Chapter 32 - A Flower Named You

"Oh, one last thing-"

He looked over his shoulder sluggishly, tired eyes falling again on the woman behind the desk.

"Since the ferryman was missing work, I arranged for someone else to handle the job." The woman said evenly, no discernible emotion in her voice. "I'll make sure they know to let you use the boat like before."

He only had the strength to nod before he stepped outside, closing the door softly behind him. His hand lingered for a moment, vacant eyes staring through it. A heavy sigh left his beaten body, and he forced himself to keep moving like always.

"Even with those we have lost, the world relentlessly continues to turn…" Said his pompous companion, words as sophisticated as usual. But it was impossible to hide the weariness that permeated it. When he looked at his friend, it almost seemed like he hung heavier in the air, somehow.

He knew he looked exactly the same.

.

…

…..

….

The top of the dilapidated tower peeked over the dunes just enough to show them the vast expanse of nothingness surrounding them.

Grass moved softly beneath his feet, his cloak dancing softly to the same unknown winds as his friend raced past him, falling to her knees before the single flower sitting in the middle of the ruins.

Her small form trembled slightly, one hand hesitantly reaching for the soft petals, only for it to pass right through. She let her arm fall as the illusion slowly dispersed into static, whole body shaking with emotion as she cried, the sound of her heart cracking like glass echoing in the still air.

He kneeled beside her, hand gently falling to her shoulder. She hugged herself into an even smaller shape, "Is this what you were looking for?" He asked softly.

"I—I don't, don't kn-know," Came her broken voice, barely heard over her sobs, "I don't know…"

His hand went to her hair, tenderly caressing it, and the little girl threw herself into his arms, muffling her wails into his chest.

Ashes floated through the air, mingling with the noise, and he focused on it, watching it disappear into the endless horizon, as he held on to his cracking friend with all his might.

The first thing Nathan smelled as he woke up was flowers, and the first thing he felt and saw were gentle hands wiping the tears that fell to his cheeks. He locked his gaze with the smiling ghost, paying more attention to the faint silhouette at the corner of his eyes, willing it to not disappear.

But Nathan blinked, and when he turned his head, there was nothing but another smiling ghost there.

With a sigh he sat up on the bed, cold-warm hands pushing on his back till he was standing on the cold floor. Movement caught his attention, bleary eyes turning to the snow falling softly to the ground outside, a beautiful contrast to the dark sky of the night. With another sigh, he turned away and walked to the bathroom—

Something snatched his wrist, and he stumbled over his feet, almost falling on his face. He turned back around to glare at one of the phantoms, who smiled mischievously at him, pulling him back to the window. Nathan resisted, frown growing on his lips till he yanked his arm free, rushing to the bathroom and forcing himself to not look at the disappointed looks thrown at him.

His reflection had its hair covered in blood and weird runes crawling all over him, occasionally glowing yellow and turning his skin pure black. Nathan could feel a pull from behind him, something over his shoulder that called for his attention. But there was nothing there, not when he turned to look, not in the mirror.

Nathan blinked, but none of it faded. He blinked and blinked and blinked, but it didn't go away.

He forced himself to step out of the bathroom, ignoring the spectres as he crossed the room back to his bed. Something pulled at his sleeve, and he reluctantly turned to see a kid, pouting at him from a little below the height of his shoulders.

A blink, and a little girl took the place of the boy for a moment, before vanishing.

His lungs burned with a lack of air, and Nathan took a trembling breath. He smiled as best as he could, forcing his hand to pet the boy's head, "Sorry…" He mumbled, and the kid beamed at him.

Nathan felt his gaze be pulled back to the window, watching the glow from his eyes shine on the glass.

His reflection had hair as white as the snow, and the specks of dried blood matting the locks were just as dark as the dusk outside.

The snow crunched beneath her boots, and Hermione wondered how anyone could find it in themselves to be romantic with such cold weather.

Hogsmeade was alive on this valentine's day, dozens of couples walking around her as they tried to find a place that wasn't full so they could have a nice date.

A snowflake landed on her eyelash, and she gently scrubbed it off with her free gloved hand; The other being occupied by making sure Nate wouldn't run away from her.

She turned to her companion, squeezing his hand so he would look at her with his glazed eyes. He didn't, tired gaze locked on the handful of mesmerizing blue flames he had conjured effortlessly, with but a lazy flick of his hand. She held back a resentful sigh, forcing a smile on her face as they started walking alongside the other couples around them. Bitterness tried to crawl its way up her throat with every step, but Hermione forcefully held it back. Even if she'd had to drag Nate out of the castle, it was hardly his fault for his lack of energy.

Would he even want to be here if I hadn't forced him? She wondered heavily to herself, trying and failing to ignore how her companion seemed to drag his feet more and more.

They passed the bustling pub, full of couples. They passed the tea shop, horribly pink and where she knew Harry was suffering inside at that moment. They passed the empty bookstore, where Hermione forced herself to not go in.

Nate still wouldn't look at her, eyes flitting to random places for random amounts of time. Sometimes he would tilt his head to the side, like he was listening to something, and would scoff at the wind. At other moments, he would scowl and force his eyes straight ahead. He would say it was nothing when Hermione asked him about it, and it unnerved her all the more for it.

They walked until they hit the edge of the small town, Nates favourite spot, she knew, with the water fountain and the small flower shop and the cemetery a little further away. Hermione would always find him here on hogsmeade visits, either sketching the scenery or spacing out like he's prone to do more and more each day that passed them by.

"How about you buy me a flower?" She asked, forced smile becoming even more brittle when he seemed to stare through her. Hermione huffed out a misty breath when Nate didn't answer, marching them towards the establishment.

A nice little bell sounded as they entered the cozy store, her nose immediately warming up and being assaulted by the strong but pleasant smells. From the corner of her eyes Hermione saw Nate's gaze go to the ground, eyes periodically flicking up only to fall back down in an instant. Her lips twitched, but she fought the scowl as she dragged them to a random row.

It seemed to her like the whole rainbow was present in some way; Bright pinks next to deep blues and soft yellows. Her mind conjured images of Nate's drawings, much less colorful but just mesmerizing.

She was drawn to white petals, drooping and curling elegantly with a peculiar aroma. She grabbed one flower, bringing it closer to inspection, only now noticing how Nate's gaze seemed to be glued to it.

"Do you like it?" She asked, relief growing as her friend finally seemed responsive to her as he hummed in affirmation. Hermione pressed the flower to his chest, weaving it through his scarf—the scarf she had made him so long ago, that he always wore whenever he could, "For you, then."

"I thought I was the one that had to buy you flowers," Nate spoke with an amused lilt, lips twitching weirdly up and down, like he was fighting with—or against—the muscles in his cheek.

"You think a woman can't buy flowers for a man?"

"I think you asked me to buy you a flower earlier," He said with a roll of his eyes, free hand swatting at the air in front of his face, but finally smiling a little.

Hermione forced herself to ignore the weird gesture, so relieved by his small smile. "Then pick one for me!"

With a sigh, Nate brought them further in, navigating expertly through the store. He stopped in front what she knew was a soft yellow lily, picking a flower with a trembling hand, gently—oh, so gently—putting the flower between her hair and ear, beautiful eyes so close to her she could count each individual fleck of color—

"How about we pay for the flowers and go somewhere else, hm?" She said nervously, averting her gaze and dragging him by his hand to the back of the store.

Nate dropped the money for their purchase hastily on the counter, turning away from the woman working the cash register before she could even finish telling them the price of their purchase. Hermione apologized for his behaviour, before rushing after her friend.

"That was very rude of you, Nathan!" She said with a scowl and crossed arms, even when he kept looking at the snow, now falling heavily enough to obscure the view of their surroundings.

"We should go back inside, wait out the storm—" A tug at her arm had her slipping on the ice, only standing because of Nate's hold on her, even as he pulled her gently out into the cold. "What are you doing?! We'll catch a cold out here!"

They stopped near the fountain, Nate's eyes flitting about, falling at something over her shoulder, and then to the side, then to her other shoulder. Hermione followed his gaze, knowing what he was seeing, but being incapable of perceiving it.

Worry crept up her stomach, but before she could try and break his daze, Nate suddenly huffed out a dramatic tired sigh, head turning skyward. When he brought his face back down, his eyes were brighter and more focused than she had seen in a while.

"Storming?" He asked with a tilt of his head, words sounding sooo exasperated, "From where I'm standing, the sun is shining all over the place!"

She froze like an ice statue, brain taking a while to process what he had just said, so abrupt was his shift in demeanor; And when it did, Hermione hardly tried to stop her voice from coming out in an affronted shriek, "This is HARDLY the appropriate moment to quote 'singing in the rain'!"

"More perfect than this, only if it were rainin' instead of snowin'!" Nate answered in a heartbeat, the shadows around his eyes receding a bit as they crinkled with amusement. He extended his hand that wasn't already holding on to Hermione. "I only need to hold you to feel sunlight on my skin!"

With a sigh and a roll of her eyes, Hermione held his other hand, face away from his to hide the sudden warmth that passed through her. "That wasn't a line in the movie—NATHAN!"

She squealed in fright as he pulled her towards him, starting to twirl both of them around the empty park, their steps more an attempt to not fall down then an actual dance. It was a poor facsimile of that one dance they shared during the yule ball, and her chest ached in a lovely way at the thought.

"I'm singin' in the rain~," Nate croaked out through ragged breaths, looking more at their feet than at her, "C'mon Hermione, singin' in the rain~"

Hermione huffed out an incredulous laugh, breath coming out as mist "What a glorious feeling, I'm happy again~"

"That's it…" He whispered softly, smile growing and growing on his soft lips—

She turned her face to the ground, all of a sudden worried about the ice they were stepping on, but Nate brought a tender hand to her chin, delicately raising her gaze back to his own eyes glowing like stars. Hermione would've been feeling very disappointed in herself for not having a better word than that to describe such a lovely part of him, but the heat spreading from her face to the rest of her body was too distracting.

Nate hummed the melody to the rest of the song, guiding them around the small, secluded square, and when one song ended, he began another, and another, and then another, until Hermione lost track of time and her cheeks hurt from the cold and the beaming smile glued to her face.

When they finally stopped, Nathan dropped down to a dramatic bow and she responded with a giggle and a curtsy. She watched him slowly straighten back up, soft grin firmly stuck on his lips. He offered her his arm, guiding them back to the castle. His steps were strong and sure, his eyes certain on her own as they stopped shifting about, looking at her, and only her.

Nate offered his arm so he could guide them back to the castle, this time with sure and

As she hastily rubbed her tears away before they could freeze, before they could stop her from seeing the contentment radiating from her dear friend, looking more alive than he had in weeks, Hermione wondered if she could've had a better valentine's date than this one.

"It was wet…"

That was the very unfortunate sentence from Harry that broke Nathan from his comfortable daze, sitting in the armchair by the fireplace's side. It had been a long while since he'd found this amount of solace in the common room, even with Hermione's knitting sessions. To have that fleeting peace be broken by such a statement from his friend was disappointing.

"I mean, she was sort of crying," Harry amended his sentence, and Nathan opened a lazy eye to see the discomfort on his friend's face from his slouched position.

"That bad at it, Harry?" Ron said from the couch, his amusement bleeding through his words.

"I'm sure that Harry's kissing was more than satisfactory!" Hermione chimed in sternly, gaze flicking over to Nathan for but a moment.

He sat up the slightest bit straighter.

"Cho spends half her time crying these days," Hermione continued, Ron failing to stifle a giggle, fuelling her scowl. "Don't you understand how she must be feeling?!"

And Nathan did. Or at least he thought so.

He doesn't know if he's ever lost someone like the girl had, much less a romantic partner—Did I ever have one of those?—but he does understand the sudden mood swings, even when Nathan's doing everything he can to have a good day.

Sometimes—most days—it's not enough.

It doesn't stop the sudden loss that carves a hole through his chest.

Even when he has no clue what could have filled that space before.

"Just because you have the emotional range of a teaspoon,"

It was her matter of fact delivery that made Nathan bark out a laugh unprompted, Hermione breaking through his funk like she usually does.

"Sorry!" Nathan said with a sheepish grin, waving a hand apologetically and sinking further into his plush chair.

No harm was done though, as everyone started laughing softly after a moment, smiles on all of their faces. It surprised Nathan a lot, how Hermione was laughing the hardest, corner of her eyes crinkling prettily as she looked at him. And he knew not to be greedy, knew he should be content with having such a good day.

He couldn't help himself from wondering if he couldn't have made it better. Just like in the yule ball.

The trio got up from their seats, saying their goodbyes as they went up to their dorms. Hermione hugged Nathan gently, warm and lingering like the flames in the hearth, and her eyes were still creased in happiness. Harry gave a pat on the back before passing by him on the way to the stairs, soft grin remaining on his face.

Standing in the bathroom, staring at his reflection, Nathan notes the paleness of his flesh, the shadows under his eyes, and the bright smile lingering in his lips.

He blinks, and it's still there.

When he steps out into the room, the ghosts are all there, lounging around his orbit just like they had all day. Some wave at him, others touch his arms or ruffle his hair. One or two of them help him not fall over when he trips on the rug. A more mischievous wraith puts his fingers on his cheeks, forcing Nathan's grin wider, and this time he smacked the hands away from his face, just because he could.

Nathan picks up two items from his nightstand, his scarf and the moonflower, both from Hermione, and tries not to blush when he remembers the specific flower he had given her. When he looks up there's a spirit right beside him, smiling just like his incredible friend, pink bow barely discernible over the static covering her. Her eyes looked the same as when she'd gifted him the very same yellow Lily and explained its meaning to him.

He falls asleep to the scent of the flower and soft hands carding through his hair.