"I got tea," Lafayette tells her. "But you only got three kinds to choose from. Iced, chamomile, or chai."

He gives the door a last glance to make certain that all of the bolts are in place, before waving Hermione over to a sofa loaded with blankets and pillows, all mismatched. Like nearly everything else in the apartment. In one corner is a small, pink artificial tree, with its rainbow lights still glowing.

"And I ain't sure it ever a good time for this, honestly," he says, with wry sincerity. "But staying ignorant twice as bad, so now's better than tomorrow. Thanks for comin.'"