In Love?
By Juliet Norrington
Harry watched Hagrid getting redder and redder in the face as he called for more wine, finally kissing Professor McGonagall on the cheek, who, to Harry's amazement giggled and blushed, her top hat lopsided.
p203-204, "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone", American paperback edition
Set sometime in the 1940's.
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I smile to myself, lost in the place between sleep and wakefulness, and remember him. I remember the way he smiled at me as though I were the only person in the world he wanted to see. I remember the way he told me to walk in front of him to make him happy. I remember the way that he touched me when we were finally somewhat hidden from the prying eyes from the rest of the world. Over and over again I play those two hours and nineteen minutes over in my mind. And with a smile, I remember when he said that he guessed he wouldn't be getting any sleep that night. Neither did I- at least not that much, and even when I was asleep he was there.
I dreamed about him again last night.
It was an erotic dream of night, two bodies intertwined, and a heated rhythm that controlled all our movements. I can still the feel of his hands on my bare skin, hear the sound he made as I kissed his ear, feel his lips on mine. I can still hear the soft sound of his voice as he whispered in my ear, see the way he smiled at me, melt at the memory of when he told me I was more than he deserved. It is a ghost of a memory compared to the real ones I also possess, but my wanting it to be a memory makes it that much stronger.
I didn't want a relationship. I didn't want to have to deal with everything that goes with it… and yet it happened anyway, before I even realized it did. Now, I wonder why I could have ever not wanted to be right here, right now. I am in a place where when he smiles at me, every problem I have instantly vanishes. A place where he is always in my thoughts, always in the back of my mind. A place where my body craves his touch, every moment of every day. A place where in the back of my mind I admit that if he wanted to throw me down and take me now, I would not stop him.
Is that love?
If not, what is?
--------------------o.O;;
Hmm. This started out as some of my musings based on going to Prisoner of Azkaban last Friday, but it ended up as a shortie about Minerva and Hagrid going to see a Bogart flick sometime in the 40's. Go figure. I wasn't sure if I was going to post it or not, it's a little, well, personal. Then I noticed there weren't any Hagrid/McGonagall fics, so...