Disclaimer: Nope, once again nothing belongs to me; all characters belong to JK Rowling. And, I've failed to say this before, but I highly doubt the plot is mine too, oh well. The quote at the beginning is from the book "Archangel" by Robert Harris, and is supposedly a quote from Josef Stalin, I don't know if it really is or not, but it fit well for this chapter.
Author's Note: First off, I need to apologize for the long delay in getting this chapter posted. One of my friends came down from the States to visit me so I've been busy with other things for the last few weeks. Anyway, thank you, thank you, thank you for all your positive reviews; they are really heart-warming and inspiring. And I'm trying hard not to make any spelling errors, although I seem to have a problem with the words 'to' and 'too' and how to use them…pathetic isn't it? Ah well, perhaps one day soon I'll learn. Also, in regards to this chapter, I'm going to skip over Harry's birthday, besides; Hermione won't be giving him anything special…yet. Er – and there's plenty of mushy, cheesy romance dialog ahead, just a fair warning to all of you.
Also, I can't remember if they were taught about Dementors in any of the books. I mean, I know Lupin taught Harry how to fend them off and all, but actually learning about them, that I have no idea. And as I don't have the books with me, I'll just pretend that they didn't. If I'm wrong, I apologize in advance.
Oh yes, one other thing. In a review from my first story, someone commented that I should try and pair D/G up if I write a sequel. And, as this is the sequel, I suppose it's something I could do…but, what do you guys think...I'll leave it up to you. Draco and Ginny? Or is that too farfetched?
Alright, now I'm about to do something that I haven't done before in any of my author's notes, and that is to shamelessly promote a couple stories that I've been reading on ff.net. The first is "Harry Potter and the Turmoil Within" by itmonster…absolutely fantastic and I recommend it to everyone. The second is Stoneheart's new fic (heck, any of his stories really) "No Greater Love". And third, both of akscully's works, "Harry Potter and the Pink Elephant" and "An Assault on the Senses". If you haven't read any of these yet, go…you won't be disappointed.
~*~
thefly: Well Huw, I've made progress on your story (hopefully you're reading this), although I fear it's going to take a lot of revisions before I post it. I hope you think it's worth the wait. Until then, keep writing and updating both of your stories, they're brilliant.
Stoneheart: I've come to the conclusion that we share a brain (not that I mind sharing it with someone who is so astute mind you), how else could you read so in depth with every updated chapter? Ah, if I could only share your insight, well, then again, I dunno what I'd do with it...perhaps its better left with you. Thanks for all your kind words, and you too, keep writing and updating…I look forward to reading more of your work. Even though my reviews are paltry in comparison to yours, I hope you know I think your work is fantastic.
Usha88: It's good to hear from you again. Glad you like it so far, thanks for taking the time to read my pathetic excuse for a story, it's much appreciated.
Camillia: Thank you…I'm glad you like it so far!
~*~
***
To choose one's victims, to prepare one's plans minutely, to slake an implacable vengeance, and then go to bed…there is nothing sweeter in the world.
J.V. Stalin
***
It was dark, so dark that the blackness was smothering in its intensity, a heavy blanket of foul smells and depressing thoughts that could paralyze even the toughest man or creature. The soft flutter of wings stirred the putrid air, swirling it around and around like a grotesque blender. The lidless yellow eyes narrowed in a scowl and pierced through the gloom, searching, looking, seeking the place it had called 'home' for centuries. Finally, after a few moments of hovering, a deep growl emitted and the beating wings began their descent into the endless abyss. They carried him over the churning body of water that snaked and twisted its way through the rocky ground, weaving through the jagged stalactites that hung from the top of the cavern like jagged teeth, and into a gaping opening that looked more like a yawning mouth, rather than an entrance to another section of the cave.
A thin trickle of red smoke left the narrow nostrils, scarlet streaked against black, as Zabulus continued to soar through the air, his hands clenched into tight fists. After a few moments, the fluttering wings slowed, gently lowering him until his feet touched the hard ground below. With a snap of scaly fingers, the cavern roared to life with a hundred fires belching up their flames from pits dug deeply in the earth. But instead of the red-orange tones of a usual fire, the blaze was a mixture of green and black, twisting and meshing themselves into great beckoning hands, calling, urging, their skeletal fingers reaching out in a mesmerizing gesture. The inferno raged, sending the fire shooting upwards, scorching the roof of the cave and coating it with a light layer of black ash.
The eerie green glow illuminated jagged stone shelves that ran around the circular room, filled with dust covered glass orbs. A few lay broken into shards on the floor and Zabulus stepped over them with a scowl of disgust. Pausing once, he slowly bent his hulking frame and picked up a long sliver of glass, staring at the fragment refracting the twisted glow of the flames as he cradled it in his wide palm. He contemplated it for a moment, and then with a low growl, he closed his fist, crumbling it into dust as he rose to his feet. Clicking his teeth together in a display of annoyance at the broken spheres, he turned in a circle and surveyed his home. Spreading his arms and wings wide, he began to laugh, a low, insane cackle that echoed and reverberated off the walls, until the entire cave was filled with the eerie sound.
"Home," he growled, the sound of his laughter fading away. "I'm finally home."
~*~
King's Cross seemed unusually busy, Muggles dashing here and there, shouting instructions and directions as they jostled against each other in order to scramble inside the departing trains. If anyone had noticed the lone boy wheeling a huge trunk and a caged owl, no one said anything. Shaking his head slightly, he slowly pushed his trolley through the teaming crowd, keeping his eyes fixed straight ahead of him.
Platform 9 ¾ rose before him in a column of brick between platforms nine and ten, looking solid and impenetrable. The fluttery feeling of excitement of seeing the wizarding world once again rose in his stomach. He paused to look around to make sure no non-magical people were watching, and swiftly pushed his cart forward, disappearing behind the barrier without a trace. Suddenly, the bright scarlet engine of the Hogwarts Express filled his vision, sending up great columns of white smoke high into the air. A grin split his face and he began to wheel his trolley towards the baggage compartment in order to store his trunk and his owl for the long train ride to another year at school.
"Harry!" a call came. "Harry, over here!"
He turned his head slightly and glanced over his left shoulder. Behind the great plumes of grayish steam rising from the chugging engine, he caught a glimpse of the brown and red hair of his best friends. His smile growing wider, he deposited his trunk and Hedwig and began to weave his way through the throng of students in order to reach them.
"Ron," he waved from behind a group of fifth years. "Hermione!"
His shout startled the little group in front of him and they turned around one by one to see what the commotion was about. As was the usual reaction to his presence, their mouths dropped open, their eyes widened, and all chatter stopped. Gulping and knowing he was the center of attention, he managed a small smile at the group of awe-struck girls and nervously bit his lip, his eyes darting about to try and find a way around them.
"Blimey, you're Harry Potter!" a small blonde girl with braids squeaked out with wide brown eyes.
"Erm," he shifted from side to side and ran a hand through his hair, embarrassment pumping through his veins. "Yeah, I am."
"Wow," another girl chimed in, stepping directly in front of him and staring at his scar. "I can't believe I'm talking to you. I mean, I knew you went to Hogwarts and all, I just never thought I'd ever talk to you," she continued to babble, unmindful that Harry was shifting from foot to foot nervously. "Is it true that you're really dating Hermione Granger?" she blurted out, asking the question that every single female ranging from third year on up was dying to know the answer to. It was probably more accurate to assume that most, if not all, the single witches within the wizarding world were wanting to know the answer to that particular question as well, thanks to the article in The Daily Prophet.
"Er - yeah," he could feel the heat rushing to his face. "I am," his eyes still darting from side to side, looking for an escape route. Thankfully at that moment, Hermione sailed over with a smirk on her face.
"There you are," she admonished him as if he were a small child that had gotten lost, splitting the gawking girls apart gracefully. "Come on," she grabbed his hand and tugged, ignoring Harry's fan club. "Ron wants to go find a compartment."
Breathing a sigh of relief, he sheepishly grinned and shrugged his shoulders in a helpless gesture at the fifth year students. "Sorry," he said apologetically. "I've got to go."
Chuckling silently to herself, Hermione steered him away with elegance and pride, leaving behind in her wake, sudden whispers and scathing looks.
"Thanks," Harry muttered under his breath and gave her hand a squeeze as they approached Ron. "It's about time you helped me out."
"Please," she grinned. "You're a big boy, I'm sure you could've handled it all on your own, without my help."
"Harry, Harry, Harry," Ron was shaking his head, his eyes sparkling in laughter as they stepped closer. "We can't leave you alone for a moment without getting mobbed can we? Just don't get a swelled head alright?"
"Sod off," he grunted, his embarrassment still apparent in his voice.
This only fueled Ron's laughter.
"Okay," Hermione did her best to make him stop. "That's enough," but her cheeks were painted pink and a smile played about her lips. "Come on," she tugged at the both of them. "I'm sure Lavender is waiting."
At that comment, Ron's laughter stopped and Harry's began.
~*~
"So," Ron said, flopping down onto the cushioned seat, his legs sprawled in front of him. "Harry I've been thinking."
"That's a first," Hermione sniffed as she settled herself across from him, legs crossed and a book in her lap.
"As I was saying Harry," Ron huffed, sending Hermione a scowl. "I've been thinking. And really, this," he sucked in a deep breath. "This should be yours," he withdrew a parchment wrapped package from his coat pocket.
"What is it?" Harry asked hesitantly, not sure if he should accept it or not.
"Just take it," Ron urged, thrusting the package towards him.
Shrugging, Harry did as he was told, and removed the packet from Ron's outstretched hand. A glance at Hermione told him she didn't know what it was either as he unfolded the paper and opened the envelope. "Ron," he said thickly as he peered inside. "I – I can't take this," he shook his head.
"I only got it because you turned it down," Ron said, softly, staring down at his hands. "It, it really should be yours," he stuttered out once again.
Harry swung up his eyes to meet Ron's. "No," he began to re-wrap the prefect badge back up. "This," he held it up. "Is yours," he tossed it back in Ron's lap. "I won't take it."
"But," Ron sputtered.
"No buts," Harry smiled. "You deserve it Ron," he leaned back in his seat and found Hermione smiling at him. Grinning back he let his eyes sweep over them. "Prefects," he chuckled. "What am I going to do with my two best friends as prefects?"
"Hopefully nothing that we'll have to deduct points for Mr. Potter," Hermione said primly. Her comment fell upon deaf ears.
"Are you sure Harry?" Ron questioned again, turning the badge over and over in his hands; giving him one last chance to accept it.
"I'm sure," Harry assured him. "You keep it. Just don't report me if I sneak out late at night," he winked sagely as Ron grinned.
"Harry!" Hermione said, horrified.
"What?" he swung around to look at her innocently. "Did I say something wrong?" he teased.
She clucked her tongue and shook her head. "Enough of you, I'll just pretend that I didn't hear that," she reached into her pocket and pulled out her glasses. "I'm going to read," she slipped them on and opened her book to the marked page, blocking them out as she lost herself in its pages.
Her glasses; Harry gulped. "Er," he continued to stare at her profile as she read, unaware of the flustered boy sitting next to her.
"Ugh," Ron snorted and threw up his hands in defeat. "That's it," he rose from his seat. "I am not riding all the way to school with you," he looked pointedly at Harry. "Making googly eyes at her," he jutted his chin out, motioning to Hermione, and then stalked over to the door. "I'm off to find Lavender."
"What?" Hermione finally snapped out of her reading in time to see Ron's lanky figure exiting the compartment. "What was all that about?" she turned to look at Harry and found him quite red in the face.
"He, he went to find Lavender," Harry stuttered and desperately tried to tear his eyes away from her, suddenly feeling foolish that the sight of Hermione in her glasses turned him into a bumbling fool.
"Oh," her mouth dropped into an 'O' shape. "I see," she shrugged and picked up in the place she left off in her book. "Harry?" she didn't move her eyes from the page but a smile was spreading across her face.
"Wh – what?" he swallowed hard and raked a hand through his hair.
"You're staring," she blushed and nibbled her lip, she felt like giggling, or singing at his undivided attention. Something, she thought rather smugly, she liked having.
He drew in a deep breath and finally succeeded in dropping his gaze to his lap after several attempts. "Sorry," he muttered. "I – I couldn't help it," he admitted, nervously twisting his hands.
"Oh?" she raised an eyebrow and pursed her lips together, more or less to keep her smile from growing wider and giving her away.
"It's just, well, I mean," he fumbled over his words. "You're, you're um," his face was dangerously warm.
"Just what?" she egged him on, not stopping in her reading. In truth, she'd been staring at the same word since she'd caught him out of the corner of her eye.
"Oh hell," he groaned and rubbed his eyes. "You're wearing your glasses," he finally admitted and stared at the floor in awkwardness.
"Is that all?" she lifted her eyes from the page and gave him a heart-melting smile, her eyes shinning in laughter and causing the air to catch in his lungs.
"Yeah," he turned his head away and scratched the back of his neck. "I know, I know, it was a stupid thing to say," his voice dropped lower.
"Oh Harry," she shut her book gently and placed it on the seat beside her. "It wasn't stupid at all," she slid her arm through his and gave it a squeeze. "In fact, I thought it was sweet," she chuckled a bit. "I don't mind if you want to stare at me," she sighed and laid her head on his shoulder.
"Really?" Harry sighed in relief, running a hand through his hair again and leaned over to rest his head on top of hers.
"Really," she nodded. "But," she went on. "We might have a problem if you can't form a complete sentence every time you see me in my glasses," she grinned. "I don't think that would go over well in class, especially Potions," shivering lightly at the thought of Snape's scowling face.
"Right," he murmured, shifting slightly so he could bury his nose into her hair. "You're always right," he said absently, losing himself in her scent and presence; the faint sound of the train whistle blowing marked their departure for another year at school.
"Not always," she whispered and let herself relax against him as the train lurched forward. "Just most of the time."
"Nope," he disagreed with her, twisting a strand of her hair around his finger and planting a kiss on her forehead. "Always," he whispered in her ear as his eyes slipped closed.
~*~
"Aww, aren't they cute?" Lavender sighed, a dreamy look in her eyes as she and Ron stood in the doorway of the compartment, taking in the sight of Hermione resting her head on Harry's shoulder and his arm wrapped around her waist. Both were sleeping soundly.
"Yeah," Ron crossed his arms and snorted. "Cute."
Lavender flashed him a disapproving look. "What?" she narrowed her eyes and mimicked his stance.
"What do you mean what?" Ron shuffled slightly and avoided her look.
She shook her head, a bitter smile on her face. "Jealousy doesn't suit you Ron," Lavender regarded him with a harsh look. "Not at all."
He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry," he dropped his head down and looked at the floor, intently staring at the worn and faded pattern on the carpet. "I – I guess," he stopped and nervously wiped his hands on his trouser legs. "I'm not jealous," he said softly. "I'm not," he finally looked at her. "It's just, what, what if they don't have time…"
"Time for you?" Lavender finished, a soft look in her eyes.
"Yeah," he spared Harry and Hermione's sleeping forms another look and then hung his head, scuffing his shoe on the floor.
"That won't happen," she reached out and laid a gentle hand on his arm. "Listen to me," she ducked her head to meet his eyes. "They're still your best friends Ron," she inched closer. "Even if they are together. They're finally happy, and I know, I know they'd want you to be happy for them as well. And even after everything that happened last term, they would never intentionally hurt you, ever. Just be happy for them Ron."
He gave a grunt as she held his gaze and shook his head ruefully, looping an arm around her shoulders. "You're right, and I am happy for them, I just needed to be reminded of that. Thanks Lav."
She snuggled closer to him, lacing her own arm around his waist and resting her head against his chest as they swayed slightly from the movement of the train. "You're welcome, besides," she looked up at him with a smile on her face. "You still have me," she hooked a hand behind his neck and pulled his head down to give him a kiss on the cheek. His ears were bright pink when she pulled away and a blush was creeping up his neck. "Come on," she interlaced their fingers together and stepped back into the hall. "Let's leave them alone."
~*~
Green eyes cracked open, squinting slightly at the light that was still seeping through the open window. Shifting in his seat, he twisted his neck to work out the kinks and attempted to stretch his shoulders, only to find that he couldn't move his right side. Slowly turning his head, he grinned as he recognized the head of brown hair resting against him. His smile growing wider, he reached across his chest in order to run his hand through her hair, letting each strand slip through his fingers like water as he gazed tenderly at the girl beside him. She turned in her sleep at his gentle touch but didn't fully wake, the rocking motion of the train lulling her back into her dreams.
Taking the opportunity to observe her as she slept, Harry let his eyes roam freely over her, taking in every detail. The way her eyelashes showed up inky black against her pale cheeks, her perfect, in his opinion, nose, and then down to her full lips which were parted slightly as she let out her peaceful and even breaths. It wasn't often that he got the chance to study her in sleep, and he rather liked it. Her glasses were folded and held in one hand that lay resting on her lap, and her book had somehow ended up on the floor during the course of their nap, the cover open and the pages bent.
Leaning over slightly, Harry pressed a feather-light kiss to the top of her head and settled back into his seat more comfortably as he held her closer. He sighed softly, coming to terms with the fact that he'd probably never get enough of being with her and not minding the idea one bit. Enjoying the sounds of the muffled chatter and laughter coming from nearby compartments and from students wandering up and down the aisle, he let his gaze slip over to the window and watched as the landscape went speeding by, a blur of green and brown. The sun had begun to set; painting the sky a brilliant orange and making the shadows lengthen and darken as the sun slipped beyond the horizon. Next to him, Hermione let out a sigh and stirred.
"Hey," she whispered sleepily as she rubbed at her eyes.
"Hey," he smiled. "I didn't wake you did I?"
"No, you didn't," she adjusted herself into a less neck-breaking position. "I've been awake for awhile now," she told him.
"You were?"
She nodded and slid a hand up his chest to rest on his shoulder.
"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked.
"I don't know," she shrugged one shoulder. "I just wanted to listen to your heart beating," she said bashfully.
"Oh," he chuckled lightly, resting his hand in the curve of her waist. "Did it stop?" he joked. "Or make weird noises?"
"No," she arched her neck to look up at him and her hand came up to curl around his neck. "It sounded perfect," she looked at him with half-lidded eyes, those dark pools of brown and gold that made him lose all conscious thought. The fading light outside didn't help his current situation as he fought to remain in control of his emotions. Streams of orange light danced across Hermione's hair, turning it into burnished copper that shimmered and cascaded over her shoulders like liquid metal.
Her eyes drew him in with an invisible force, until his forehead was resting lightly against hers, and he lost himself within their depths, almost as if he were sinking into a chocolate sea. Her breath was warm and sweet against his lips and her hand was combing through his hair as his own hand came up to caress her cheek; her skin felt like silk against his calloused thumb. "H – Hermione," he whispered thickly, his heart beating loudly in his ears.
"Harry," she whispered back, their lips mere centimeters from touching.
"Oy!" the sound of an amused voice tore through their moment, making them spring apart in surprise. "What are you two doing?"
Shaking his head ruefully, Harry swung round to face the door. "Ron," he greeted the grinning figure before him, now dressed in his school robes, slightly glaring from behind his glasses.
"Finally you two are awake," Ron snorted, ignoring Harry's glare, and stalked over to his vacated seat and flopped down. "Sorry," he looked at Harry and Hermione in turn. "Did I interrupt something?" he asked, blinking innocently although too innocently to be sincere in his questioning.
Hermione refused to look at him and instead made a production of retrieving her forgotten book. She scowled at the bent pages, her fingers smoothing out the wrinkles as best as she could, and then wiped off its cover with her sleeve before placing it carefully next to her. Harry just managed a guilty smile and twisted the hem of his shirt nervously between his fingers.
"Anyway," Ron went on, grinning widely at their lack of response to his question, a sly look in his blue eyes. "We're almost there," he informed them with an air of authority. "I saved you both a chocolate frog since you've slept right through when the cart came," he tossed them each a gold and blue cardboard wrapped package.
"Thanks," Harry felt the faint hunger pangs in his stomach. "Hermione," he nudged her in the side lightly, noting that she had yet to acknowledge the treat, or Ron. "Aren't you hungry?"
She finally spoke. "A bit," she smiled and then looked at Ron. "Thank you Ron," she unwrapped hers and took a delicate bite.
"Sure," he leaned back and laced his hand behind his head, crossing his legs at the ankle. "So, any ideas as to who our new Defense teacher is?" he asked them both.
Harry shrugged and continued eating, tearing the head off the wiggling frog. "I dunno," he swallowed. "At least we're having one this term."
"True," Ron agreed. "Let's just hope it won't be Snape," he joked. "I'm sure his idea of a good Defense class would be to hex us all and see what we look like afterwards, with the exception of the Slytherins that is."
"Er - yeah," Harry fiddled with the empty chocolate frog box. "He's, he's not all that bad you know," he said softly, remembering.
"I know, I know," Ron sighed. "But, somehow I don't think his momentary lapse will make him any nicer to us this year."
"You never know Ron," Hermione chimed in, the voice of reason, the voice of compassion. "You never know."
They were soon joined by Lavender and Ginny, who'd been off gossiping with Parvati Patil and her twin sister, Padma, and spent the rest of the trip happily chatting about what each of them did during their summer holiday. They were quite a sight to those passing by; Hermione curled up beside Harry, Lavender seated next to Ron, and then Ginny, sitting next to them, but apart at the same time.
"You know something," Ron said thoughtfully, tapping a finger on his chin. "I haven't seen Malfoy's ugly mug so far," he mused.
"I know," Lavender joined in. "Usually he's been to every compartment by now, spreading his lies and bullying others," she scowled at the thought. "Stupid git," she huffed.
"Well, well, well," an all too familiar voice drawled from the door. "If it isn't Potty, Brown, the two Weasels, and the mud…"
"Christ," Ron rolled his eyes and cut Malfoy off before he could finish his insults. "Speak of the devil," he shared an irritated look with Harry whose face had gone pale at Malfoy's unfinished insult of Hermione. It didn't take a genius to know what he was going to call her. "We were wondering what rock you'd hidden yourself under Malfoy," he spat out; his eyes narrowing as he carefully watched the blonde, who surprisingly wasn't followed by his two goons.
"Nice comeback Weasley," Malfoy sneered, leaning against the doorframe and giving him a cool look. "Did it take you all summer to think that one up?" he sounded bored and gave them all a look of distain.
"What do you want?" Harry asked, annoyed, meeting Draco's steely gaze with his own.
Malfoy chuckled and shook his head before his face fell back into his trademark sneer. "How disgusting is this?" he motioned towards Harry and Hermione's linked hands and ignoring Harry's question. "You're actually dating that? I should have guessed it," he arched an eyebrow. "First she dates the Weasel and now you? She's nothing more than a…" he was cut off.
"That's it," Harry's temper shot up and he rose to his feet, his face paler and his eyes glittering dangerously as he stepped towards the smirking Slytherin. "I can let it slide when you insult me, but," he clenched his jaw. "Not Hermione."
"Oh, I'm scared Potter," Malfoy hissed, matching Harry's hard look. "Really scared," he snickered, and with a swish of his robes, he swooped out of their compartment.
"That was weird," Ron commented, discreetly sliding his wand back into his pocket. "Usually he's got more insults to throw around than that," he shared a confused look with Lavender and Ginny just stared out the window.
"Yeah," Harry muttered, not quite sure of what to make of Malfoy's abrupt exit. "Hermione? Are you alright?" he sat back down next to her.
Her face was a bit whiter and her eyes were swimming in hurt. At his question, she managed a wobbly smile and a nod.
"Don't pay any attention to him Hermione," Lavender said soothingly, reaching out and giving the other girl a comforting pat on the hand. "He's nothing but a spoiled brat who'll say anything to make himself feel better."
"I know," she mumbled, swiping a chunk of hair behind her ear. "It still doesn't make it hurt any less," she sighed deeply. "Well," she changed the subject. "I suppose we should go change," she looked at Harry and reached for their robes that were tied in a bundle. "Like Ron said, we should be there soon."
~*~
"'Ello 'Arry," Hagrid's huge figure loomed over them as the students came exiting off the train, one large hand grasping the handle of a lighted lantern.
"Hey Hagrid," he returned the greeting, nearly getting knocked over as the giant swatted him on his shoulder, thankfully Hermione and Ron had both grabbed onto him at just the right moment.
"Hagrid," Hermione's face lit up in a smile as she unwound her hand from the fabric of Harry's robe.
"'Ermione," a smile widened behind his bushy beard. "And Ron," he nodded in the red heads direction. "'Ow was yer summer?" he asked while keeping an eye out for the lost look signifying the first years.
"Good," Hermione responded. Ron just nodded. "How about yours?"
"Eh, well I got some new animals while yeh were gone on yer holiday, I'll tell yeh all 'bout 'em later," he sounded pleased, and then suddenly lifted his hand into the air. "First years, this way!" There was a collective sigh of relief as the new students grouped together around him. "Alright yeh three," he looked back down at Harry, Ron, and Hermione. "Yeh come fer tea sometime soon and yeh can tell me all 'bout yer summer. I've gotta job ta do," he winked and ushered the first years towards the boats like a shepard with his sheep.
"It's good to be back, isn't it Harry?" Ron chuckled and slung an arm round Harry's shoulders.
"Yeah," he nodded and glanced at Hermione. "Well," he sighed. "We should go find Lavender and Ginny and get a carriage."
"Right," Ron straightened. "I'll go get them, won't be a minute."
~*~
The Great Hall looked as it always did, dozens upon dozens of candles floating gently throughout the hall, casting their soft glow on the four rows of wooden tables, each laden down with golden plates and goblets. The hum of talking students filled the room as each one made their way to their respective house tables and took their usual places, awaiting the arrival of the first years that needed to be sorted.
They finally arrived, still grouped together in their tight bunch, as they looked around the room with awe and a hint of fear in their eyes. Leading the procession was Professor McGonagall; the list of their names rolled up and held tightly in one hand, as she swept up the aisle, her typical stern look gracing her face. All talk stopped as they approached the front of the room and then came to a stop before the teacher's table, the sorting hat sitting on its usual perch of a wooden stool waiting to be placed on their heads.
"Ugh," Ron groaned and rubbed his growling stomach, tearing his gaze away from the sorting. "I wish they'd hurry up," he stared mournfully at his empty plate. "I'm starving."
"After all the candy you consumed on the train," Lavender said from beside him. "I'm surprised you're hungry at all. You practically bought half the cart," she grinned
The tips of his ears began to burn at her words. "Er – yeah," he shifted in his seat.
"Shh," Hermione raised a finger to her lips to silence them as Professor Dumbledore rose from his chair to give the opening speech. "They're starting."
Ron rolled his eyes and caught Harry's gaze and sent him a wink. "Look what you've gotten yourself into," he mouthed.
Harry only grinned and shrugged, then directed his attention to the front of the room. He knew just as well as Ron did, there was no arguing with Hermione.
~*~
"I see you're getting the hang of this," Harry smirked as he settled comfortably on the crimson couch in the common room. "Whoever would have thought that Ron Weasley would make a good prefect?" he cocked his head and stared at the flash of gold on Ron's chest. He'd been waiting downstairs as Ron and Hermione went through familiarizing the new first year Gryffindor's of their new surroundings.
Ron only grinned as he ambled his way over, puffing out his chest slightly at Harry's comment.
"Actually," Hermione's voice floated down from the direction of the girl's dormitories. "He did a wonderful job last year," she reached the landing and began to head in their direction.
His smirk faded into a wistful smile. "So I've heard," he sighed and slung an arm round Hermione's shoulders once she'd seated herself next to him. "Sorry I missed it," he looked back in Ron's direction.
"S'okay," Ron mumbled, his face slowly turning pink.
"Harry," Hermione looked pointedly at him.
"Yeah I know, no more living in the past," he paused and leaned his head back, staring up at the ceiling.
"Right," she covered a yawn with her hand. "Well I'm beat," she announced and slid off the couch. "I'll see you two in the morning."
"Alright," Harry nodded and gave her a wink. "Good night Hermione."
"Night," and she swept up the staircase and into her room, turning to shut the door behind her gently.
"What?" Ron began his teasing anew. "No good night kiss?" he smirked.
Harry flushed. "Er – not tonight," he scratched his head and avoided Ron's look.
"I heard that Ron Weasley!" Hermione's voice called out just as the door was closing.
"Blimey, can't even whisper without that girl hearing everything," Ron sighed and shook his head. "It's not right I tell you, not right at all. What if we wanted to talk about guy stuff?"
Harry stifled a grunt and waited until the door was firmly latched behind her, not wanting to take any chances. "Hey Ron?" he half-whispered to the red-head.
"Yeah?"
"Tell me if this is a stupid idea will you?" he asked, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.
"What?" Ron sauntered over to a chair facing him and sat down, an expectant look on his face.
"Er – well, Hermione's birthday is coming up," he began, clasping his hands together in front of him.
"Yeah, so?" Ron frowned.
"Well, I – I wanted to do something special for her," Harry flushed slightly.
"How special are you talking?" Ron's eyes narrowed in suspicion as he took in Harry's blushing face.
His face turned a deeper shade of red. "No, no, not that kind of special," he ducked his head as he caught onto Ron's implied meaning. "Er – not that I wouldn't want too, but I don't think we're ready for that just yet."
"Humph," Ron leaned back in his chair and crossed his long arms, slightly relieved. It was one thing to know that they were dating, but an entirely different situation to know that they were taking the next step. "Well," he paused. "What are you thinking of then?"
"Can you make sure no one's in the common room that night?"
He shrugged. "Sure, I suppose I could my powers as a prefect to clear the room," he smirked. "So, what are you gonna do?"
"Look," Harry rose to a standing position and began to pace back and forth, his hands clasped behind his back. "I know you're both wanting to get over the past," he sent a casual look towards the reposed figure of his best friend and saw him nod. "And I agree with you, although it's a bit harder for me to let go of than it is for you. After all, I was the one that did it," he sighed. "There's just one more thing I need to do for her and then hopefully I can let the past rest."
"Which is?" Ron arched an eyebrow.
Harry smiled. "You'll see," he came to a stop in front of the fireplace, letting his eyes travel over the dancing flames. "When's the first trip to Hogsmead?"
"Next weekend."
"Good," he turned to look at him. "Can you keep Hermione busy for awhile while we're there?"
~*~
"Here are your schedules," Professor McGonagall swept up and down the length of the Gryffindor table during breakfast, a pile of crisp, white parchment in her hands. "Please note, you will be having a Defense class this term." Faint cheers met her announcement.
"Excuse me Professor," Hermione piped in as McGonagall handed her the schedule.
"Yes Miss Granger?" she stopped.
"Um, we were wondering," she glanced briefly at Harry and Ron who were both leaning forward in anticipation of her question and McGonagall's answer. "Who is the Defense teacher this year? Professor Dumbledore didn't make any announcements last night during the feast. And there was an empty spot at the table."
A slight smile creased the elderly woman's face as her eyes swept over the now silent Gryffindor's. "Your new Defense teacher wasn't able to make it last night for the Welcoming Feast," she informed them. "He ran into some unexpected troubles on the way here."
"Oh," Hermione glanced down at her paper, her eyes scanning over the contents to see if it listed the unknown Defense Against The Dark Arts teacher.
"But, rest assured," McGonagall went on, clasping her hands tightly in front of her. "Professor Lupin will be here for today's lesson."
"Professor Lupin?" Harry asked, excitedly.
"Yes Mr. Potter," she nodded and adjusted her glasses on her nose. "Professor Lupin will be teaching your Defense class this term."
All up and down the Gryffindor table, wide smiles and happy whispers broke out as McGonagall finished handing out the schedules and then left to go sit at the head table next to Dumbledore.
"Bloody hell!" Ron slapped his hand on the table and sent the salt shaker rattling, his blue eyes dancing and a huge grin on his face. "Professor Lupin's back!"
~*~
They were the first to arrive in the Defense classroom, anticipation bubbling through their veins. "Professor Lupin!" they cried, spying their favorite teacher sitting at his desk, his battered briefcase at his feet.
He looked relatively the same, although the hair was a bit grayer around his ears and the lines around his eyes seemed a bit deeper. "Hello you three," he rose with a smile, his eyes twinkling in delight. "It's wonderful to see you all again."
"You too Professor Lupin," Hermione broke in, matching Lupin's grin with her own.
"And what's this?" he raised his eyebrows at the sight of Harry and Hermione's joined hands. "A new development I see," he chuckled. "And I thought Sirius was pulling my leg."
In front of him, Ron sniggered while Harry and Hermione flushed.
"So," Harry began, trying to change the subject. "How've you been Professor?"
"Good," Lupin stepped down from behind his desk and came to stand in front of them. "Although sometimes I'll admit, I've been better."
"You weren't at the Welcoming Feast last night," Ron interjected.
"Ah yes," he rocked on his toes. "Well, I had a bit of a spell," he scratched his ear. "It seems as though I've run out of Professor Snape's Wolfsbane potion," he shrugged. "I was trying to get here before that happened, but unfortunately I couldn't. But not to worry, he's brewing me up a new batch as we speak."
Just then, the rest of the students came flooding in, cutting their conversation short.
"Alright you three," he glanced down at them. "We'll talk more later," he winked and stepped back behind his desk. "Welcome to Defense Against The Dark Arts," he began. "As most of you recall, I'm Professor Lupin," heads bobbed and wide smiles broke out. "Now," he began to pace in front of the room. "I've heard that you didn't have a Defense class last term," more nods. "Well then, we have a lot of catching up to do, so we best get started. Please turn to page ten in your textbooks; today we're going to begin with Dementors," he looked directly at Harry. "Not necessarily just how to defend yourself against them, but the study of their origin. The more you know, the safer you'll be in the long run."
~*~
"Ugh," Ron took a break from shoveling mashed potatoes in his mouth in order to whine. "Homework on the first day," he groaned. "Why is it that all teachers think we should dive headfirst into our school work again?" he slumped in his chair. "Including Professor Lupin," he continued to grouse. "Imagine, a two foot essay on the history of the Black Forest Trolls," he paused and then sighed. "Ugh, why?"
"I dunno," Hermione looked at him over the rim of her glasses. "Maybe because it is school? We're supposed to learn?" she rolled her eyes. "Honestly Ron, how did you ever pass your O.W.L.'s? Mr. I-passed-with-just-enough-so-my-mum-didn't-hex-me."
He grunted. "By sheer luck I think," he sighed again and then picked up his fork once more. "And I don't want to hear anything more from you, Miss I-got-the-highest-score-out-of-our-year," he speared a piece of ham from the platter in the center of the table rather violently.
She flushed and Harry just smiled at their banter.
"Hey," Lavender thankfully interrupted them, rushing over after finishing her daily gossip session with Parvati.
"Hey," Ron returned around a mouthful of ham. "What's got you so chipper?" he eyed her carefully, steeling himself for a barrage of meaningless gossip.
"Nothing," she practically sang out as she loaded her plate with food. "Er – well at least nothing you'd want to know," she gave Hermione a discreet wink. "Just girl stuff is all."
"Bleech," Ron wrinkled his nose. "You're right, I don't want to know."
Across from him, Hermione chuckled and shook her head. "Aww, what's the matter Ron?" she joined in. "Don't you want to know what we girls talk about late at night? Who's got a crush on who and who we'd like to snog?"
"What?" Harry looked at her with wide eyes, breaking into their conversation. "Did I just hear you say you talk about who you'd like to snog?"
"Er – I was only joking," she said sheepishly, dropping her eyes in embarrassment. "I've never participated in such things, I've just listened."
"Right," his eyes narrowed but his mouth twitched as he fought back a smile. "So, out with it Miss Granger," he crossed his arms and shared an amused look with Ron. "Who do you want to snog?"
Her face was burning with heat as three sets of eyes waited for her answer. "Ugh," she tossed her hands up in the air. "If you must know," she said smugly. "I've already snogged him," she smiled devilishly, picking up her fork and causally lifting another bite to her mouth.
"Er…" Harry stuttered as he watched the fork disappear between her lips while Ron and Lavender began chuckling. "Oh," he said lamely, his pulse skyrocketing at the sight and sending his blood rushing loudly through his ears. His eyes glazed over and his jaw sagged slightly as he continued to gape at her.
"Stop it," Ron hooted in laughter at Harry's dazed look, clutching onto Lavender's slim shoulders to keep himself from falling over onto the floor. "The both of you." Lavender wasn't fairing any better, having seen the dazed look on Harry's face, giving him the appearance that he'd lost his mind completely.
It was partly true, that he'd lost his mind; hence the reason he seemed to be so dumbstruck whenever he was in Hermione's presence. And he couldn't stop his mind from going blank, or the world from fading away when he saw her any more than he could ask himself to stop breathing. She was his world, his lifeline when things got too crazy around him, his heart. It was a natural reaction to go into a mind-meltdown he supposed; one that he was sure didn't influence only him.
Being of the male gender himself, he could personally attest to the looks and slight murmurs of appreciation of the other boys, usually regardless of which house they were in, with exception of Slytherin, whenever Hermione walked through the halls or even entered a room. They watched with keen eyes the way her hips swayed under the confines of her school robes, or the way her eyes would light up whenever a teacher asked a question and she knew the answer, or the way she smiled, that heart-warming, knee-weakening, lung-constricting smile that thankfully she reserved for only him. A natural reaction, he tried to remind himself as he fought to keep his breathing even and his face from burning, although this time it left him open to the teasing of his other best friend. And said best friend was going to do just that...but later.
"What?" Hermione had finished chewing and shot a look at her two chuckling friends, a slight frown on her face.
"N – nothing," Ron stuttered, desperately trying to control himself.
"Boys," she muttered, setting her fork on the table and wiping her lips with her napkin. "Anyway," she took a final sip of her pumpkin juice. "I'm off to the library," she announced.
"Typical Hermione response," Ron muttered out of the side of his mouth.
"Ron," she rose from her seat and propped her hands on her hips. "As you said before, all of our teachers have given us homework…"
"But Hermione," Ron whined. "Our homework isn't due until next week!" he slouched in his seat and crossed arms.
"Really Ron," she huffed and rolled her eyes. "That isn't the only reason I want to go to the library," she raised an eyebrow in a silent hint.
Realization finally dawned on him, as well as Harry and Lavender. "Oh, right," he shared a look with Harry who'd let out a sigh.
He'd successfully forgotten all about their trip into Knockturn Alley and their little visit with Madam Lissette. The good news of Professor Lupin's return and excitement of being back at school and starting Quidditch soon had shoved all the worries far into the back of his mind. Suddenly somber and no longer hungry, he too pushed back from the table.
"Do you need a hand?" he asked Hermione softly.
"Only if you're willing to lend one," she eyed him carefully. "I know how much you detest the library, especially when you don't have to go there."
He smiled weakly and shrugged. "Well, I don't really have anything else to do at the moment. Besides, two heads are better than one."
"Three," Ron cut in. "Oww," he grunted suddenly.
"Four," Lavender smiled sweetly as she retracted her elbow from Ron's side.
Hermione grinned. "Wonderful. Tell you what," she spoke to Lavender. "Harry and I will meet you there."
"Alright," Ron wheezed, rubbing his stinging side and glowered at the girl next to him.
Smiling and shaking her head, Hermione and Harry headed for the doors, on their way to the library. The last words they heard from Ron before they were out of range were, "Whatcha do that for?"
~*~
"Did you find anything yet?" Harry asked wearily, slipping off his glasses and rubbing his eyes as he took a break from the fifth book that he'd thumbed through. His shoulders ached from being hunched over the pages and pages of information and his eyes felt scratchy and his vision blurry from staring at dozens of moving pictures and endless small script.
Across from him, Hermione sighed and shook her head in a silent 'no'. Propping her elbows on the smooth, wooden surface of the table, she dropped her chin into her upturned hand. "Not a thing," she finally spoke, softly as to not attract any unwanted attention from the stern librarian. "Nothing even mentioning the words anima caterra," her shoulders were beginning to slump in the early stages of a defeated attitude.
"Hey," he whispered, reaching across to take her hand. "We'll find something," he encouraged her. "You know this library forwards and backwards," he winked. "And, like you've said before, Hogwarts has one of the largest and extensive libraries in the wizarding world. If there's something here, we'll find it. Besides, Ron and Lavender may have had better luck than us."
Hermione snorted and sent him a knowing look.
"Okay, okay," he held up his hands in defense. "Maybe not."
She leveled her stare. "Harry," she began and leaned forward slightly. "Ron has been paying more attention to Lavender than to which book he's been 'reading' the last half hour," she finished with a smirk.
Arching an eyebrow, he twisted in his chair and craned his neck around to glance over towards the table that Ron and Lavender were occupying. He and Hermione watching in silent amusement as they witnessed Ron trying to inconspicuously stare at Lavender over the edge of his book; the title of said book which read, "Hairstyles For The Fashionable Witch". Upon seeing which tome supposedly had Ron's undivided attention, Harry choked back his sudden desire to howl in laughter. He quickly slapped a hand over his mouth and swung back around in his seat, meeting Hermione's laughing brown eyes with his own.
"Remind me later," he fought to keep his laughter in check. "To make fun of Ron."
She laughed softly in response before dropping her eyes back down to the open, forgotten book before her and absently turned a few more pages. "Seeing as we haven't had any luck finding anything about anima caterra, we might as well see what other information we can find for our essay for Defense," she sighed. "At least we got Dementors as a topic," her eyes swept over the page. "They shouldn't be too hard to find information on."
"Yeah," Harry nodded, rubbing at a sore spot on the back of his neck. "That's true," he took a deep breath before leaning back down to stare at his open book.
"This is odd," Hermione finally spoke up after a brief moment of silence.
"What is?" Harry asked absently, turning the page.
"There's a page missing," she frowned.
"Huh?" he glanced at the page numbers as Hermione slid the book over towards him. It was true, the volume she was leafing through jumped from page 409 to 412. Further evidence of the vandalism was the jagged edge near the binding of the book, all that was left of pages 410-411. "That is odd," he agreed with her, unsure of why anyone would want to rip out a page of a boring library book. "What do you think it was about? Think it was anything important?"
"I dunno," she shrugged her shoulders. "Well, the pages before and after were about Dementors," she could only scowl at the ruined book. "So, I'm assuming that this page had to do with their history."
"Hmm," Harry had already forgotten about the torn page and had his head buried deeply in the crook of his arm that was resting on the table. "Hermione?" he spoke to the table.
"What?"
"There are tons of other books that will have information on Dementors," he reminded her. "And like Ron said, our essays aren't due until next week."
"And?" she favored him with a knowing look, already guessing at what he was going to say next. "What is your point?"
"My point is," he looked up at her with pleading eyes. "We have time to do our research later, on both subjects," he grinned. "Can't we go do something fun now?"
At his beseeching look, Hermione sighed and slowly shut the book and tapped one finger on the glossy cover. "It depends," she began, a gleam in her eyes and a sly smile spreading across her face. "What do you consider fun?"
~*~
The fog had rolled in across Hogwarts in the form of thin, gray mist that clung heavily to the dips and hollows along the grounds, and skimmed lightly over the expanse of the lake, blending with the gray water until it was hard to determine where one ended and the other began. It clung to the leaves, making them droop with the added weight, it soaked into the bark of the surrounding trees, turning their trunks black and water logged. Each remaining blade of grass that still poked through the dying earth was covered with tiny droplets of moisture; small, translucent beads that shone like diamonds along the ground. The overlay of clouds above looked pregnant with rain, threatening to burst at any moment.
There was also the smell, the scent of soon changing weather. Changing from the cool, earthy scent of fall, to that of the brisk, crisp smell of the oncoming winter. But as the weather had yet too actually change, the outdoors was still a place to roam when one was sick of being cooped up indoors, or in this case, the library. And it was within this setting, with the leaves falling in all their colorful glory, that two figures were taking a walk around the lake.
"This is nice," Hermione sighed, hitching her cloak round her shoulders more securely to keep out the damp air that threatened to seep into her bones.
"Hmm," Harry agreed absently, his eyes fixated on her rosy cheeks and sparkling eyes rather than paying attention to her words.
"It reminds me of fourth year," she went on, not noticing his silence. "When you and I would take our walks after the whole goblet incident."
He shook his head to clear out his thoughts, allowing her words to sink in. "Yeah," he let his mind wander back through time. "Did I ever tell you how much those walks meant to me?" he asked, taking his hand out of his pocket to reach for hers.
"No," she shook her head, suddenly feeling a bit shy.
"Ah, well," he took her hand in his, running his thumb over the back of her hand before raising it to his lips. "They meant a lot," he pressed a kiss to her fingers. "After Ron was convinced I'd lied to him about putting my name in, and everyone else giving me the cold shoulder because of Cedric," he said haltingly. "It was nice to know that someone still believed me, still wanted to be my friend and didn't mind being seen with me," he tugged her closer.
She went willingly. "Harry?" she whispered, resting her head on his shoulder. "When did you realize you liked me more than a friend?" she asked softly, snuggling closer to the warmth his body offered.
"Er – well," he began, reaching up to stroke her hair. "I suppose it began in third year."
"Third year?"
"Yeah," he nodded. "When you and I were rescuing Buckbeak and Sirius," he grinned at the memory of how tightly she'd held onto him while they were flying on the newly freed hippogriff. "And then it just grew during our fourth year. You were always there for me, no matter what anyone else thought."
"So then," she lifted her head to look him in the eye. "Why is it that you didn't react the way Ron did after the Yule Ball? You know, during the whole Krum thing?"
"Because," he reached out and ran a hand down the side of her face. "Who am I to tell you who you can and can't go with? He did ask you first after all," he shrugged. "And, I didn't want to make a fool of myself in case you'd never like me as anything more than a friend."
"I think I've always loved you," she said suddenly, burying her face in his chest once more. "I mean, sure it started out as an infatuation of course, since I'd read about you only in books," she paused. "But then when I met you on the train, I dunno," she sighed. "I guess I expected you to be completely different. And then I had to go spouting off about reading all about you," she flushed, thankful he couldn't see her face. "After I'd left your compartment, I wanted to slap myself for being such a fool."
"Really?" he asked in surprise. "Actually, I wasn't quite sure of what to make of you then," he sighed. "Mostly I was shocked that you'd pointed your wand right in my face, I wasn't sure what you were about to do with it. It was a good thing you only wanted to fix my glasses," he paused and settled her more comfortably in his arms. "So, you thought I'd be different how?"
"Arrogant, superficial, kind of like Malfoy," she heard him chuckle at her words. "You defeated him after all. But you're not," she pulled back once more. "You're considerate and selfless, you're, you're my everything," the smile she gave him was a bit unsteady.
"Hermione," he choked out, his heart constricting tightly in his chest. "God, how'd I ever get so lucky to win you?" he placed a hand on either side of her face.
She gave him a wide grin. "Don't you know?" she arched an eyebrow and brought her hands up to encircle his wrists. "You saved me from that troll in first year. After that, I didn't have a choice."
"Ron helped too you know," he smirked.
"Yeah, but Ron was also the reason I'd locked myself up in the bathroom that night," she reminded him. "If he hadn't made his comments after Charms, who knows what might have happened then."
"Oh, right," he leaned forward and rested his forehead against hers. "Silly prat that he is, although, dare I say, it did work out for the best, for all of us."
"That it did," she agreed.
"Can I ask you something?" he said softly.
"Of course, anything."
"Why didn't you and Ron, well, you know," he half-shrugged. "Try and work out your relationship. I mean, it wasn't as if I was in your good graces at the time."
Hermione thought for a moment before answering. "Ron and I," she began, trying to choose her words carefully. "Well, we're more different than we are compatible with each other. Everyone thought that since we fought so much, deep down inside we were harboring some steamy romantic notions about the other when really all it was about was that we had a complete personality clash," she paused. "He's a wonderful friend and I do love him, but it's more like the love you'd have for a brother. And, Ron knew that I was never in love with him, just as he's not in love with me."
"Oh, I see. So," he began slowly. "For never having a girlfriend before, and having the romantic sense of a moron, how am I doing?" his voice dropped lower at his question.
"Perfect," she breathed out, punctuating her heartfelt words by staring directly in his endless green eyes and sliding her grip from his wrists to rest on the backs of his hands. "You're doing absolutely perfect."
"I am?" he asked in wonderment, losing himself to her touch.
"Uh-huh," she nodded. "Harry…" she was cut off by a drop of rain falling on her cheek.
He chased it away with his thumb and then glanced upwards as more fat drops began to fall. "Er – I," he glanced around quickly, debating on whether or not to head back inside, or find some sort of shelter from the oncoming rain. He spied a tall oak tree, its branches spread wide, offering an umbrella of sorts. "Come on," he tugged at her arm.
The falling drizzle started slowly enough, a light pattering here and there, collecting into small pools and rivulets on the ground. By the time they were halfway to the tree, the sky had opened and the rain began to fall harder, collecting in their hair, their clothes, and streaking their faces with its wetness.
"Harry!" Hermione was in between wanting to laugh and squeal at the same time.
"Run faster!" he was laughing himself, still keeping his tight hold on her hand, their robes fluttering behind them and their shoes squelching in the muddy ground as they ran. They finally reached the trees protection, both of them still laughing as they huddled together under the dense branches, watching the rain fall around them, veiling them from the outside world.
Fighting to catch her breath after their short sprint, Hermione leaned back against the tree trunk and swiped her damp hair away from her face, tucking as much of it as she could behind her ears. In front of her, Harry rubbed as much rain out of his hair that he could, and then slipped his glasses off and blindly searched for a dry patch on his robe so he could clean them.
"Your birthday is coming up," he said suddenly, still searching his robe. "Is there anything you'd like to do?" he squinted at her.
"No, not really," she crossed her arms and smiled back at him. "In fact, I wouldn't have to do anything as long as you're there."
"Ah well," he'd finally cleaned his glasses and slid them back on. "You'll never have to worry about me leaving you," he winked and edged closer to her. "But, I may have a surprise for you."
"A surprise huh?" she raised an eyebrow. "What kind of surprise?"
"Now, now," he wagged a finger in her face. "You know I can't tell you that, otherwise it won't be a surprise."
"But," she pulled a fake pout, her lower lip jutting out slightly.
"And that won't work either," he chuckled and leaned forward, resting both his hands on the tree trunk on either side of her. "You'll find out soon enough."
"Whatever it is," she locked eyes with him. "I'm sure I'll love it," heat was spreading throughout her, starting in her stomach and then steadily seeping to her limbs at his intense gazing. Matching his look with her own, she unconsciously licked her lips in anticipation of the kiss she knew was coming. He didn't disappoint her and dipped his head to meet her lips with his own, starting softly at first and then increasing the pressure as the seconds went by. Her arms snaked around his neck, pulling him closer to her. She was beginning to feel delightfully warm and basked in the enchanting sound of the falling rain mixed with his heady scent of wind and sun that always hovered around him.
They were so engrossed in each other, that they didn't notice the slight figure watching them from a window overlooking the courtyard, seeing their private moment with narrowed eyes.
"Enjoy it while you can," the figure mused silently, a crooked leer twisting their features. "Because it won't last for long," a hand reached up to curl around the necklace, gripping it tightly. "The plans have been made and the time is near. Tonight, I can rest knowing that your life is about to become your worst nightmare and your cries of helplessness will be music to my ears," a low chuckle sounded, ringing dully through the empty corridor. "You won't know the time or the day I'll strike, rather you'll walk in fear and confusion until I take what you love most…her."