This was a February he hadn't seen before, and it scared him. She was supposed to be snappy, witty, and even angry; she usually had an open stance, not a closed-off, protective one. He instinctively took a step forward and placed his hands on the sides of her upper arms, though did make any attempt to get closer—not yet.

"Please," he murmured again. "Just let me... Just let me make it better." Being an auror meant making a lot of situations better, but usually those situations didn't involve a girl he cared about, neither did they involved situations he'd been the one to cause. He hated that she could do this to him.

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