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Drabble 6

Harry was sitting on the sofa in his front room, dressed in a comfortable cotton t-shirt, a sweater with a zip neck and casual chino trousers. He'd long since taken off his shoes and was padding around in thick sports socks.

The truth was that Sir Harry Pearce had very little occasion to sit in his front room. Most days he got up and went straight out in the morning and then straight to bed at night. Only on the occasional day off did Harry have time to sit and do things like watch television or drink a scotch. Today, however, was different.

Today Ruth had come over.

Ruth had come over and stood on the doorstep and rung the doorbell. When he'd answered the door in his comfortable casual clothing Ruth had stood dumbstruck on the doorstep.

"Would you like to come in, Ruth, or would you prefer we converse in the doorstep."

"Sorry, its just strange to see you without a suit, Harry." Ruth said and she did come in then and put her bag down by the door and slipped her shoes off.

Harry was quietly pleased. This, hopefully, meant Ruth was staying. "Would you like a cup of tea?"

Half an hour later, full of tea and tunnocks tea-cakes that had been delightfully messy, Harry sat on the sofa turning Ruth's wand over in his hands. She'd left it on the coffee table while she popped to the loo. In his admittedly rather restricted association with wizards and witches, Harry had never once seen one of them willingly part with her wand. Ruth had done it deliberately then, so he reached forwards to pick it up which is how Ruth found him sitting back on the sofa slowly turning her wand in his hands.

Ruth paused beside him and then slowly lowered herself onto the edge of the sofa.

"What's it made of?" Harry asked her.

"Birch," Ruth pressed her hands in between her knees. She wanted to reach out and grab it but she also knew she needed to know she could trust Harry and Harry needed to know he could trust her, that it wasn't a threat to him. She knew Harry Pearce hadn't lived through what had without an astute sense of self-preservation. "The core is dragon heartstring."

"There are dragons?" Harry said, looking like a kid who'd just been told that Santa Claus was coming.

"A few," Ruth smiled. "Wales and Scotland mainly. There are rumours of a few in Yorkshire somewhere but none of the sightings have ever been verified."

"Unverified sightings of dragons. Let us pray that one never becomes a national security issue," Harry muttered to himself. He couldn't help but notice the tense way Ruth held herself and quickly surmised from her brief glance that her anxiety related to the wand he held in his hands. Gently, he offered it back and she took it with a small smile and a 'thank you'. "You don't use it much."

"I don't need to," Ruth shrugged. "I live a muggle life, now."

Harry watched her from his comfortable position slumped against the back of the sofa. He was hoping Ruth would relax for a moment and finally when she caught his staring she sat back and turned her head towards him. Harry felt a little swell of pleasure in his chest that was choosing to spend her time in his company. He worried about saying something, or not saying something. Unlike many women he had dated in the past, declarations of love seemed to terrify Ruth. So Harry had held back but he knew that she knew and he had no reason to hide his feelings from her. Now more than ever they seemed to understand one another without saying anything at all. He reached out an arm and stretched it across the back of the sofa. Ruth shifted a little closer and rested her head on his shoulder and Harry had to admit it felt good. It felt right, for Ruth to be here. Here in his home, here at his side.

"I'll admit it comes in handy for cooking dinner in a hurry," Ruth said.

The comment made Harry laugh out loud and his heart swelled with pride and protective love as Ruth snuggled into his side. Moments later her jaw cracked in an almighty yawn. "You don't mind if I stay here tonight, do you?"

Harry kissed the top of her hair. "Stay forever, Ruth."

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