His fingers stroked the slightly rounded toe. He teased and tickled the bow, smiling to himself as his fingers fluttered over the black velvet. He ran...his fingers softly down the outside of the shoe, fingertips fluttering over the kitten heel. He turned the shoe over, gazing almost in wonder at the curves of the sole. He brought the shoe up to his face, inhaling the scent of new leather and shoe dye.His lips brushed the heel, pushing it into his mouth as his lips sucked on the hard. But who knew? Because he never said anything either.After he had died, Hermione had turned him into sort of an obsession. She had gone to Warwick University, near Coventry, and spent hours and hours buried in psychology papers and studies of childhood development. Finally, she had figured out what was wrong with him. He had reactive attachment disorder. And it made her want to kill the Dursleys. Because it was ultimately their fault he was dead.He hadn't been able to bond with anyone, because. More

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