Chapter Twenty-One – A Moment of Happiness

It was the morning of Christmas Day when Daphne found herself in her dormitory, deep in the Slytherin dungeons, in front of her mirrored table. In front of her was a whole range of Charming Witch products, which she had ordered by owl post, as she was about to put on her make-up. If someone had told her this a year ago, she would probably have laughed, but times were changing.

Of course, she wouldn't go overboard like Pansy Parkinson or Lavender Brown, she didn't want to look like a clown. But Daphne couldn't deny that a little make-up here and there could make an amazing impression. And that was exactly what she wanted: To make an impression. She wanted to look good for Harry, because she knew there were plenty of girls out there who would be only too happy to pounce on him like a crow on a defenceless mouse. But Harry was hers. She knew he felt the same, that what they shared was something unique, far beyond the usual relationships of young witches and wizards. But that didn't mean she wasn't interested in being physically attractive to him, too.

And she noticed that she liked it, too, when she looked at herself in the mirror. Especially the dark eye shadow she had applied; she liked the way it brought out her eyes. And then there was the black nail polish that shimmered in the greenish light of the lamps. Black was just her colour, and it complemented the way she wanted people to look at her. She was no little princess, and she did not want anyone to think she was.

Daphne was about to use her wand to apply some magic lip gloss to make her lips shine when something moved behind her. In the mirror she saw the curtains of one of the beds being pushed aside to reveal the sleepy figure of her roommate, Tracey Davis. Tracey was wearing Slytherin green pyjamas – whoever she was trying to prove something to with that – and her hair was standing on end. Wearily, she rubbed her eyes.

Tracey was the only other Slytherin in her year who had stayed at Hogwarts over the holidays. She hadn't said why, and the other girls hadn't asked either. In the end, though, it didn't really matter to Daphne that Tracey had decided to stay at the castle. It just meant that they slept in the same room at night and saw each other briefly in the morning.

However, Tracey was much friendlier to her during the holidays. Okay, not exactly friendly, at least if you took that to mean more than a neutral nod here and there, but still. Apparently, when they were alone, Tracey saw no need to mirror her other roommates and scowl and sneer at Daphne all the time. And why should she? Tracey certainly didn't need to prove to her that she was one of the good half-bloods, who knew her place in a world dominated by pure-bloods, who knew how to subordinate herself, who didn't show off and who naturally despised a traitor like Daphne. So what was the point of keeping it up if the people she was trying to convince weren't even there?

And so, over the last few days, a sort of truce had developed between the two girls, a kind of tacit agreement not to get in each other's way, not to get on each other's nerves, and otherwise to largely ignore each other.

So Daphne was all the more surprised when Tracey spoke to her the next moment.

"What are you doing?" Tracey asked.

Daphne looked at her through the mirror. "What does it look like?"

"I just mean it's unusual to see you like this, Greengrass. But it suits you." Tracey had said the last sentence so quietly that Daphne almost didn't hear it.

She turned to face her. "What did you say?"

Tracey returned her gaze. "You know, Greengrass, sometimes I really envy you."

Without explaining what she meant, Tracey got up and walked towards the bathroom. But now Daphne's interest was piqued, especially as Tracey had already said something similar to her a few months ago.

"It was my choice, Davis," she said. Tracey stopped and turned to her, but said nothing. And so Daphne continued. "It was my own choices that made me who I am. You can make your own choices too."

You don't have to be their stooge. That was what Daphne meant, but she didn't say it.

At her words, a shadow flitted across Tracey's face, just for a moment, before she returned to her usual expression. But her voice when she spoke afterwards betrayed a hint of inner turmoil, or so it seemed to Daphne. "I am not a powerful witch like you."

"Power only follows determination," Daphne said. "And I've seen what you can do in class. You're far more gifted than Pansy and Millicent."

Not that either of them had set the bar particularly high, but it didn't seem useful for Daphne to say that to her roommate.

"Unlike you, I can't take on adult wizards," Tracey continued. "And I don't have a shining knight to defend my honour."

Daphne frowned. That was a turn of phrase she hadn't expected. Were they still talking about the same things?

"And there was a price to pay for breaking away from your family, wasn't there?"

Now Daphne understood. She had already suspected that Tracey had a bad home life after their conversation on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters some time ago, and that suspicion had been reinforced when she had seen Tracey's boggart in Lupin's class.

"Everything has its price," Daphne replied.

Tracey looked at her, then nodded briefly. She turned and headed back to the bathroom.

"But some prices are worth paying," Daphne added.

Again Tracey stopped, her back still to Daphne. Several seconds passed without either of them saying a word. Then Tracey moved on and entered the bathroom. She was closing the door behind her when Daphne said one last thing.

"Can you please keep an eye on my sister?" Daphne looked hard at the crack in the door. "I've seen her spending more time with you now."

She couldn't see Tracey, but she imagined the girl giving her another brief nod. Then the bathroom door shut and Daphne was alone.

She shook her head. This had been a strange experience, though not the first she had had with Tracey. It confused her. It was obvious that Tracey had a lot on her mind, that she was unhappy with herself, but why didn't she do something about it? That was what she had done.

But she could brood all she wanted, Daphne decided, it would come to nothing. After all, every witch was the architect of her own happiness. Tracey had to figure out for herself how she wanted to make it in this world, or not.

With that thought, Daphne rose from her dressing table. She had to make her own happiness.

And so she reached for the new pair of leather gloves that had been on her bed this morning, black of course, what else? Harry knew her taste only too well. Next to the gloves had been a letter dripping with kitsch, which Daphne had already read a dozen times and knew by heart by now, and a box of the best sweets from Honeydukes. Her boyfriend was such a charmer.

I wonder what he will think of the way I look, she thought with an anticipatory smile as she left the dormitory.

Harry's footsteps echoed through the empty corridors of Hogwarts as he walked from Gryffindor Tower to the entrance hall. The castle was deserted, most of the students had left for the holidays, so it was unusually quiet and he didn't meet a soul the whole way. But he knew Daphne was waiting for him. For there was no other place for the two of them than the magical castle. No other home.

As he turned the last corner and descended the stairs to the entrance hall, he caught sight of her in the soft glow of the torches that lined the walls. And the sight of her took his breath away.

In his eyes, Daphne had always been pretty, the prettiest girl of the year, but today she was stunning. There was no other way he could describe her.

She wore a silky, shimmering black cloak that draped around her like a flowing shadow. Her pitch black hair fell over her back and shoulders, framing her graceful features. She was wearing her black dragon leather boots and in her hand she held the leather gloves he had given her this year, also black of course.

But what struck him most was her make-up. Dark eye shadow brought out her golden eyes and made them sparkle like precious jewels. And her fingernails were painted a deep, glossy black that matched her outfit perfectly and gave her appearance an edge he had never seen before. It exuded confidence and enchantment.

A smile spread across Daphne's face as she caught sight of him. Her lips glistened in the light of the torches and Harry could not escape the attraction she exuded. If he hadn't had a crush on her for months, he would have fallen head over heels for her by now.

"Hey," he said, walking towards her with a strange mixture of nervousness and excitement.

Daphne came up to him, her eyes sparkling in the torchlight. "Merry Christmas, Harry."

They reached out to each other and instinctively their lips met in a tender kiss. Daphne's lips were even softer than usual. That, and the scent of her hair in his nose, and the warmth of her body nestled against his, was enough to almost cloud his mind. Never could he have imagined a better Christmas present.

When they finally parted, a satisfied smile flitted across Daphne's face. "I was hoping for a reaction like that," she said. She must have sensed his feelings.

Harry returned her smile. He took her hands in his and stroked the leather of her gloves. "Do you like my present?"

"They are beautiful. Soft and supple, but also incredibly warm. I don't think my fingers will ever get cold again, even without a warming charm. But we need to talk about your corny letter. Who do you think I am?"

He laughed. "You are you, Daph. No one can get close to you."

"I am me," she agreed. "But tell me, how did you like my present?"

"Oh, I was delighted. Now I'll never have to clean Hedwig's cage again, it does it automatically now," Harry said, offering her his arm.

Daphne put her arm around his and together they walked out into the castle grounds. It was a beautiful morning and the light of the rising sun bathed the snowy landscape in a glorious orange light. A pleasant, cool breeze brushed over their faces and their boots crunched softly on the freshly fallen snow. Harry sighed contentedly. Now, this was a good way to start the day.

Their steps took them past the lake towards the edge of the forest. In the distance, smoke rose from the chimney of Hagrid's hut. So their friend was up too. Maybe they should pay him a visit later, Harry thought, as long as they could come up with a good excuse why they couldn't eat his rock cakes. His teeth still ached when he thought of the last time they had eaten them at Hagrid's and that had been after they had blown the cakes up with an explosion spell.

As they walked side by side, Daphne snuggled up against him. A comforting warmth spread through Harry. It wasn't just a physical reaction, for besides their bodies, their magic was also touching, connecting and intertwining, like the puffs of smoke from two blazing fires.

By now it was happening automatically, without either Daphne or him having to do anything. At first it had felt a little strange, as if there were suddenly two hearts beating in his chest instead of one, as if there was twice as much blood coursing through his veins, twice as much life power. But in time they had got used to it, and now they both only associated it with safety and security. At least Harry did, but he could sense through their bond that Daphne felt the same way. They had never felt the need to talk about it before, and why should they when they could feel each other's feelings so directly?

And there was something else that Harry felt. As always, when they indulged so much in the magic within and around them, an iron, bloody taste spread across his tongue. Others might have been repulsed by such a taste, but he welcomed it and all that it represented. It had become part of him.

But... it did interest him a little at that moment. Whether his girlfriend was experiencing the same thing he was.

He looked at her. A smile had settled on her face, not even a very big one, but it showed happiness and contentment. Whoever accused Daphne of being cold and distant should see her right now, he thought. Although, maybe not. No reason to give the other boys any ideas.

"Hey, Daph," he said.

Daphne looked at him. "Hm?"

"What are you tasting at the moment?"

The question seemed to catch Daphne off guard. She blinked at him, once, twice. "What am I tasting?"

Harry nodded. "When our magic linked, did you taste something? Or all the other times before?"

"Tasted? No. But ... I always get all warm. Here." Daphne put her right hand over her heart. "It feels good. I like this feeling. A lot." She looked at him questioningly. "You're tasting something?"

"Yes. That's why I thought, that's why I thought maybe you did too. That it would be the same for you."

Daphne paused. She took her arm from his and stood in front of him instead, placing her hands on his chest. "What are you tasting?"

"Blood."

Her amber eyes widened slightly. "Blood?"

Harry nodded. "Yes. But it's not disgusting or anything. I ... I like the taste." A little embarrassed, he ran a hand through his hair. "Is that weird?"

Daphne shook her head. "Not at all. I ..." She hesitated for a moment, as if thinking, then continued. "I have a hunch, Harry. But to test it, we need to share a special kiss. Are you ready for that?"

Her voice had taken on a seductive tone and a pleasant shiver ran down Harry's spine. "Ready to kiss you? Always."

A small smile played around Daphne's lips. "It won't be like our usual kisses. But we've kissed like this once before."

With that, she bit her lower lip. Harry winced, as if he felt the pain himself, but Daphne didn't even make a face. A deep cut had appeared in her lip, from which dark red blood was oozing.

"Kiss me, Harry, and drink my blood."

His heart was pounding. For a moment he wondered if he was dreaming all this, though he wasn't sure if it would be a nice dream or a disturbing one. It would probably depend on the dreamer's perspective, and his had been a rather peculiar one for some time. And so, without further thought, he leaned forward and placed his lips on Daphne's.

At first it felt like a normal kiss, but then Harry felt it. Daphne's blood, warm, hot, touching his lips. Again, a shiver ran down his spine. But it wasn't just about feeling her blood, they'd done that before. And so he changed the angle of his lips and opened his mouth slightly.

Daphne wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed against him. Her blood trickled into his mouth, onto his tongue. Harry tasted it, tasted it in all its intensity, and the taste was not foreign to him. It was as delicious as ever and it befuddled his mind. He swallowed. The taste of Daphne's magic raced through his body, setting his veins on fire.

Slowly they pulled away from each other. Daphne's face was full of curiosity, and as they looked at each other, the cut on her lip healed. Only the traces of blood on her lips remained. "What did it taste like?" she asked.

"Like when it happens with our magic," Harry said. "Or when it happened in that magic pool in the forest. I tasted it there too. But that means..."

"Yes, you tasted my blood, Harry."

Her words hung in the cold winter air for a few moments. Then it burst out of Harry. "Wow."

Daphne nodded. "Yeah, wow. But I think I know why." She was looking him straight in the eye now, and he could see his own reflection in her golden irises, as if she saw nothing but him. "Harry, I couldn't bear to see you die."

He tightened his grip around her waist. "I won't –"

"You came close once," Daphne cut him off. "In the chamber, when the basilisk's venom consumed you."

Harry understood. "When you saved my life. You... gave me your blood to drink?"

"I had to somehow transfer the basilisk's life power to you. I had no other choice. Do you find that strange?" A hint of vulnerability flashed across Daphne's pretty face, but Harry would not allow it.

"Not at all," he said firmly. "It fits. It fits you and it fits us. And somehow I've always suspected that." And it was true. He had always known that Daphne had saved him and that the basilisk's life power had been the key. Hell, the dead, shriveled, almost charred body of the giant snake had been more than obvious. But above all, he knew one undeniable truth. He spoke it. "I would have done the same if our situation had been reversed."

Daphne blinked at him, then said, as if out of nowhere, "Can I do it now?"

"What do you mean?"

"Can I drink your blood now?"

He stared at her, but her face was completely serious, except for a slight pink glow in her cheeks. To anyone other than the two of them, this would probably have been an extremely awkward situation, but Harry just thought she looked indescribably cute at the moment.

And so he smiled at her, hoping that she could sense his feelings through their bond. "Of course. That's only fair, isn't it?"

Daphne didn't answer, but continued to look at him intently. Her body began to shake slightly.

Harry took a deep breath before placing his front teeth on his lower lip. Then he bit down. His teeth cut deeply and it hurt for a moment, but he had seen worse. He could feel the blood running from his lip.

Daphne licked her lips as she looked at him like he was a piece of treacle tart. "Can I?"

"Go ahead," Harry said with an amused smile.

With that, she closed the gap between them and pressed her lips to his. Harry knew it wasn't really a romantic kiss, but he kissed her back anyway. Then he felt a tug at his lips as Daphne sucked greedily at his blood. He couldn't help but feel another pleasurable shiver run down his spine at the thought of her tasting and swallowing his blood right now. And he felt an overwhelming sense of happiness emanating from Daphne as well, so he was not alone in his feelings.

But suddenly Daphne pulled her head back. Harry looked at her in confusion and was about to ask if something was wrong when she bit her lip a second time. Dark red blood came out again.

Harry realised immediately what his girlfriend was doing. At the same moment, they leaned towards each other again and locked lips in another bloody kiss, connecting not only their mouths but also their innermost selves. At least that's what Harry felt when he tasted that familiar, wonderful taste on his tongue again. It intoxicated him and wave after wave of heat coursed through his body as their lips caressed each other and they pressed against each other as if they couldn't survive on their own. His hands slid through Daphne's soft, silky hair and her gloved hands caressed the back of his neck, leaving goose bumps in their wake.

Several minutes passed before they pulled away the next time. Their faces were flushed, as if they had drunk too much butterbeer. Their lips were smeared with blood. But there was also an exuberant smile on both of their faces, and their eyes shone in each other's colours, green and gold in a magical glow. It was a good thing they were the only human souls for miles around, as their appearance would have been quite difficult to explain.

"You're very tasty," Daphne said.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Well, that's a compliment I don't get very often."

"And that's a good thing, mister. Because if the other girls knew you weren't just cute and good with a wand, but tasted delicious too, I'd have even more competition to fend off."

"You don't have any competition, Daph."

Daphne just smiled at him before vanishing the remnants of blood from their lips with a wave of her hand. Then she linked arms with him again and they continued their walk that he had interrupted earlier with his question. Harry decided that it was probably the best question he'd ever asked, after the one about whether Daphne and he wanted to be friends.

He didn't even want to imagine what might have become of them if he hadn't sneaked into the Restricted Section under his Invisibility Cloak back then. That had been exactly two years ago to the day. So many wonderful things had happened in those two years, and so much he had learned from the girl next to him since then.

As if Daphne could read his mind, she smiled softly at him. "I don't know about you, but I'm feeling warm," she said, "how about cooling off?"

"What do you have in mind?" he asked.

Daphne let her eyes wander over the surroundings. By now they had reached the meadow in front of the Forbidden Forest and everything around them was covered in masses of snow, glistening white as far as the eye could see.

"I haven't had a snowball fight in years – not counting our winter duel at the beginning of the school year. Not since Astoria and I were much younger. Before we grew apart."

"Are you challenging me, Greengrass?"

Daphne grinned at him. "That everything has to be a competition with you. But I like it, mainly because I always win."

"We'll see about that," Harry said as seriously as he could, but he feared he was doing a rather poor job, for not for a second did the amused smile disappear from Daphne's pretty face. "But no magic this time to give it the right flavour. We'll fight this battle like Muggles."

"Deal," Daphne said, stepping a few metres away from him.

They looked at each other like two cowboys in an old Western that Dudley had once watched on television while Harry had been cleaning the windows; at least until Uncle Vernon had come in and changed the channel because, as he had said, he would not tolerate such rubbish and outlaw propaganda in his house. But what did Harry care about his uncle's opinion now? He could go to hell.

Daphne moved first, but Harry was quicker. As she bent, he was already on his knees, forming a snowball in his hands. He hurled it at Daphne, hitting her in the shoulder.

"One-nil to me," he shouted at her.

Daphne clicked her tongue and threw her snowball at him. But it was badly aimed and landed on the ground more than a metre in front of him. Harry countered immediately. He made another snowball and threw it at Daphne. She jumped aside, but right into the path of his next snowball. It hit her in the thigh.

"Two-nil to me."

Their battle continued as they threw more and more snowballs at each other, but Harry wasn't finding it hard to dodge Daphne's poorly aimed throws. It was rather funny to see his girlfriend, who was usually so accurate with a wand, fail so badly when magic was not allowed. Especially since his snowballs almost always hit their mark. He would have made a good Chaser too, he thought with inner satisfaction.

When Harry hit her with a snowball for the tenth time, this time directly on her chest, Daphne let out a curse. She shook her head and turned to face him. Icy determination was on her face, accompanied by a smile that promised revenge. In the next moment, she had her black wand in her hand. She pointed it at him.

"Hey, we said no magic," Harry said.

"I'm a witch," Daphne said, sending dozens of snowballs flying in front of her. "Magic is as much a part of me as the air I breathe."

"You're a cheater."

"I'm a winner."

With that, she hurled the snowballs at him. Harry didn't even try to dodge, it was useless. One, two, three, a dozen and more snowballs hit him in the chest. He let out a dramatic scream and fell backwards. The soft snow broke his fall, but he did not move.

Harry kept his eyes closed, fighting back the smile that threatened to spread across his face.

His girlfriend's boots crunched in the snow as she came towards him. "Is everything all right?" he heard her voice, perhaps a little worried.

"N-no," Harry said weakly, pretending it hurt him to speak. "I ... I think I need a fair maiden's kiss to heal my wounds."

He could picture Daphne raising an eyebrow. "Must it be a fair maiden, or will a dark sorceress do?"

"Will the kiss then turn me into a frog or something?"

"Let's find out."

Daphne knelt beside him and leaned over him. Her strands of hair brushed across his face. Harry's hand moved slowly through the snow.

"How good it is that I can never get enough of kissing you," Daphne whispered. "Bloody or not. And now I'm going to kiss you back to health, my shining knight."

Harry could almost feel her warm lips moving closer to his. His heart quickened, his body tensed – and then he threw a handful of snow right in her face.

Daphne screamed. Harry laughed. His girlfriend reached for the snow herself to retaliate for his surprise attack, but he grabbed her by the shoulders and threw her backwards. Daphne struggled back, her fingers clawing at his arms, pushing against him with her knees, but Harry would not let go. For a few moments they wrestled like this in the snow, but finally he managed to pin her underneath him. He was now on top of her and they looked each other in the eyes.

Daphne was breathing heavily. Her breath slid across his face as her chest rose and fell slowly.

Harry smiled at her triumphantly. "Are you giving up?"

She snorted. "Yes. Yes, I give up. Happy?"

His smile turned into a broad grin. "Yes, very." With that he rose from her and then held out his hand to help her up.

Daphne took his hand. "So gallant, Sir Harry."

"So devious, Sir Daphne," he replied. "I don't think I'll ever believe another word you say."

"Now don't be a sorehead. It's not sexy."

Harry was about to launch into a glib reply when suddenly a loud barking came towards them. They spun round. A huge, shaggy black dog was running towards them, tail wagging, ears raised, fangs flashing, almost like a human smile.

It wasn't just any dog, Harry realised at once, but the wondrous dog they had first seen on Halloween in a small clearing deep in the Forbidden Forest, and then again a few days later at the edge of the forest. He had been injured then, and they had healed him. In return, the dog had licked them across the face.

Well, this time the dog didn't seem to be hurt. And his aura was vibrating with vitality and something Harry interpreted as joy. So the dog didn't seem to have forgotten who they were. But what was he doing here?

Harry and Daphne exchanged glances. His girlfriend just shrugged and said, "Do what you think is right. You're the animal lover of the two of us."

Harry turned back to the dog. His paws made tracks in the snow as he ran towards them. He gave another loud bark, and Harry had an idea.

Under Daphne's questioning gaze he crouched down and made a snowball. The dog had almost reached them by now.

"Let's see if he can dodge better than you," Harry said and threw the snowball at the dog.

The snowball flew through the air in a high arc, but instead of dodging, the dog jumped up and caught the snowball in his mouth with amazing skill. The snow stuck to his black fur. He barked again, this time challenging, Harry thought.

"He wants to play," Daphne said.

Harry picked up another snowball. He threw it to the dog, who caught it effortlessly. The dog barked, his happy bark almost sounding like he was laughing. His tongue was hanging out of his mouth and his dark eyes were bright with joy.

"He really seems to be enjoying himself," Harry said as he made another snowball to throw at the dog.

Daphne did the same and soon they were engaged in a merry snowball fight with the dog. The dog ran back and forth, leaving paw prints all over the snow, catching the snowballs with great gusto and sometimes even throwing them back by playfully dropping them from his mouth. After a short time, his fur was completely covered in snow. And his joy was infectious.

Harry and Daphne laughed as they threw snowball after snowball, their laughter mingling with the barking of their new four-legged friend.

And unlike Daphne, the dog played by the rules and didn't use magic even once.

It was many hours later that Harry and Daphne found themselves in the Room of Requirement in the evening, snuggled up together, wrapped in blankets, with a crackling fire in front of them. They held mugs of hot chocolate, the delicious smell of which filled the room.

Harry let out a contented sigh. This had to be one of the purest forms of happiness, he thought, spending such a wonderful day with the girl of his dreams, laughing and having fun and ending the day cuddled up together.

Daphne moved in his arms. He glanced at her and noticed that she had reached for the box from Honeydukes that had been part of his Christmas present to her. A smile formed on his lips.

"What are you doing?" he asked gently.

"I want to try something," Daphne replied. "I wonder if this will taste..."

With that, she took a long piece of liquorice from the box and placed it in her hot chocolate, where it slowly melted. The scent of the liquorice mixed with that of the chocolate and the fire, a strange mixture, Harry thought.

Daphne raised the mug to her lips and took a sip. Her face lit up with satisfaction, as if to congratulate herself on her brilliant idea. For a moment, Harry was transported back to their first Halloween together, imagining a pair of cat ears wiggling on her silky black hair. He could only hope she didn't pick up on that thought, but he seemed to be in luck.

"This is really good," Daphne said. "Try it."

She held the cup out to him. Harry put his own cup on the floor beside him and took hers from her hand. The smell of melted liquorice became more intense as the steam from the cup rose to his nose. Sceptical, he raised the mug to his mouth and took a sip. His lips curled.

"I'd rather leave that to you," he said, handing the cup back to Daphne. "Not quite my taste, I'm afraid."

"You're missing out." Daphne took another deep sip. Then she leaned her head against his shoulder, snuggling even closer.

Harry smiled down at her. His fingers brushed a black strand from her face and Daphne sighed contentedly. Their eyes met, and at the same time they closed the gap between them. Daphne's lips tasted of chocolate and liquorice, and suddenly he didn't mind the taste anymore.

It wasn't a bloody kiss this time, it wasn't even a particularly strong kiss, but Harry still felt happier than he'd ever felt in his life.

Yes, this really must be one of the purest forms of happiness, he thought, wishing he could capture this moment in time so that they could come back here again and again. But alas, that was not possible. The world continued to turn inexorably, and time with it. All that remained was to hope that the future would be as beautiful as this moment of happiness with Daphne in his arms.

That was what he wished for with all his heart.