Offerings of comfort and positivity are brought to a halt in the face of Peter's words. She grows still, but it might not seem like it with the way her heart begins to race. She'd been grasping his forearm, and her hold tightens to keep herself rooted.

"What are you talking about?" she whispers, beginning to shake her head and then getting caught in stillness midway again.

"Peter, the Green Goblin is Norman."

Harry would never -- Harry would never.