She could tell he was worn out, and it made her feel guilty--she knew he wasn't in peak condition, even if she didn't know why he wasn't. She really, really, really wished that she could walk on her own--it was sweet enough of him to find her and help her out, she hadn't intended for him to carry her, especially not while sick.
Esme could feel his arms tighten around her, which surprised her for a moment. She hadn't really expected that reaction. She hadn't known WHAT she'd been expecting, but it hadn't been that. "Yeah," she said softly, sounding a bit sad but obviously trying to cover it up. "Um, pretty much since I found out I was going to Hogwarts. My parents are really religious," she said. "They uh, didn't take well to me being a witch."
It was so shockingly freeing to say it out loud. She'd told people before, of course, but never of her own will. They'd always found out through some mix-up or slip of the tongue, and it'd always been painful to explain. This was still painful, but it was like she was taking ownership of it.
She giggled slightly at the comment about his color. "Yeah, I don't know what happened. At least he's easy to spot, though."