His eyes swept the flat, the hodgepodge of furniture and the bright colors, all of which embodied Dora's eclectic, warm personality. He loved her, he did; he just couldn't stay and watch her realize what a disservice he'd done her.
"They may be wrong," he said quietly, "but I don't see this ending quickly." He didn't even know if it would truly end. "The Order won't stop my child from fearing me. It won't stop the child from taking after me. What will you do, if it does? What will you do when it changes? You won't be able to take care of it, and neither will I. I don't even know if Wolfsbane would work on an infant. Dora, you don't even know how it will affect your pregnancy! Did you ask? Did you tell the Healer?"
He didn't think she had, but couldn't look at her, not when she was begging him and saying she wouldn't know what to do without him. He didn't want to do leave, but he could see no other way of making this better for her. His presence would make things worse.
"You'll be better off," he said in a brittle voice. "Stay with your parents, where it's safe."