Clair de Lune: A Love Story

Clair de Lune: A Love Story

Chapter Two

I never would have pictured you as spontaneous.

Mind you, you normally weren't.

Normally, you'd run things over and over in your mind, thinking things through until your eyes began to feel heavy and you'd realise you hadn't eaten all day.

But every now and then, you'd show up on my doorstep, with that look in your eye that made me want to throw my arms around you and kiss you forever and a day… and then run in the other direction as fast as I could.

I think it must have been at least ten o'clock when you knocked on my door. I was ready for bed, (you always said I went to bed too early) my hair was in a ponytail – my curls flying every which way – and you took one look at me and laughed. I blushed – as usual – and asked you what you wanted.

You told me to dress up.

So I did.

O

"Where are we really going though?" I asked for the hundredth time.

We were on a train somewhere, and the light was on, making it completely impossible to see out the window.

"You'll see."

There was silence for a few minutes as I contemplated how I would get the answer out of you. There was always sex, but that was a coward's exit.

I crossed my arms and sat back in my seat. "Fine."

You had that 'holier-than-thou' air about you that I hate, but there was amusement in your eyes. "Fine what?" Your voice was mocking me too.

"Fine… I don't want to know."

"Oh. Okay."

"I mean, it's not like where you're taking me is going to be anywhere nice. Last time you took me out, I thought we were going to a nice restaurant, and we ended up at Ron's flat with a takeaway pizza. My hopes aren't high."

You regarded me for some time. "Okay."

I glared at you. "Fine."

"Fine what?"

"As long as you think that kind of treatment is tolerable-"

"'Treatment'? What are you talking about? I'm not taking you to the zoo, Granger, so stop making it sound like I ordered you onto this train held at gunpoint!"

I was silent for a while as you calmed down a little, taking deep breaths. "Well the zoo would be your idea of fun wouldn't, Peter Pan?"

Your usually smooth brow was creased in confusion. "I'm assuming that this 'Peter Pan' you speak of is a Muggle invention, so I will not dignify that sentence with an answer."

"Only because you don't understand it."

Your jaw clenched. "That wasn't what I said."

I giggled. "Doesn't make it any less true."

You were very tense, and your back was ramrod straight. "I chose not to answer it purely because it seemed to me like an insult. Correct me if I'm wrong."

There was silence.

"Exactly. It was a poor attempt, Granger, I expected better of you."

I scowled. "So where are we going?"

You relaxed into a grin that made my chest tighten.

"You'll see."

O

You took me to Lyon.

I'd never been to France, even though it had been my plan to go years and years before, I'd never made it.

You always said Paris was nice, but overrated. So you took me to Lyon.

And it was beautiful.

O

"We're here."

"I can see that." I replied, somewhat icily.

You offered me your arm. "Shall we?"

The station opened straight out onto the city, and the houses were so close I could see straight into windows. A couple in the house immediately opposite the station were curled up on the sofa with a toddler between them, and they were all asleep.

A siren was piercing the night air, and there was so much light.

Everywhere I turned, I could see it, pouring out of windows, or shop fronts, or streetlamps, and even the stars seemed to shine brighter than they did in London.

I could feel your eyes on me, and the corner of your mouth was twitching.

"What's so funny?" I asked, nudging you.

"You are."

I sighed. "Do you have a particular destination in mind, or shall we wander the streets and alleyways all night long?"

"Both. We're having dinner first, and then we can satisfy the romantic in you and walk along the moonlit river."

"I'm not a romantic!"

"You're more romantic than I am."

"A frog would be more romantic than you, it's not hard."

"What's the point in being so involved in a feeling that might not even be real? You can 'love' anything, it's just a word that describes an emotion."

I sighed. It hurt me when you said things like that, but I knew that you did love me, in the way that only you can. "Where are we going to dinner then?"

O

Paul Bocuse. You took me to Paul Bocuse's restaurant. It wasn't even a special occasion, and you took me to eat at one of the most expensive eateries in Lyon! (I didn't actually know it was that expensive until Ginny told me afterwards, but still.)

I'd never seen you like I did that night. I'm not really sure I ever did again, either.

You were completely alive, like your heart was beating twice as fast as it normally did. I could see the fire behind your eyes, and you spoke with a passion that astonished me.

You weren't especially excited, but everything about you screamed 'life,' like it never had.

I'm not saying you weren't alive when I usually saw you, because that would be ridiculous, but this was different.

You were alive.

There's really no other way to explain it.

Hermione