She notices the way he relaxes, too, as she had the way he tensed up. She kisses his shoulder - it's okay, she is sorry, and she is proud of him all in one - and steps back a bit.

"Godric got me a small miracle," she offers instead, reaching to pull the small gold, heartshaped locket up from the collar of her shirt. The way she smoothly pops it open with one hand speaks to how often she's done exactly this, holding it out to show him the picture inside of it: a woman only a little older than she is now, with her steady eyes and thick black hair and stubborn jawline.