December
Ann sat at the infirmary window, staring out at the snow. She was healing well, physically. She had terrible nightmares almost every day, and had again stopped eating. The nurses were terribly concerned and appealed to the Headmaster to intervene. Dumbledore went to Harry.
"Mr. Potter. A word, if I may?"
Harry jerked awake from his schoolbooks. He had fallen asleep in the library again. Dumbledore grasped his shoulder and led him to his office.
"Do sit, Mr. Potter." Harry collapsed into an armchair and gazed levelly at Dumbledore. His green eyes, usually so cheerful and clear, were clouded with pain and fatigue. His lean face was drawn into a permanent look of anguish, and he had lost quite a bit of weight since the incident with Malfoy.
"Mr. Potter, I and others are quite concerned about you and Ann. You should both be healing; instead, you seem to be tearing yourselves apart. Why is that, do you think?"
"Professor, I don't know what to do. I failed her once, when she needed me so much. I wasn't there to protect her from Titus- what if I can't protect her from the rest of the Malfoys?"
Dumbledore stared at him for long moments. "Harry, you need to go see her. She's failing without you. She can't find any reason to recover as long as she thinks you despise her. If you can't convince yourself to go because you want to, go for her. She may very well kill herself otherwise."
Harry paled. "I didn't know she was that ill, sir."
"She is, Harry. She's just as sick as when she came, only now she's alone. No one has visited her, whether out of guilt or respect, I do not know. But she sits by the window and stares for hours."
"Excuse me, sir. I need to go."
"Indeed, Harry. Quickly now. Don't tarry along the way."
&&&&&&&&&&&
Harry hesitated outside the infirmary door. He had dashed to the dormitory in a moment of inspiration and put on his Quidditch robes, still sweaty from the afternoon practice. In ful gear, aware that every student he passed stopped to stare and whisper, he strode down the hall to the infirmary.
He peered in through the window. His breath caught when he saw Ann in the chair by the window. She looked so frail, so thin and pale. Her thick auburn hair hung limp and dull against the back of the chair, and she plucked absently at the arm. The tremble had returned, visible even from across the room. He took another deep breath and pushed the door open.
"Ann?" She startled badly and cried out at his voice. His heart broke to see her hand raise defensively to ward off a possible blow. Tears gathered in his eyes, and he blinked them away roughly.
"Harry?" Her voice was a mere whisper, hoarse from hours of silence.
"Ann. Oh God, Ann. Dumbledore told me you were ill, but I didn't know..."
"Please. Please, don't touch me, Harry. I can't touch you. It hurts too much."
"Ann. I'm so sorry I wasn't there in time. Afterwards, I didn't know what to do. I was so ashamed and angry at myself for letting you down. I couldn't face you, knowing that I could have killed him and didn't." His voice broke then, and he fell to his knees in front of her chair. He wept, the same harsh, choking sobs she had wept earlier in the year. "I hate myself, Ann. I can't forgive myself for what happened to you."
Minutes passed. Ann stared down at the dark head pressed against her knee. She could feel his tears soaking through her robes, see his shoulders shaking with sobs.
He felt her hand touch his head, gently stroking his hair. He buried his head in her lap, wrapping his arms around her waist. She cradled his upper body against hers, letting her own tears fall into his hair. She could smell the pleasant odor of leather and clean sweat in his robes, a smell that brought her own darkest night back in force.
"Harry. Harry, shush."
He stood then, lifting her into his arms and sliding one arm under her knees. He gingerly lowered himself into her chair, holding her like before. She nestled against him, breathing in his warm scent. She laid her hand against the soft flutter of his pulse and fell asleep.
&&&&&&&&
Christmas
"Careful Harry! Don't drop her!!" Ron reached for Ann, but Harry brushed him aside.
"Thanks Ron. I've got her. Could you clear out that chair by the fire, please? I do need to sit down soon." He grinned at the girl in his arms.
"I have a mind, Harry Potter, to refuse to sit with you for that unkind comment. Am I too heavy for you now? Or haven't you been playing Quidditch lately?" Ann tried, and failed, to be stern.
"You're not too heavy. I'd like to see you put o a few more pounds, actually." He turned to Hermione. "Speaking of putting on a few pounds, where's Mrs. Weasely's yearly package? I bet there's a few tasty things in there." Hermione grinned at him and turned to rummage under the tree.
Harry lowered himself into the large armchair. "We seem to spend an awful lot of time in this position, don't we?" he whispered into her ear.
"You tell me when you're interested in finding another, Harry, and we'll get to work. Until then, shut up and enjoy it."
&&&&&&&&&
Christmas night
Ron and Hermione had slipped off to bed hours before. With few other students around and no prefects to complain, Harry supposed they would be in a single bed until the holidays ended. He smiled affectionately at the thought, the glanced down at Ann, still cuddled in his lap.
"You should probably go to bed, Ann. You look tired."
"I'm not the least bit tired. Are you trying to get rid of me?" She eyed him, playfully suspicious.
"I don't want you to overexert yourself and make yourself sick." He hugged her to his chest and buried his face in her hair, inhaling the sweet, clean scent of it.
"Harry?"
"Yes?"
"I missed you, this last month. I though you didn't want to have anything to do with me, because of what happened." Her green eyed sparkled with tears.
"I know, Ann. I'm still sorry I was so stupid and stayed away. I should have come anyway. Are you still cold?" He wrapped his robes around them both, enjoying the feel of her arms against his sweater. He jumped as an icy cold hand crept under his sweater, against his bare skin.
"Good grief, Ann! God, your fingers are freezing!" He shivered, feeling the skin on his stomach tighten.
"I can move them, if you want." She breathed the words into his ear. She smiled when she heard his breath catch in his throat.
"No. No, you're okay like that." He shifted slightly in the chair, trying to hide the evidence of how okay it really was. His attempt was made even more futile by the soft pressure of her lips against his neck. He shuddered, and turned his head to look at her more closely.
"Ann? What-?" She interrupted him by pressing her lips to his. He was hesitant, worried that she thought he expected this, that she was only giving what she thought he might try to take from her later. He broke away from her.
"Ann, are you sure this is okay for you? You don't...we don't have to do this. You know that, right? I won't force you." Her lips were still so close, it was agony to pull away from them to wait for her answer.
"I got tired of waiting for you, Harry. Don't worry. It's very okay for me." His lips came down on hers with breathtaking force, his tongue seeking hers in near-desperation. Her hand slid further beneath his sweater, lightly stroking his abdomen, tracing muscle and the faint outlines of his ribs, dipping gently into his navel, slipping just under the waistband of his pajamas before reaching up and twining in his thick hair. He broke away again, despite her murmur of frustration, and lifted her into his arms.
"We're not doing this here. Not where anyone could wander in and get an eyeful. Time for bed."