They had been sitting in tense silence all evening, waiting but not knowing when exactly to expect anyone until a portal had formed in the space between the couches, and poor Lucio was deposited onto the living room floor, crying hysterically and still holding the bag his mother had given him, prompting Pansy to run to him and sweep him into her arms. He had barely seen her through his puffy-from-crying eyes and reached for her, too upset to be happy to see her.