[Harry understands her hesitation. Oh, does he understand. Only a few hours ago, he'd been home in Sirius' flat, the narrow apartment less musty and old and webbed with dingy secrets, helping his family put away his old crib and a few other things. They'd decided to do it the Muggle way, so they could turn things over with their hands instead of floating things by with magic.]

That might be true, [he answers.] But I think it'll start to fade away, now that you know it's not real. Now that you won't fall into the trap. [He suspects it's because the ship doesn't want them to have nice things unless they're bought into the lie, hook line and sinker; the crueller part of the trick.] I don't think it's meant to be a real sanctuary. But I'll stay with you here, if you like. [His fingers tighten on hers a moment and he smiles at her, not optimistic, but willing.

Not optimistic at all, really. The music has already stopped. Harry adds firmly,] As long as you want.