"Practically a lifetime," she corrects, and them smiles gently, running her thumb over his knuckles. She's not checking for broken bones, not running diagnostics, but she'd be lying if she said that she doesn't let some of her magic slip and seep some warmth into his arm.

"I've missed it too," she admits. "Is Sophia still as beautiful as I remember it?" She'd visited him once, after Hogwarts, but then the war had broken and they'd been on separate and distant shores, fighting the good fight, living day to day. She barely remembers Sophia as a whole, except for the poetry club they'd ended up in, completely by accident, while trying to find a place to have a tea in.