Funny how a simple head nod to affirm something Percy already knew could be a jab in the heart, confirming that the happy life he had always envisioned for Maggie had been cut short by tragedy. His heartbreak always come with the comfort that Maggie was happy, safe, provided for. Her’s was a different sort, a finality that could never go away. There was no comfort in that.

He had always known there would be children, but the utterance of their existence was still a mild shock to his system. There would of course, had to have been children, but he’d never sought out information about Maggie, had never lingered enough to find out. Now he found himself nodding rotely in response to this new knowledge. “It must be difficult.” He murmured politely, entirely out of his depth with this conversation.

There was the Maggie he remembered, ready to make a joke to settle everything at ease around her. He left out a soft amused snort at her comment. “Well, if there is some way I can help, please let me know.” Doubtful that she would take him up on the offer, but Percy couldn’t seem to resist it. It would hurt him every time to see her this way, but it hurt him more to know that he might be able to help Maggie and that he turned away from it.

“Perhaps the best way to help,” Percy started, trying to lighten his offer to something more reminiscence of her cheerful courage, “Is to get this lift started again.” He stepped toward the grate, wand out, as he thought. It was likely neither of them wished to remain stuck here for long, after all they had narrowly avoided a huge argument, and Percy did have Mrs. Skeeter’s summon and she did not suffer tardiness well.