Mrs. Weasley set the potion down on the bedside cabinet, bent down, and put her arms around Harry. He had no memory of ever being hugged like this, as though by a mother. The full weight of everything he had seen that night seemed to fall upon him as Mrs. Weasley held him to her. His mother’s face, his father’s voice, the sight of Cedric, dead on the ground, all started spinning in a head until he could hardly bear it, until he was screwing up his face against the howl of misery fighting to get out of him.
J.K. Rowling, in ‘Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire’.