[ It might not be what he had in mind, but Hermione thinks it might be what he needed. He's surrounded by people who want him to be better, to be happy, to be - good, and okay, but she knows that it's not that easy. Hermione has experienced that herself, and the pressure you can put on your own shoulders can be too much.
Turning her head back, she squeezes his hand, holding onto him gently. ]
That's alright. I think you probably needed this. I don't mind at all.
[He's spoken to people, in fits and starts. Not so much lately; when he was fresh and raw from coming back to the Fleet, it had spilled out of him more, not yet confined by his own natural inclination towards silence. None of his conversations have been quiet like this, though. No one has told him outright what be believes is true.
There's value in that, bitter though it might taste at times.]
[ Hermione imagines talking to people isn't the same as having someone empathise and lay things down in the way she had - there was no beating around the bush, and perhaps that had felt wrong, at first, but... Evidently it had been the right thing to do. She's been through enough that she knows idle kindnesses like that often weren't exactly welcome. ]
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Turning her head back, she squeezes his hand, holding onto him gently. ]
That's alright. I think you probably needed this. I don't mind at all.
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I don't know what I need anymore.
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There's value in that, bitter though it might taste at times.]
...thank you.
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Of course, Erik. Any time.