This was so much to take in. Molly had nearly reached her threshold of things that she needed to process, and don't doubt it, she was processing quite a bit. She'd been torn from her home, right before an important battle where Harry needed her, where a little girl needed her, she'd just worked, at his own request, some fairly questionable magic on the man she trusted more than anything, and signed his death warrant by doing it, and now she was in a strange place, with wings, where magic felt - fuzzy - clothed in some stranger's great coat with bandages on her feet and walking towards a village where people were being kept, where children were being kept... she really needed to sit down and study this guide.

And also procure shoes. And her own clothes.

God help me.

"Do you think they'd be willing to lend a cup of coffee? I've been trying to give up caffeine, but I think today calls for it."

Flippancy was occasionally her friend.