Peter ducked his head, not quite able to meet her eyes even as she got more face to face with him. London wasn't home, and he didn't fit there, and he missed his parents... but he shouldn't say that. Not to a stranger, at least. He shrugged instead, clamming up.
Her explanation, though, that caught his attention. "Magic? Real magic?" He wasn't sure if it should be a comfort or a bad sign that she thought it was magic. If monsters were real, why not magic too? It would explain how he'd gotten here. But if it was real, who was to say whether it was a good or bad thing?
At first, he shied away from her hand, drawing back into the safety of the closet. She was still a stranger, after all. ...But Amy she was nice, and she believed in magic. From that alone, she had to be better than a lot of the other people in his life the past two years. Hesitantly, Peter reached out one small hand and took hers.