You say the rest of it to Malfoid, and the rest of it is worse, and it takes longer, and she does not once interrupt.

The fetch is losing its shape in the doorway. Not dramatically. It is simply getting harder to look at, the way a word gets harder to read when you stare at it.

MalfoidThere. You have said it. Now say it again with your hands, because I have waited four years for the sentences and I am not stopping at the sentences.

The contract says once. Nobody in the room has ever been able to leave a thing at once, and the fetch is still there, dimming, and waiting to see.