"I'm rather impressed with your progress."
Eyes locked on his arm-
"In all honesty, I never thought your goal achievable."
-his shriveled, decaying, arm.
"But, my dear, you've convinced me this is positively possible."
His preventably cursed arm.
"Why, you may just achieve a working array by year's end!"
She stared as guilt slowly clawed at her throat.
"And become the youngest Alchemy Master in the West."
She trembled, and Dumbledore just...laid a-wholehealthyfine-hand on her shoulder.
"This was not your fault."
"But I-" forgot.
Blue eyes twinkled.
"My choices are never your fault."