Lost little lamb

Basilisk tucked the glimmer of his playful self back down again and gently hugged Ignita to him. “You're not Hazel, and I don't expect you to be.” Would that name ever get any easier to say? He patted the back of her head lightly, watching her carefully for any signs the tears would come out again. “I need you to be Ignita, do you think you can manage that?” He asked, his voice soothing with a hint of tease. 

He tugged her gently up, getting back on his paws. “Come on, let's get out of the cold.” He had a present for her, inspired by something he had seen at the Hallows. He led her gently back to her den. There den, for the moment. He was yet to go back to the den he had shared with Hazel.