Mandy sighed against his chest, her eyes filling with tears as he prompted her to explain. It hurt to think about it, but he'd trusted her, so she would trust him to love her, to hold her, to understand.
She pulled in a deep breath, let it out slowly, hoping it would help to settle her nerves a little bit. It didn't exactly work. "It was the 1994 Quidditch World Cup," she began, wondering if he would remember that on their first or second date they'd talked about it, but she hadn't wanted to, so they'd never really talked about that QWC again.
"Just dad and I, having a little vacation before I had to go back to school. We rooted for the Irish. It was a great game. But then, the game isn't what that Quidditch World Cup is remembered for... The Death Eater's revelries after the game are."
As she was talking, it was as though she were back there, to that very night when her whole world had fallen apart because she hadn't listened to her father, because she'd tried to help when she should have just gone to safety like he'd told her to.
"My father had woke me up and told me there was an attack and that I needed to get away from the campsite as soon as possible. He said he needed to try to help stop them. I started to leave, but when it sank in that he was staying, I couldn't go."
She was crying freely now, her tears soaking his bare chest. It hurt so much to be reliving this pain, this horrible black hole from her past; to remember the way it seemed his body froze, and then fell to the ground in a graceful arch. The pain would have been unbearable, but for the strong arms holding her against the warm body of the second man she'd ever loved.