#11 - She wasn't going to let go of him.

She wasn't going to let go of him. Not after everything. Never again, irrationally.

The words they needed didn't seem so important now, knowing they had survived, he had kissed her back, and he didn't want her to go.

With her clinging to his jumper, he awkwardly limped them up the stairs to the boys' dormitory. She didn't question his direction, only knowing she would follow, anywhere. And he for her.

"He's gone," Ron muttered, as they pushed through the half-open door to the empty seventh year room, late morning light glinting through two levels of diamond-paned windows, all around, making them squint.

And she wasn't sure if his words had been for Harry… or his brother Fred.

She forcibly tried to hold back tears that she silently cursed when they finally fell… when he saw. His arm tightened around her, tugging her against his chest and dropping his face to the top of her head. If he wanted to speak, now was the time he might do it. And while she craved his voice and his words, she wanted nothing more now than his comforting presence. And when he pulled away again, linking their hands and licking his lips, she felt her breath catch in her throat… her eyes dart toward his narrow bed…

"Do you want to stay?" he asked tentatively, and she found his eyes, shining in the light from the windows.

She nodded, but more specific questions formed on the tip of her tongue. Where, exactly, did he want her to stay?

But then, he didn't give her enough time to be afraid. Ducking his head in all his bravery, he wrapped a hand round the back of her neck and kissed her gently on the lips. Her knees turned to jelly as she gripped his jumper in two trembling fists.

When he pulled back, maybe a bit too soon, she found it already hard to catch her shivering breath.

A light blush coloured his cheeks as he smiled.

"Reckon no one's used my bed," he said scratchily, glancing over at the perfectly made, puzzlingly narrow thing, curtains tucked back. Had it always been so small? Or was it just now, as she was faced with joining him behind those curtains, that it really appeared so?

"How'd you ever fit in that tiny thing?" she asked at a near-whisper.

He chuckled, shaking his head.

"Don't think it'll work?"

"What?" she puzzled.

"You and me."

"Oh," she blushed, questions fully answered. She smiled and clutched his hand tighter. "It'll be fine. If you want me here, then I'm not letting go of you."

"'Course I want you."

She found it impossible to swallow the lump forming in her throat, eyes prickling as his own glistened brilliantly.

Removing her wand from her pocket, she swished it about the room, closing the long, hanging curtains over the windows. And, tugging him forward, she toed off her shoes by his bed, catching him staring as she untucked his sheets and quilted blanket with her free hand.

"What took us so long?" he asked in a quiet, thoughtful voice.

She stared up at him, tears silently falling as she shook her head.

He let go of her hand to hold her face in both of his hands. He pressed his forehead to hers and closed his eyes. And she reached up to hold his wrists, feeling so heavy on her feet that she feared she might collapse.

They separated only long enough to remove their jeans and dirty jumpers, climbing into bed and reaching for each other again, heads together on his pillow, so close to the edges that they risked falling off. But he held her closer and they were suddenly tangled together, his shaking arm tugging the sheets and quilt up over them.

Exhausted, she stared back into the eyes of the person she wanted to spend her life with, the only one she'd ever loved the way she loved him. God, if only he could know, could understand what he meant to her, before he fell asleep. Somehow.

But then his hand was in her hair, the words vanished between them, and he sighed, her fingers sliding under his shirt, up his spine.

He kissed the tip of her nose. She remembered the way she had mourned when he'd left them… and the clever way he'd understood her, time after time, in his own words… the ones she somehow knew he'd say to her. Soon.

And the fact that, had she wanted to, she could have easily widened his bed to make this easier… But she hadn't. And maybe he knew it as he smiled so softly across at her.

And at least she could be suddenly certain that he knew she would never leave him. And he, she marveled, would never leave her.