She certainly didn’t look like she believed a word he’d said. Maybe she was just a little shy; maybe he ought not to have called her clumsy to her face - although he was now stooping back down to gather up all the matches she’d scattered to set the undamaged ones back in the box, the muggle way, so hopefully that was enough to project that he only meant well.

And when she spoke at last, it was with such... sober delivery that it took a moment for Elias to decide whether she was being purposefully deadpan or just horribly serious. His eyebrows drew together a little in bemusement, though he tried to hide it; but whether it was a joke or not, it was at his expense and was entirely fair, so he did crack a smile all the same. “Yes,” he returned, a tinge of surprise still in his amused tone, “yes, I expect you’re right.” A little awkwardly, he held out the matchbox to her again, even though she seemed to be quite determinedly not looking. “But you’re - alright to get back into the garden the usual way, I suppose, Miss...?” Elias added, nodding his head at the place from whence she’d fallen, before managing a better grin with the teasing offer: “Or do you need me to clear you a gap for the Scamanders’ new gate?”

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