"I'm tired. I'd like to go inside." Emptiness reigned in her voice again. Without argument he nodded, and stood, removing himself from her personal space and kept his back to her as she rose and slowly retreated inside. When he was sure she was far enough away, he pulled his wand and recast the warming charm as he began to walk a slow circle around the pond, deep in thought. Though she still had these brief moments where she seemed almost like the same woman he had met and bedded in Italy, they didn't happen often, and didn't last long. He hadn't been close enough to her at Hogwarts, even after she and Draco had gotten together, to know if she had been that reserved and quiet while a student, but he seriously doubted it. Those moments, though, were becoming increasingly fewer and further between, and he wasn't the only one who was worried. They didn't know what to do for her. They were running out of ideas on how to engage her, how to pull her back from whatever cliff she was standing at. Because he knew that she was teetering on some internal edge. He could see it in the way she moved. Hear it in the way that she spoke. The closest she had come to being almost completely normal was when she had (almost certainly) been considering stabbing Astoria at Theo's party. The temper in her eyes when Draco spoke to her was the strongest emotion he'd seen from her in months.