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And

And for once he was more than content to just sit there and observe. For this was a side to her he rarely saw. Carefree. Young. Laughing. As she strolled along the banks of the Lake, arm in arm with him, he could barely wrench his eyes away from the sight.

And his wand, forgotten, resting by his thigh, did not move in desperate eagerness to cast some malevolent spell.

'He's there again.'

Red tendrils tickled his cheek as he leaned down to press a kiss to her earlobe.

'So ignore him.'

'I can't'. I can't distract myself.'

'I'm pretty sure' kiss 'that was a' kiss 'veiled insult' kiss 'aimed in my' kiss 'direction.'

Laughter erupts.

'And I'm pretty sure' eyelashes flutter on flushed skin 'that you made a promise' stubble chafes a soft jaw line 'not to insult me anymore.' Lips capture pouted lips.

And he finds it much easier to squash the sharp shock of pain in his heart when her laughter is silenced by his kiss. And though he misses the sound of it, the clear, joyful ring that danced on the air, he can almost appreciate the fact that she's happy.

Almost.

Because while in theory, he wants her to be carefree, young and laughing, seeing this in practice is not as rewarding an experience as he had assumed. He'd never assumed he would make her carefree, young and laughing.

'I like it when you insult me.'

'You've turned yourself into one of Pavlov's dogs.'

'I have no idea what you just said.'

'Basically it was a psychological experiment conducted in the latter half of the nineteenth century. Pavlov was a Russian who wanted to know whether it was possible-'kiss.

'I love it when you talk Muggle to me.'

'Basically, you associate insults with kisses.'

'Mmm-hmm.'

His muffled laughter disturbed the light press of her lips on his.

'What now?'

'I remember when you swore you would never be able to fathom my senseless mind for all the Galleons in Gringotts.'

'Mmm...' kiss 'well it seems' kiss 'I say a lot of things' kiss 'I don't mean'.

And this is the tipping point. Of course he knows that he wants to kiss her. It's a different thing altogether to realise that she wants to kiss him.

This is the moment when his fingers twitch towards his wand.

This is the moment his mind rifles through the countless spells that would jinx him into next week.

This is the moment that sharp shock becomes a more constant throb.

Insistent. Persistent.

Undeniable.

'He's still there.'

'He's always going to be there.'

An impatient huff of breath.

'I don't see why.'

An affectionate laugh.

'You never bloody do.'

And just as his wand creeps into his hand with comforting familiarity, just as his mind grasps the very spell that will make his point more eloquently than his stuttering mouth ever would, just as his face hardens and a sneer pulls his mouth downwards, green eyes meet black.

Her forehead presses into his shoulder and she sighs.

'I just don't understand why he's always watching.'

Short and probably not sweet, but I've been stuck behind the desk for so long and I desperately needed to write and put something out there.

Thank you so much to those who continue to review, follow, and favourite my stories - it really means the world to me. I can only apologise for being so terrible at replying to you. Please know it is massively appreciated, and I still get ridiculously excited whenever an email alert comes through.

Cuckoo x