He hugged me, my old friend, cradling me in his arms even as Haralthazar-Miriam's Harry-embraced me with demon magic.
"Your father will be so happy to know you're all right," Harry said as he stroked my fur and smiled so wide his face threatened to crack. "We've all worried after you."
"I'm sure," I said, more sullen than I intended. "But it's very good to see you, too."
Harry frowned a little at Miriam. "How did the two of you come to know each other?"
While Harry and Miriam sat on the couch, with the few hours he had to spend on our plane, I told him everything while Miriam wept for me and wrung her hands, the only one of the Hayle witches to know my tale in full. Or, at least, the parts I was willing to share.
Harry finally shook his head and sat back, arm around Miriam who cuddled close to him. "An incredible account," he said.