Hannah spoke, unknowingly echoing his thought. "What if I'm never ready for you to let go, never ready to let go myself?" she whispered, miserably clinging closer. She was quiet for some time, finally trying to sort everything out rather than just try to breath through it. Finally she looked up at him.
"Ernie, what are we going to do?" she asked, voice quiet and expression pensive. "They're never going to leave Dad alone, not now. And if they can't get to Dad, they go after one of us. They might just go after one of us anyhow now." Her unhappy look turned into even more of a frown as she considered. "What if Rodolphus Lestrange's journal entry wasn't just to distract Dad, what if it was a last warning?"
Not able to even protest the action, not that she would have if she had been able, Hestia let go and leaned entirely on Dominic but literally and emotionally. Her strength didn't extend to foolish stubbornness, an inability to rely on others, as she had been trained to rely on people and that training would not have stuck had she been completely inflexible about it. No, when she needed to lean on another, such as right now, she could and so she did.
She cried for some time, for all fears great and small, for every fear she had been visited with in her brief periods of sleep during the last three days, cried until there were no more tears and just a bit longer, until those dry sobs slowed to shuddering and she could once more lift her head. In being there, holding her and loving her, Dominic had been the strength she needed to let go and then to pull herself back together.
"You're soaked, you should get out of that," she murmured, looking down at his shirt with a tired sort of amusement.