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[theshabbiestofmen]

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[majestyofthethrone]

Next time I'll just come find you.

[Because on this ship, there's always a next time, isn't there? She doesn't want to ever be stabbed again.]

[theshabbiestofmen]

I should . . . Sirius and James and I ought to work on magical protections. Something that non-magical people can carry around.

[He glances over at her.]

I don't want to see you hurt again.

[majestyofthethrone]

[She reaches for his hand and grips it, squeezing it tight, her fingers snagged around his. It's a way of saying thank you, and of connecting, and of reassuring all at once.

She holds on for a moment before she lets go to type again.]

Well I won't tell you not to worry about me, but I'll do better to stay out of trouble.

[theshabbiestofmen]

Thank you.

[A small smile, and then he nods toward the elevator.]

Up or down?

[majestyofthethrone]

[She looks at the chalk and points up. She's not sure which floor she was on, but they're bound to find it, and she doesn't think she was below the sixth floor.]