"No," he tells her again, and now he takes her hand in hers and squeezes it. "Whatever your hand did, if your will wasn't in it, then it wasn't you."

He breathes, quiet and soft. But breathing even so, as he wraps his arms around her. "I saw the remains." Like a wild animal had savaged it. He understands now what it meant.

"You're my friend, Hermione. Always will be."