This would be easier if he would lie still, curse him. Growling in frustration, she digs her paws into the mud and pulls harder.

At long, long last she has him at the edge of the tree, and she stops there, panting. Is the battle ending or simply moving away? She can't tell.

She bends her head and licks Harry's cheek. It's all the comfort she can think to give him right now.