you’re feeling” he said quietly and Marigold leapt onto the table, pushing her head into Frank’s hands offering her own version of comfort. The cat let out a rumbling purr as Frank absently scratched behind her ears and Eliza allowed the soothing sound to wash over her. The cat and the tea and the calm ambience of the shop helping to stifle the panic and dread that had been clinging to her all day.
“I’ve been alive for a long time Eliza. I’ve seen a lot of things and for every friend I lost and war I fought and home I’ve had to leave I used to wonder those things as well. What’s the point of it all?”
Marigold let out a complaining chirp when Frank stopped petting her and not one to argue with the fussy cat Frank continued.
“What’s the point of continuing century after century when all I seem to find is heartache and bloodshed and loss? But you know I realised something one day. For me to have lost something I would have had to gain something in the first place”
“Do you know how many friends I’ve had Miss Potter? How many languages I’ve learned and countries I’ve visited? And yes I’ve lost people along the way but look around you. I keep them alive, and I keep them with me”
And he was right. Hadn’t he told her he had started this shop to help remember all those he had lost through the years? He wasn’t a nihilist, didn’t wallow in existential dread. He was one of the kindest individuals Eliza had ever met.
And if anyone knew how to help her with the pitfalls of immortality it would be him.
“Many things are inevitable Eliza - death is but just one of them”
Eliza absently clenched her hand around Jormy’s fang, buried deep within her pocket “I miss him”
“You’ll miss him forever” Frank acknowledged solemnly, a deep understanding settling between them. It wasn’t an empty platitude. She would miss him forever, because Eliza had forever and a day worth of life ahead of her. And she would miss each and every person she would loose along the way. But maybe, maybe just like Frank she would find ways to carry on.
She had always been a survivor first and foremost.
“And what do we do in the mean-time?”
Frank shared a conspiring smile, as if he knew all the secrets to the universe and then some even after that. The solemn air around them suddenly disappeared, as if nothing could bare to be sad in Frank’s presence.
“In the meantime – we drink more tea”
And impossibly Eliza began to feel just that tiny bit better, breathing that bit easier and that stinging horrible heart-ache seemed to dull, even if it was only for a moment.
Privately she couldn’t help but think that Remus’ tea was just that bit better. She supposed she would have forever and a day to find anything that would ever be able to beat it.