Thoreau was bruised all over, but he liked it. It was a very comfortable sort of bruising that made him feel at home in his own skin for the first time in a while, and he was sober too. That had not been as nice, but he was kind of getting used to having feelings and being aware of what was going on around him. He just hadn't actually seen any of his friends for a while.
He knocked on the door to Pansy's flat, holding a box of the macarons he'd put together for her the night before. Being sober had definitely improved his baking skills.
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