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This one is about Rowena Ravenclaw and Godric Gryffindor, and is significantly happier than the last.
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Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, and only the story line and any OC's belong to me.
Reckless. Foolhardy. There are a myriad of words that she can bring to the surface to describe the simpering fool begging her to help him charm his ruddy sword.
A sword.
She doesn't have time for such foolishness, and she coldly tells him as much before slamming the door to her Tower in his face.
She pads away, her bare feet gliding across the cool stone. She hears the door click open behind her and she sighs heavily through her nostrils. She'll have to devise a method to keep him from entering her inner sanctum.
"Rowena, please," he calls from behind her, and she doesn't dare look at him.
Her resolve always breaks when she looks into his too blue eyes, and when he plays with his unruly honey brown curls.
"Sod off, Godric. I have things to do, that are of much higher import than a rubbish sword," Rowena scowls, slipping into a thicker scottish brogue that she would have liked.
She can't hide anything from him, and she hates it. Detests it.
She stops short by one of the large windows looking out at the Black Lake-its depths hidden from her view, and she has an errant thought that perhaps she should figure out a way to explore it. She's been curious about its contents for a while now; everything always seemed to get in the way of any proper exploration.
To be fair, she had been preoccupied with the Forest, and-
"Ro," His hot breath washes across the side of her face, and one of his hands tugs on one of the dark curls that is gathered in the small of her back.
She closes her eyes, trying to get ahold of the way her heart races, or how all of the air had been stolen away with one bloody syllable. She places a hand across her abdomen, the fine dark blue fabric underneath her fingertips-as dark as the night sky-felt cool to the touch, which helps her regain some control.
"Fine, I'll figure something out you mongrel, now go away," Rowena says, her tone dropping the temperature in the room by several degrees.
Godric of course, is completely oblivious to her frostiness, and as always, to her plight. He laughs brightly before pulling her into his side, planting a warm kiss to her cheek.
Her eyes open wide, and she barely has time to react before his warmth is fleeing her, and he's practically skipping jovially out of the room; having the audacity to whistle merrily as he goes.
She waits till the door sounds shut before she lets her legs give out, sliding onto the floor. The cold, comforting floor that grounds her, and seems to bring clarity to her foggy mind.
A shaky hand moves to her cheek, and she's staring out at the expansive sky. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, she allows a tiny smile to grace her features.
He may be a reckless idiot, but she loves him regardless.
