Disclaimer: I don't own HP

A/N: Just something I wrote before bed.


She's twirling under the midnight sky and the stars burn brightly with their secrets.

If he's dreaming he hopes he never wakes up. If he wasn't so stunned he would be laughing in shock.

Pieces of wet grass stick to her toes and shins and her hair is a mess of half pulled out pins and loosening curls and her smile is like the sun peaking from behind clouds.

He would join her if he wasn't so completely and utterly content to just watch her.

He's amazed that she can be so graceful swaying to the sounds of crickets and wind.

He's also in love.

Painfully, hopelessly, completely in love.

She stops, mid twirl, to look at him.

The moon is like a little light just for them and it reveals more in that moment in time than all of the daylight in the world.

She's in love too.

"Aren't you going to join me?" She asks, almost shyly. How this girl could ever be shy is a mystery to him. He wants to wrap her in his arms and find the imaginary beat that's so easy for her to dance to. He starts to walk towards her, feels his heart start to ricochet in his chest, his stomach tightening.

"My sister and I would watch our parents dance for hours in the yard, until the sky looked like this and they would yell at us to go to bed." She tells him. He stops an arms length away from her and it's too far. She takes a step to close the distance.

"I thought they were crazy, to be dancing like this." She's whispering now, almost afraid. If she gave him her heart would she die? She laughs at her own dramatics.

"What's so funny?" He can't fight his smile- not when her laugh sounds like that.

"I'm giving you my heart." She says, honestly. Really, what else could she say? It's true. Her heart is his and she's still breathing.

She hears his sharp inhale through his nose and starts to open her mouth to explain that maybe she was just playing but she can't get any words out- she's suddenly in his arms and his lips are pressing kisses to her cheeks, slowly, methodically.

If she scared him by saying that would he be nipping at the corner of her mouth?

She's lightheaded and intoxicated by it, embolden by it.

"It's yours."

There's no taking that back, no trying to make light of it anymore. Here she is.

His hold on her tightens and he think that maybe he'll break apart if he lets her go.

"I will honor it always," and he's not worried about sounding melodramatic or about making ridiculous and untrue professions of love like he would mock other people for, he's just being honest, "you've had mine from the moment I saw you."

He can sense her disbelief so he pulls back to look at her, to make let her see him.

When she looks into his eyes she sees it.

"I don't know how I knew, but I promise you I did. You were it for me from the first moment."

She's laughing again and he's smiling and he swears that nothing in his life has ever felt more real, more right.

"Well, Ms. Evans, will you join me for this dance?" And then he's spinning her around and trying not memorize every detail because he's not sure life could be better than this moment and he wants to be able to tell the story to their grandchildren perfectly one day.

They stay like that for hours.