Tom heaved in a heavy breath, chest expanding and shoulders rising, and Harry braced himself for more yelling. But it didn’t come. Tom didn’t move at all, didn’t even exhale for several long moments, until slowly, steadily, he let out a breath through his nose, posture softening and chin lowering until he could look Harry in the eye instead of glaring down at him. Tom grasped Harry’s forearms, so that they were clutching each other in a closed circuit. The energy in the room changed. The anger faded, but it was no less tense, the very air thrumming like a live wire. Harry stood there, so apprehensive he was almost trembling, lost and confused and still really very upset.