Somehow, in the midst of the celebration they became separated. A second ago they were pressed up against their best friend by the crowd of people celebrating; now he's nowhere to be found. She begins to panic. She needs to find him. She needs to feel his arms wrapped around tightly around her, needs to know that this victory isn't a dream.
She finds him alone at … was it the Ravenclaw table? It was impossible to tell anymore. His bright red hair the only thing making him stand out in a sea of dust.
She is behind him in what feels like one giant step. She reaches out her hand to touch him but hesitates. She know she shouldn't disturb him, knows he needs to mourn the loss of his brother. But she needs to feel him, needs to know this is real.
She places her hand lightly on his shoulder. She is so relived to feel his is really there and not in her head. She hears his name involuntarily escape from her lips, barely audible over the commotion in the Great Hall.
Without a word from him she feels herself being pulled around to his front. She finds herself in between his knees with his arms around her waist.
Before either of them can say a word his head is buried in her stomach. He holds her so tight she thinks she might explode.
She feels his entire body heave and hears him choke on a sob.
Her breath catches in her throat. She was so concerned with finding him, needing his comfort that she hadn't consider he might need her just as bad, if not more.
They have so much to talk about; the kiss, what it means for them, where it leaves them. But for now she would hold him.
Hold him and let him cry.
Her comfort would come later.
