There's the slightest spark of amusement and recognition in her eyes as it began to rotate without any obvious effort on his behalf. It's a weird, bittersweet feeling, one that almost made her wish she could be frank with him. She had walked away that day making peace with the notion that they would be strangers from that moment on, a bitter pill more easily grappled with when she was spurred on by the heat of her anger.

She could never stay that angry though. The fire of it ebbed away and left remorse and ash behind; Lily didn't regret telling him off and storming away, he had deserved that much for what he said, but that she had let that bridge burn as long as she had, had closed herself off to him, and leaned into things that made it easier to put it all behind her. Lily had been so certain that it was for the best at first, but over time there was room for doubt.

Her gaze lifted from the pizza she was baking from beneath long enough to glance in his direction, those doubts seeming to jump and bristle inside her at the sight of him.

Lily wanted to say so much to him. She wanted to ask if the choices he'd made had brought him anything close to the peace of mind he hadn't had when they were younger, she wanted to know what new things he'd come up with magically speaking, and how his potions were coming along. She missed knowing, she missed her friend.

"If you do end up in London sometime you could come around for tea if you like." For what felt like the hundredth time that night her mouth had made the decisions for her and let spill things that were closer to what she wanted, rather than what she knew to be prudent and sensible.