Cash draped one arm over her torso; they had always been casually touchy people, and this was essentially the one room in Britain where he could get away with it. He didn't want to tell her. He knew that if he was going to get better he needed to tell people, at least a little, because — well, mostly because he needed people to keep an eye on him. But Angie was the person who knew him best, who had the most context, and she was the one person he could never lie to, even if he didn't bother with lying to anyone most of the time.

The confession itched. She was going to be disappointed, he was pretty sure.

"It's just — I ran into a — weird Spirit Division thing," Cash said, because he could not say dementor, even if it was Angie. "And it reminded me that — or it made me think that — sometimes I want to. But I'm not going to."

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