Saoirse couldn't help but feel like she was missing something upon the appearance of Louis Bonaccord in her hospital room. What was he... her brow rose in genuine surprise as he walked in, and any sense of confusion within her was quickly pushed aside by her sheer... astonishment? Shock? No, just simple surprise. She had never thought, nor assumed that he thought, or cared, for her enough to constitute a visit like this, here.
And with flowers? Her eyes tightened as she caught a sight of them briefly behind his back, but chose not to react to them any further than that. Perhaps he felt poorly concerning the now apparently attention-worthy story surrounding her and Thomas, and felt... sympathy? Saoirse pushed her palms down on the mattress, shifting herself up into a proper sitting position. That sounded asinine, even within the confines of her own mind.
It was, most likely, and more honestly, just another recognition of how differently they had viewed their acquaintanceship over the years. Friendship? Saoirse frowned, finding even now it was difficult to discern between the subtle competitiveness Slughorn had driven between them.
Had something happened to Professor Slughorn? Saoirse shook her head, feeling herself sit at much more attentiveness than before.
"You came to see me," she said slowly, pointedly, thinking that if he didn't want to be here, then he shouldn't have come, no matter what obligation he felt was hanging over him.
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