He does not tell her, For now. He does not explain that when he holds her hands like this he can see the withering and the decay, the age lines, the bones that will come through. He doesn't say that his whole damned life has just been a Victorian Gothic and this fairytale moment will go like all the rest of them.
No. He answers, "Sure. I'll try it," because it is better to try and keep living, because if he doesn't there is no point to being immortal. And there must be a point to it, a reason, so he gets to his feet, pulls her with him. He holds out his wand, spins it in a circle, and he tries to think of Hermione, of only Hermione, of their friendship—"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"
Oh.
Well. At least there was something. If not much.
Dorian glances at Hermione, and actually, there's a little grin on his lips. "I swear, this has never happened before."
no subject
No. He answers, "Sure. I'll try it," because it is better to try and keep living, because if he doesn't there is no point to being immortal. And there must be a point to it, a reason, so he gets to his feet, pulls her with him. He holds out his wand, spins it in a circle, and he tries to think of Hermione, of only Hermione, of their friendship—"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"
Oh.
Well. At least there was something. If not much.
Dorian glances at Hermione, and actually, there's a little grin on his lips. "I swear, this has never happened before."
(He hopes she won't actually get the joke.)