The way he looks at me

It started like this: Voldemort’s body hit the ground and Harry breathed his first sigh of relief since he was eleven. He squeezed his eyes shut and when he opened them, through his shimmering tears, he saw Neville before he saw anyone else. Neville, standing tall and brave and triumphant with the Sword of Gryffindor in his hand. Harry’s breath caught and suddenly he wanted nothing more than to be in those big arms, to bury his face in Neville’s broad chest.