He opened his mouth, wanting to speak but not knowing what to say. He knew he ought to bow, considering the titles Malfoy had bestowed upon themselves, but it was too strange. Seeing her now, stately and beautiful and haunted, brought a lump to her throat. Every time he had seen her since her kidnapping there had been such a weighted tension in her shoulders that made him wonder when it would snap. He thought of who she had been once, when they had both been free, and grieved.