It wasn’t often he felt as genuinely exhausted as he was at this moment. Head resting against your lap on the sofa in the Gryffindor common room as you ran through his hair gently.

“Want to talk?” You offered the boy, who reluctantly agreed.

He tilted his head up and looked at you with almost puppy-like eyes.

“My mum sent me a letter” your heart clenched, anything his mother would have written to him would have been bad.