"Well, I couldn't leave her alone," he said simply as if it were a solid, irrefutable fact. To him, it was. She'd been down and helpless, and what kind of man could walk away from that?
His brows arched up as Harry said he had to ... carry Lily. Sure, he could do that. He cast a nervous gaze down toward where the dementors had vanished off to before he moved closer to Lily. He studied her for a moment, trying to find a good angle to get her from before he settled for catching her around the middle and lifting her up.
Lily didn't fight the motion, but she didn't really help it, either. "Daddy," she whimpered, for all the world four years old again, freshly woken from some horrific nightmare. She was aware of Dave's arms around her, and she swatted at them a little; she wanted her father, not this near-stranger with his monkey jokes.
"Hey," Dave protested as he kept an arm around her. She didn't exactly seem very stable. On her feet, sure, and she could probably walk inside, but ... not without help. "We'll just walk," he said to her. "Your dad will be right behind us."
He felt vaguely patronizing; she was his age, give or take, and he was talking to her like she was six, but ... she had a look in her eyes that didn't seem so very far off from six.
"Should ... I mean, she can't come back out here ... and I can't do the monkey thing all by myself," Dave said. He didn't necessarily want Harry to stay out with him (though he wouldn't protest if the offer was on the table). "Is there someone ... who can ... take her place?"