It was his natural inclination. He was a leader, a protector, and Hermoine seemed so young to him. It was one thing to come to her for answers on curios matters, for little facts. Quite another to need to lean on her, to need her to have answers for the deeper issues. Those, he thought, were not yet something she need be saddled with, and like any good brother he did what he could to protect her from that, or at least give her somewhere to unload the burden those things created.

"I might have time for one," he smirked, shoving Atlas' muzzle away again.