            Sirius blew out a long sigh. "Oh, kitten," he murmured, joining her on the bed. Hermione pushed the tray away and climbed backwards, so they could both lean against the headboard. Not quite touching, legs splayed out across the crumpled sheets. "I’m not upset. Just shocked at what happened. It’s not every day you’re dragged from the dead, you know." She let out a hiccuped laugh. "And I am certainly not upset that it was you who did the dragging." He put a hand in the space between them, palm up. Hermione laid hers inside, marveling at the warmth, the faint fizz of magic radiating from his fingertips. "But you’re right that I did not really know you, Hermione. You were what, thirteen when we met?"