If he were prone to being an arse, he'd have apparated from her room in that instant just to keep himself from feeling the pain and need and loss that washed off her in waves. As it were, he couldn't simply stand there and look at her, not when the desperation in her eyes consumed her face.

"It's not, Char," he breathed, pulled her into his embrace and sinking onto the edge of her bed, his arms all but crushing her against him. "It's not. I swear on Merlin's beard, it's not. I worry for you. You're strong. So much stronger than you think you are. It kills me to see you here; to see you shutting yourself away."

He pressed absent kisses to her temple, his fingers brushing through distrubed hair. "But, I don't know what to do. What to say. Char, what happened, it was horrible. To lose everything you worked so hard for - Char...I can't pretend to know that loss. But, they didn't take your life. You're doing that on your own."