Evan took another long, shuddering breath, finally lowering himself to the ground properly. He kept his legs tucked close and buried his head against them, holding onto Harry's hand like a vice. Harry ignored the burning, ignored steam that billowed out from between where their fingers were locked together, ignored the way he recognised the reason his magicks were rebelling so wildly. It was faint; barely there —unnoticeable if Harry wasn't actively looking for it. 