Whack-a-Mole

The corridor was empty. The portraits on the walls watched the two of them nestled together, some shyly, others with fond approval. Time seemed to stand still.

A gentle scent reached Eli's nose, and the whole world seemed to fall quiet.

The girl in his arms seemed frightened out of her wits. She kept sobbing, her slender hands gripping him so hard it hurt. Eli gritted his teeth and held back a yelp.

There was no hysterical outpouring, no rash declaration of undying love. It all felt natural. Once they had found their way to each other, everything had fallen into place.

Eli felt the girl breathing against him and wished they could stay like this forever.

"You..." Eli felt that the fabric at his shoulder was soaked, but the young witch was still crying. He raised a hand and gently patted her back, wanting to comfort her, yet he couldn't find the right words.

Hermione only wanted to cry her heart out. She had held too much in for too long. She hadn't been able to set her worries aside and talk to him, or laugh and joke with him as she used to. All her regrets and hurt had been bottled up inside.

Then there was the frightening thing Eli had just done. She had never seen him like that. It had felt as though she had truly come face-to-face with a dark wizard who thought nothing of human life.

Yet it was that very act, half-mad as it was, that finally broke down everything they had been unable to say to each other.

Right now, she wanted to cry in front of him without holding anything back. Because from this day on, she knew she always could.

When the two of them emerged like that, jaws dropped.