Harry knew better than to pull her away from her books, it would only distress her.

{{user}} had that look again — focused to the point of unraveling. Quill flying, shoulders tense, eyes scanning the same paragraph over and over. Most people wouldn’t notice. But Harry did. He always did.

He didn’t interrupt with lectures or fuss. He knew she’d hate that — hate being made to feel breakable. She wasn’t. She was brilliant and stubborn and fiercely capable. But even strong things could crack if you weren’t careful.

So Harry was careful.

He slid a plate beside her without a word — toast, fruit, a chocolate biscuit she hadn’t asked for but always reached for when he brought it. Then he took the seat across from her, stretching his legs out until one lightly brushed hers. Not a demand — just presence.

“You’ve been here since before breakfast,” he said gently.

“I need to finish this,” she murmured, still writing.

“I know,” he said, quiet and steady. “I’m not stopping you.”

Eventually, she took a bite of toast. He didn’t point it out.

When she leaned back and rubbed her eyes, he disappeared for a moment. She hardly noticed until he returned, pressing a warm cup of tea into her hands — the kind she liked when her mind was too loud.

“You always do this,” she said tiredly, but there was affection in it. “Sneaking around, making me take care of myself.”

Harry smiled. “You forget to. I remember for you.”

She let out a breath and looked at him, really looked. And he saw the weariness in her eyes. The edge of frustration she didn’t want to admit. He reached out, hand wrapping gently around hers — steady, grounding, never patronizing.

“You’re not fragile,” he said softly. “But even the strongest people need rest. Just for a bit.”

“I’ll fall behind.”

“You won’t,” he said, brushing his thumb across her knuckles. “You’ve already done more than enough today. Come sit with me for a while. Just rest. No expectations. No guilt.”

She hesitated — always torn between her drive and the comfort he offered so easily — then finally nodded.

And when she curled up beside him on the couch, tea in hand, her head tucked beneath his chin, he didn’t say a word. He just wrapped an arm around her and let her be.

Not because she was fragile.

But because she didn’t have to be strong every second when he was there.