He felt pressure on his booted foot and tore his eyes away from the unidentifiable Death Eaters, looked down. It was Hermione’s foot on his, her boot pressing rhythmically down on his boot – the best way that she could discreetly show any support in front of the others. He felt a choked sob bubble in his throat and swallowed, smiled at her, a hollow, flimsy expression. But her touch was a reminder that he wasn’t alone, at least.