There wasn't any harm in tea, and also, he had been promised jam. Even so, there is a . . . knot, when he thinks on it. When he thinks on what this means. There is something that eats away at his sense of who he is, of what he does. How he relates to people.

The love that he once bore for her simply isn't something he is capable of now. That part of him is gone.

Except that the love remains.

He doesn't fret over clothing, no need to, and he nods at the guards as they let him past even as they observe again how strange he has been, how different, how changed. (There are rumours of a bodysnatcher.) But that easy confident sort of trips over itself a little there as he steps in and sees Hermione.

"I, uh. Am here."

Nailed it.