Harry felt like he was under pressure. Like a coiled spring ready to lash out at something. He was frustrated to the nth degree. And angry. It could be the knight's influence, but even when things were going to hell at home, there was usually something to hit by wow.
And he really, really wanted to hit something. Hard.
"None taken, you might be right. She could have missed something."
If the Nevernever's projection of London went through Winter this time of year, she was certainly right. Harry didn't believe it though. He'd spent his whole life building his mother up to legendary status in his mind. Nobody could navigate the pathways better than she could and he clung to that belief as tenaciously as a child would.