There was no point arguing with the idea of staying for dinner, that much was obvious; Hermione was well-enough versed in the ways of harmlessly bossing people around to know that Martha had made a statement rather than asked a question. She listened intently, a deep furrow between her brows and a serious look on her face- the sort that was so solemn it was almost comical, or at least certainly was when she was much younger.
It wasn't that it sounded unlikely. Everything here sounded unlikely. And that was what was really sinking in. She was in a world that didn't make sense, a world she didn't understand at all, in the cottage of a woman who has doctored aliens and was Professor Snape's- something. Her eyes darted to Martha's hands to assuage a slightly horrified curiosity- and yes. That was a ring on her wedding finger.
She had to be reading this wrong.
It only made everything more surreal, really.
"I don't think you're mad," she said earnestly. Not even if you have married him, though I do think you're extremely brave. "Honestly. After today- well, either it's all true, or I'm mad, and I'd prefer to think the former. I think. Um- sorry, could we sit down?"
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It wasn't that it sounded unlikely. Everything here sounded unlikely. And that was what was really sinking in. She was in a world that didn't make sense, a world she didn't understand at all, in the cottage of a woman who has doctored aliens and was Professor Snape's- something. Her eyes darted to Martha's hands to assuage a slightly horrified curiosity- and yes. That was a ring on her wedding finger.
She had to be reading this wrong.
It only made everything more surreal, really.
"I don't think you're mad," she said earnestly. Not even if you have married him, though I do think you're extremely brave. "Honestly. After today- well, either it's all true, or I'm mad, and I'd prefer to think the former. I think. Um- sorry, could we sit down?"