His voice was lacklustre, but the corner of her mouth ticked up in a ghost of a smile. Perhaps she’d misinterpreted it as a joke, or perhaps she was tired enough to not care if it was or wasn’t. Either way, she chewed on her bottom lip, unable to keep from taking in his appearance. He looked as tired as she felt, and she wondered if he'd been getting the same amount of sleep as her. She wanted to ask him about it, to ask if he was alright and receive his usual antagonizing smirk. But any question she was about to ask died on her lips as her gaze caught the flicker of his eyes down to her hand.

Once again, she stopped, her hands dropping by her sides as if they were made of lead. “True,” she said, exhaling in a weak attempt at a laugh. She flexed her fingers by her side before her hand twitched of its own accord; a reminder how tired she was — how tired he looked, and how it would serve them both if they got this over as quickly as possible.

Even so, she didn’t want to see his reaction when he heard her request, so she started to pace, tracing a new path in the floor that mirrored the same one in her bedroom back home. There was no other way to say it than to blurt it out and let the words hang between them: “I need you to perform Legilimency on me.”

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