Theo shook his head once, hard like a fly had buzzed him and crossed his arms over his chest in a gesture that was purely protective. "No, no I can't, no cleaning, no charms, nothing, no." he said, his tone distressed and wounded in some way that wasn't immediately apparent. They'd taken his wand five years ago; he'd done no magic since.
He didn't touch the toy, although he wanted to. He wanted it to come alive before him, the lines of a form as thin as he was, thinner, tattered like his mind, elegant and graceful in a way he didn't feel anymore. He went quiet, gone away like Alice in his head, wandering lost and blind and waiting on something to bring him back out.