Aly had wanted to see Benji just as soon as he'd seen Emilia at the Quidditch game. Of course he'd checked to see if they were both alive, when he'd first been given enough freedom to poke around. But he hadn't hardly imagined being able to reunite with them until Mimi... and then Benji had finally agreed.
He'd been patient, especially for him. He'd not just showed up like he was capable of.
If refraining from an impulse was a sign of love, well, he definitely loved those two he had helped to raise.
He appeared promptly at the time Mimi had given him, in a billow of smoke that wasn't smoke at all, and smelled, if there was a smell, of desert wind and exotic spices. It was silent and immediate, no apparation as wizards these days knew it, though perhaps it had been akin to it once.
He clapped his hands, his poofy, soft sleeves bouncing, his appearance as impeccable as almost always, though the children had seen him in almost every state of dishabille over the years simply because there were times even he didn't have time for a wardrobe or make up or good hair when you were taking care of twins. Middle of the night, middle of the day, sickness, injury, hwatever, he'd been there for pretty much all of it.
"Ah, both my poppets, beautiful as ever," he said happily. He hadn't, notably, chosen to glamour his golden amber, cat-slit pupiled eyes -- something they'd also grown up seeing around the house frequently,t hough when guests were around he'd worn the pretense of being a wizard.