Kendra/Gellert/Albus Fun
Something subtle in his eyes, and deeper in his core, saddened when he was compelled to acknowledge that had she the strength, coercion might have been a viable option. Although he doubted anyone else nearby had taken much notice of the conversation, he suspected Gellert caught the implication. The idea of Gellert as an audience to what his mother might have preferred to be a private conversation wasn't one from which he shied. He had little desire to keep things concealed from Gellert, and at least this way he didn't have to recount her sentiments to him later.
Taking the boxes from her, he said, "I'm sorry to hear you're not feeling better. Ariana is a little concerned, I think." He knew better than to ask if his mother would like to see Ariana. She'd have been easy enough to find, but there was no point when he already knew the answer. He knew what the boxes contained; it wasn't hard to guess. She meant well, he knew she did, but he also couldn't deny the limitations of her mentality. They weren't limits to be broken, but to be negotiated with. "Thank you, that's very thoughtful."
And some part of it was heartening, that she was at the very least able to accept that he would, in fact, be living in this particular home. His lack of comment on her religious views was, as he saw it, the gentlest possible dismissal of them.