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“I can help you with that stammer,” she told him, smiling.
“How do you know it’ll work?” he asked.
“You saved me,” Xeno said; his version of ‘thank you.’
In their own little sphere, ensconced by the walls of swaying green, Capria placed a delicate hand on Xeno’s shoulder. His skin warmed at her touch. He smiled.
Together, they’d ventured into the attic, Capria squealing in delight as Xeno explained each object in his eclectic collection. They’d trudged through the snow, making snow-hippogriffs and catching snowflakes on their tongues. They’d told stories to the neighborhood children together, of Hogwarts and magic, tales that the children would never guess were true.
"You don’t argue, Xeno. You’re a quibbler.”
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