Twisting the Truth
Dressed in simple black trousers and a long sleeve t-shirt, a decision that had reduced his life expectancy from a hundred years to a scant few minutes, Harry was trudging his way through knee deep snow. With no direction or destination in mind, he mindlessly roamed until a powerful gush of wind made him rotate on his axis and turn the opposite way. His teeth were rutting louder than the eye gouging display of filth that transpired that very morning in Professor Snape's office as he had Rita Skeeter bent over his study table.
Harry, though, remained wholly unaware of his frail state, whether intentionally because he felt this was an easier way to welcome death than whatever baleful attempt awaited him in the second task of the Tri-fuck my life-wizard tournament or because he had finally lost his precious three marbles that were in charge of the tiny cell otherwise referred to as his brain, nobody knew, not even the all-knowing Dumbledore, who would argue otherwise, but not before Harry figured it himself.
The boy who lived finally made his way to the wooden bridge – purely by chance, of course - and thus, added a few extra minutes to his life for one can never be truly sure with Harry. No one, not those who were aware of his existence or those who were well acquainted with him or a handful of those who knew him very well and even the only person who knew him better than anyone in the world and that included himself would be surprised if he either succumbed to his death by leaning against the wooden railing or was zooming the skies on his broomstick in the next minutes.
He was an enigma that Harry Potter, one the person currently sprinting towards him had every intention to crack, literally and figuratively.
"Harry!"
Whirling around, Harry's eyes stretched wide as the bane of his thoughts stood on the threshold of the bridge.
Her face resembled a ripe tomato and he wished more than anything to take a bite, of her cheek; he wasn't a fan of tomatoes.
His eyes trailed down her heavily clothed form and only then did he become aware of his own state.
An ingenious idea flashed through his mind and before it got away, he snatched it and locked it into the hidden crevice of his brain.
Acting quickly, he curled his arms around his torso and leaned back against the railing before doing the worst possible acting in the history of humanity of sliding down.
"HARRY!"
Apparently, the power of love knows no taste, or Hermione had never once sat before a T.V while it was on, for if she had she would've thrown a snowball straight at Harry's head.
What a truly sad day, the humans in Love Island no longer held the title of can't-act-to-save-my-dog's-life.
Harry barely managed to hide his smile as Hermione reached him in a matter of seconds, very short seconds. The girl almost flew.
"Harry, you okay!"
"H-Hermione"
"Oh my god, Harry, you're so cold. I'm going to levitate you to the hospital ward, okay." She cooed, brushing back strands of his hair.
He touched her arm as she was about to perform the spell.
"Hermione?"
"Yes Harry?"
"G-go to the ba-ball wi-with m-me?"
Tears filled Hermione's eyes as for the second time in less than a minute she overlooked what would cause Daniel Day Lewis to plunge his eyes out and stab needles in his ears.
"Oh Harry" she sighed.
….
"And then mummy kissed daddy" Hermione finished telling the story to her daughter who was perched upon her lap.
The little girl giggled as Hermione nuzzled her cheek with her nose. "Tomorrow, I'll tell you how daddy stumbled down the stairs as he was smiling smugly at Viktor Krum."
The 1-year-old gurgled happily as the Floo roared to life.
"Daddy's home."
Hermione got up and settled her daughter high on her waist before making her way to the living room and greeted her husband with a peck.
"How were my girls today?" Harry pinched his daughter's cheek, making her cackle.
"We had a lovely time, I told Lily the story of how you asked me to the yule ball."
Harry's eyebrow's rose to his hairline as he scoffed. "And you gave me shit for telling her about when I battled a hundred dementors but its fine to tell her of how you nearly died because you were stupid enough to roam outside the castle in nothing but sweats in a snowstorm and if it weren't for me, they would still be digging in the snow to find your body."
She shrugged, a secret smile curing her lips upwards "I might have made some changes."
She turned around and headed for the kitchen.
"Brilliant" muttered Harry sarcastically. "I sure hope you have the dignity to not edit anything from the night of the yule ball. She needs to hear the truth of how you fell down the staircase because you couldn't keep your eyes off me." He bellowed, before following her.