It wasn't relief, he didn't think, that exploded through him when she agreed that he wasn't terrible. Something, though, flowed through him when she admitted that a hopeful smile starting to break across his face and his heart pounding at an increased pace as she seemed ready to lean in and press a kiss to his lips. When she pulled back so abruptly it took him a concerted effort to not let the disappointment flicker across his face.

"Yes. I should," he insisted. "I should have been weeks back." Taking a look about and not seeing anyone, he grabbed her by the waist and lifted her to the floor, slipping his arm around her waist and moving her into the stacks near the back. He ignored her quiet insistence that she really needed to get back to work; the books, he assured her, wouldn't be going anywhere.

Finding what he hoped to be a promising location in a back section near what appeared to be rather outdated reference materials, he turned and looked down at her, his arm slipping from her waist and his hand taking her own. His other moved up, fingers gentling her cheek. "I went all wrong about it. About telling you what I...what I am. I should never have just sprung it all on you. You might find it strange, but we have many in the Wizarading society who find Muggles even more distasteful than you find magic. They're wrong; we're all the same. Flesh and blood; needs and wants." He paused, a sad smile tugging at his lips, "My mum was a Muggle. She'd have liked you; she'd have done a better job explaining what I am - what my Da and my brother are - than I have."

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Miri -- Doesn't know when to KICK SOMEONE. (11/12)