Disclaimer: I've been trying for years to trade JKR my most worldly possessions (16 cents, a bottle cap, and a fur ball from under my bed) but she still wont give me the rights to Harry Potter!
A/N: Here's another one shot I wrote, I've been getting into the whole angst thing lately, hopefully I'm doing a semi okay job at it. Enjoy.
A Shiver
The win bites at his exposed face, ruffling his hair, and he shivers as a memory floats over him.
He's walking up the tower to the Owlry, the openness of the place has allowed the winter snow in, settling in light layers on every surface.
He makes it up the stairs without slipping and he moves in toward the walls of owls all staring wind-eyed from their perches. He spots Pig and motions him down from the top where the little thing is flying rapidly around the heads of two tawny owls.
'I wasn't expecting anyone to be up yet,' says a soft voice behind him.
He stops, startled, because he wasn't expecting anyone to be up either. He turns his head as Pig hoots happily at his presence.
It's her, of course. It's always her. He shrugs and hands his letter to the excited owl, who shoots up and nearly hits another bird on his way out.
He walks over to her, she's standing by one of the glassless windows, her arms are resting on the open ledge in front of her.
He goes to her side and leans on the ledge as she is, watching the owls in the distance. At first neither of them say anything, neither of them take their eyes off of the horizon where the clear blue sky seems to stretch on forever.
Finally she breaks the silence, 'what are you doing up?'
It takes him a moment to hear her but does, he always does. 'I couldn't sleep, I sent a letter to Charlie,' his voice is hoarse and his eyes are glued to the horizon.
The still haven't looked away from the sky. 'Me too,' and then as if to clarify, 'I couldn't sleep.'
Again silence falls, enveloping them both in quiet stillness. A grey owl comes floating in just past their heads, cooing softly over to its nest.
In the distance there are some owls still out flying and hunting and they stand watching as if mesmerized by their movements against the clear blue.
Quietly, out of no where she speaks again, 'barn owls mate for life.'
The statement, though just a fragment of nothing, sounds as though it is apart of a conversation they are having.
He turns to face her, a look of torn knowledge on his features. She's still looking out the window, transfixed by the owls. He twists back to the position he had just been in; arms in front of him on the ledge, staring into the blue.
A cold wind floats over them and bites at their exposed faces. He shivers and turns back to her once more, and for the last time.
'Hermione, I-' but she would never get to know what he had wanted to say because at that moment the clear blue sky turns an emerald green, casting an eerie glow over the grounds as a snake slithers through the air amid a skull.
He pulls at his cloak, banishing the memory from his mind. He steps back from the ledge and turns to leave.
With on foot on the first step he turns back to face the window again. 'Hermione, I love you,' he says quietly to the empty Owlry before turning to leave for the last time.