"Ready?" He asked, holding his arm out. She nodded, twining her arm through his. It was a necessity, his support. She was walking on her own, able to traverse entire rooms without a helping hand, but her legs still shook like a newborn deer's after too much exertion. Together, they made their way down the steps (Blaise all but lifting her bodily as her legs quickly tired out), and into the first floor drawing room. A roaring fire was crackling away in the large hearth in the center of the room and Hermione aimed for the couches near to it. She was always cold, these days. The drafty Manor halls didn't help, but nothing short of sitting nearly on top of a fire fully held the chills at bay. Blaise guided her to a seat close to the fire and, with a brush of his hand down her hair (that she dutifully ignored), he stepped away, heading for the tables of food and drink Daisy and the elves had set out.