. . .
Harry leaned against the wall just inside the entrance to the castle waiting for Hermione to join him. It had been a hell of a fourth-year so far, and it was really just getting started. The announcement of the Tri-Wizard Tournament had given the young wizard hope that there would finally be a year when everyone’s attention was on something other than The-Boy-Who-Lived. All hopes of a quiet year had fled just as soon as Harry’s name had emerged from the Goblet of Fire.
All his so-called friends had turned their collective backs on him and ran away as if he was a troll with a bad case of body odor. Looking back, Harry knew he shouldn’t have been surprised that Ron hadn’t believed him. That didn’t make his supposedly best mate’s disbelief of him any less painful to Harry. It never failed to amaze Harry just how quickly the school’s opinion of him could change. Hero to Flubberworm droppings in the space of time it took for a scrap of parchment to float down with his name on it.
Harry could, sort of, understand the students giving him a wide berth. The Hufflepuffs wouldn’t even look at him, feeling that he had stolen some of Cedric Diggory’s glory. The Gryffindors couldn’t believe that one of their own had managed to cheat their way into the competition. It mattered very little that had the Weasley twins succeeded in their attempts they would have been hoisted in the air and declared house heroes.
The Ravenclaws were, for the most part too engrossed in their studies to care much. Still, the house known for intelligence had sided with the Puffs this time. Then again they usually sided with the Puffs, being the other house left out when Gryffindor and Slytherin went at it. The Snakes, of course, were willing to seize any chance to soil the Gryffindor name and Harry’s in particular.
Even the professors seemed to be steering clear of him. They, of course, answered any questions he might have in class, but they seemed to go out of their way to avoid him at all other times. Harry wasn’t sure if this was their choice or if the Headmaster had asked them to give him some time or something. Regardless of the cause, it felt as if everyone had abandoned him. Everyone except Hermione.
It was that very fact which saw him currently leaning against the wall awaiting his friend. In the past couple of weeks since the night Harry’s name had come out of the Goblet, Hermione had been the one thing keeping him going. The young witch had addressed the issue of the tournament just as she would have a school assignment handed out by a professor. Research, study, followed by more research and study. The young wizard couldn’t help but recall how things had gotten to this point, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as his thought drifted back to last night.
The time had been slightly late but well before curfew. Harry, with Hermione beside him, made his way from the library to the Grande Stairway. They had just finished another study session to help prepare him for the coming first task. Every night after the evening meal they would gather their things and head for the library. Harry felt slightly sorry for monopolizing Hermione's time yet at the same time he was grateful for all her help. Perhaps more than the time spent studying the wizard was thankful for her presence and belief in him. “Thank you, Hermione.”
The young witch smiled, pleased that Harry was appreciative of her assistance. “You have thanked me every night, Harry, and every night I have told you that you don’t need to thank me. I’m your friend, and I will always be there for you when you need me,” Hermione replied. Unlike Ronald, she would never abandon Harry.
“I know,” Harry said. “It's just that everyone else thinks I cheated to get into the tournament. I still sometimes think you’ll change your mind and side with everyone else,” Harry confessed. It was a lingering fear he had and no matter what he told himself his mind stubbornly refused to let go of it. Harry knew he would be truly lost without the girl beside him.
“They don’t know you as I do, Harry,” Hermione pointed out. “I know you hate your fame and want nothing to do with it. Entering yourself into this stupid tournament isn’t something you would do, Harry.” The young witch nudged Harry’s shoulder causing the boy to half step a moment before regaining his balance. “I’ve been with you since our very first train ride to Hogwarts, Harry. I know you better than anyone else. Maybe even better than you know yourself.”
Harry grinned in spite of himself as he turned to regard the witch beside him. The smile was brief though as a thought occurred to Harry. “Ron was on that train as well,” he pointed out. Harry had thought of the missing redhead as his best friend, but now he wasn’t so sure. Friends didn’t doubt you or think you were a liar. It was hard enough losing Ron, but if he had to lose Hermione too, Harry knew it would be devastating to lose them both.
“Yes, well, Ronald is an immature, jealous little git,” Hermione huffed, her face clouding darkly. To say she wasn’t happy with the missing member of their trio would be an enormous understatement. The young woman couldn’t understand how someone who had been through all that the three of them had been through together could just forget everything and turn his back on his best friend. The smart witch, after thinking about the missing Weasley, had decided that maybe Ron wasn’t the sort she wanted to be more than a passing acquaintance of if that was how he was going to be.
“Tell me how you really feel, Hermione,” Harry quipped. “No need to sugar coat it on my account,” he added with a grin.
“Well…he is,” Hermione stated determinedly as she felt her cheeks heat in embarrassment even though she knew Harry was just having a go at her. The witch was at least happy to see a grin on Harry’s face. Smiles had been rather scarce since the champions had been announced that terrible night. “Careful or I might consider you the same, Harry” Hermione teasingly threatened.
Harry would have held his hands up in surrender, but they were full of books at the moment. “I wasn’t disagreeing with you, Hermione,” Harry quickly pointed out. Harry was more grateful than he could say for all of Hermione’s help which led him to the next words that came out of his mouth. “Tomorrow is Saturday and the start of a Hogsmeade weekend. Are you going?”
Hermione shifted the books she was carrying into a slightly more comfortable position. “I was thinking of visiting Tomes and Scrolls to see if they have any books that might be useful,” Hermione admitted, “though it really depends…,” added the young witch before trailing off.
“On?” Harry prompted as they stepped onto the first set of stairs. The stairs were always in motion and one never really knew just how long it would take to get from one floor to the next.
“Are you going?” Hermione asked as the stairs began to swing to the side.
“Me?” Harry asked puzzlement wrote all over his face.
“If you’re not going then neither am I,” Hermione told him. “Things are bad enough right now, Harry. I’m not going to leave you all alone in this castle to sit and mope about while I go off and have fun.”
“You do realize that you’re probably the only one that would call spending the day digging through the stock of Tomes and Scrolls fun?”Harry asked cheekily.
“I’ll have you know I’ve seen any number of Ravenclaw’s in there,” Hermione responded with an exaggerated huff as the stairs came to a halt and the two of them made their way up to the next set. It was all the witch could do to keep the grin from her face. “You still haven’t answered my question, Harry. Are you going?”
“Well,” Harry started with as the stairs shifted, “I was hoping I could go with you, Hermione.” Seeing the surprised look on his friend’s face, Harry added, “I don’t really want to stay in the castle either. I owe you big time for everything you’ve done for me but I need a bit of fresh air I think. Starting to feel a bit claustrophobic actually.”
“You should have said something sooner, Harry,” Hermione admonished.
“No,” Harry quickly replied, fearful he might have hurt Hermione’s feelings or given her the wrong impression. “Studying with you is far too important, Hermione. I can handle all the books and scrolls for a while after all. If I have to be in this tournament, then I want to do the best I can. Besides, I knew that the Hogsmeade weekend was coming and so wanted to wait until then. I just thought we could go together so we can both get a bit of a break,” Harry added.
The truth of the matter was that he didn’t want to tell Hermione the real reason he wanted to go to Hogsmeade with her. Being the only person who apparently believed him and stuck by him meant a great deal the young wizard. While it was true that he thought they both could use the break, Harry also wanted to get something nice for Hermione. Something to show how much he appreciated her.
Hermione knew she had a habit of overdoing things at times. The young witch didn’t know how else to be when it came to the things which were important to her and Harry was most definitely important to her. Starring into the green eyes beside her, Hermione realized that she hadn’t overdone it this time at least. “All work and no play probably isn’t good, is it?”Hermione finally replied as the stairs stopped in place and the two climbed up several sets before having to wait as the stairs aligned themselves again.
From everything Hermione had read, and that was a considerable amount, the Tri-Wizard tournament was very dangerous with many of the past contestants having died while participating. Ever since their first year, Hermione’s raison d'être (1) had apparently been to keep Harry alive, and she was determined that this year she would once again succeed in that goal. If that meant spending a Hogsmeade weekend with Harry, then so be it. “Meet you at the carriages in the morning?” Hermione asked as they finally reached the top of the stairs and headed for the portrait of the Fat Lady.
Harry looked up from his musing only to see the witch in question walking toward him. Pushing off the wall, Harry went to meet her halfway. Though Hermione was dressed the same as any other Hogsmeade weekend, to Harry it seemed as though there was something different. It wasn’t a bad difference, but the young man couldn’t place just what it was. The two quickly climbed into a carriage and were on their way as no one else wanted to ride with them. “You look nice,” Harry suddenly said into the silence in the carriage.
“T..thank you, Harry,” Hermione stammered, her cheeks taking on a soft pink coloring. The young witch was unused to getting compliments. Especially from her best friend who never gave compliments. Not that Hermione expected them. She, like most girls her age, knew that boys were slow to mature and notice such things as the cosmetics she had put on that morning. “This is no different than what I’ve worn on other Hogsmeade trips we’ve made.”
“Well, “ Harry paused to swallow, finding his throat to be overly parched at the moment, “you looked good then too. I just didn’t say anything because I didn’t want Ron to get the wrong idea.” Harry had little doubt that the missing Weasley would have made a big deal of something as small as giving Hermione a compliment on her looks.
“Just Ron?” Hermione asked, sure that the tips of her ears must be on fire by now considering the concentrated heat she was feeling there. The young woman would have never of guessed that Harry, of all people, thought that she looked good. Neither of her two male friends had made any indication that they even saw her as a girl after all.
“Yeah,” Harry confirmed as he turned to look out the window. The breeze blowing in felt wonderful against his warm cheeks. Several minutes passed before he could find his voice once again. “Is there something specific you want to look for at Tomes and Scrolls,” Harry asked, and just like that the awkwardness between them disappeared. The rest of the trip to Hogsmeade passed as they discussed what books might be best.
As soon as the carriage stopped Harry climbed out and turned to offer Hermione his hand to help her down. It was apparently the correct thing to do as he was rewarded with a smile from the witch. The pair quickly set off in the direction of their goal only for Hermione to stop in her tracks. “How are we going to pay for everything?” she asked with a creased brow as she turned to look questioning at Harry.
Harry thought for a minute and then recalled something before he started to check his pockets. “Where is it,” Harry mumbled as Hermione looked on, uncertain just what the wizard was looking for. “Here it is!” Harry finally exclaimed drawing something from one of the many pockets on the inside of his robe. With an exaggerated flourish, Harry offered the item to Hermione who accepted it curiously.
Hermione looked down at the small golden key in her hand before it registered just what she held. “This is your vault key,” Hermione exclaimed, making to give it back to the boy. Whoever held the key could draw money from the vault as well as purchase items and use the key much as muggles used credit cards to pay for the purchases.
“Hang onto that, Hermione,” Harry said, raising his hands to prevent her from handing it back. “Apparently I have trouble keeping track of it. This way we don’t have to hold back and can buy whatever we need,” Harry added. If a few books Hermione wanted for herself ended up in the purchases all the better, he thought.
“But it’s your vault key!” Hermione said, making a half-hearted effort to return the key once again. Having been to see Harry’s vault she knew that it was filled with galleons, sickles, and knuts. Harry handing her his key showed Hermione just how much he trusted her.
“Hermione,” Harry said, grabbing her wrists and pushing her hands away and to her chest, “I trust you with my life. What’s a little thing like a vault key when compared to that?” As Hermione would be selecting most of the books they would be getting it only made sense to Harry that she should have the vault key to pay for them as well.
“Are you sure?” Hermione asked as Harry released her wrists. Upon seeing the wizard give a nod in the way of an answer the excited witch reached out and latched onto one of Harry’s hands and started to practically drag him down the street toward Tomes and Scrolls. “Let’s go, there’s no time to waste!”
They had been digging through the stock of Tomes and Scrolls for nearly two hours, looking for something that could help to keep Harry alive in the tournament. The search was incredibly difficult as they had no real clue just what they would need. Harry found Hermione browsing the section on Necromancy, just in case something there might help with a task she said when Harry asked.
“I need to go buy Hedwig some owl treats,” Harry said. “I’ll be back in a few minutes, okay?”
Hermione eyed Harry skeptically before recalling that unlike her, Harry didn’t find browsing old books to be much fun. The bright witch had little doubt that Harry would probably also be stopping at Spintwitches Sporting Needs to check out the latest quidditch gear as well. “Okay. Maybe a little after you get back we can go have some lunch?”
“Sure. Sounds good,” Harry replied with a giant smile before hurrying off.
“Boys and their quidditch,” Hermione said with an endearing smile once the wizard was out of hearing.
Harry quickly made his way out of the shop and down the street, passing the music store as well as the J. Pippin's Potions storefront. Crossing the now crowded thoroughfare, Harry ignored the comments of cheater and other darker labels which followed him. Quickly passing Spintwitches Sporting Needs and Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop the young wizard stopped before Flora’s Fine Seeds and Weeds.
Stepping through the door and into the store, the young wizard froze as his senses were assaulted by a wide array of colors and scents. Perhaps equally debilitating was that every eye in the place turned and looked at him. The fact that they were all girls made it even worse for the wizard who was having second thoughts about his current course of action. No, this is for Hermione, Harry reminded himself forcibly.
“A bit overwhelming, isn’t it?” asked an aged voice from Harry’s right. Turning his head slightly Harry beheld a woman who made the likes of Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall appear to be young. “First time here?” the woman asked. Harry could do little more than nod. “What’s the occasion?”
“M..my friend,” Harry finally managed to stammer as his brain reengaged itself. “She’s been very helpful, and I wanted to get her some flowers to show that I appreciate her. Thank you…?”
“Agnes,” the woman replied. “Agnes Blooming. I own this shop.”
“Not Flora?” Harry asked without thinking.
“Goodness gracious no!” Agnes said with a chuckle. “Flora is the Roman Goddess of Flowers and of Spring, young man. Don’t they teach the young any of the ancient ways these days?” Agnes asked only to see Harry shake his head. “In my day we had to learn it all. Hogwarts was different then. More students and Professors, but that’s not why your here is it, young man?” she asked only to see Harry shake his head again.
“Do you know what she likes?” the matronly woman asked as she took Harry by the arm and led him further into the shop. Seeing Harry shake his head yet again she continued, “Pitty. At least your making an effort to do something nice for her. Most boys your age wouldn’t think anything of it and just assume that this…this…,” the woman paused and looked at Harry.
“Hermione,” Harry offered after a few moments as he reasoned out what she wanted from him.
“Hermione,” Agnes said as if rolling the name around her teeth to get a feel for it. “That’s a good name. Strong, with a hint of steel and a loyal streak a mile wide. You be sure to treat her proper like,” Agnes added while wagging a finger at Harry.
“Yes, Ma`am,” Harry replied. “I doubt I would be here if it weren’t for Hermione. She’s my best friend, and I owe her everything as she has helped me out several times since we started school.” With everything that had happened to Harry since coming to Hogwarts, Hermione was the most significant factor in him actually being alive and in one piece. Harry had little doubt that he couldn’t have made it through everything without her.
Agnes nodded several times as if agreeing with Harry words. The old witch was glad to see that there were at least some wizards who knew how to appreciate a witch and the help she could give if given half a chance. “How much are you looking to spend on your friend?” the store proprietor asked, getting back to business.
Harry’s face fell as he realized that he had given his vault key to Hermione. Rummaging in his pockets for coins he pulled out everything he had and held it out to Agnes. “What can I get for this?” he asked in a pitiful tone.
“A big spender I see,” Agnes quipped looking at the lone galleon, ten sickles and a smattering of knuts in the wizard's hand. “It’s the thought that counts I guess,” she mumbled to herself as she started to collect various flowers. Purple violets, angel’s breath and an assortment of bluebells made their way into the bouquet of flowers. The musical notes of the bluebells tinkled gently as they were laid on the counter. “I think that should do it,” Agnes stated, having added several more flowers to the arrangement than Harry’s meager sum could afford.
“Thank you, Ma`am!” Harry exclaimed, marveling at the beautiful arrangement of flowers. The young wizard hoped that Hermione would like it. Without taking his eyes off the floral arrangement, Harry handed over all his coins.
“You be sure to come back and tell me what your Hermione thought of it,” Agnes said, passing a few knuts back to Harry so that the boy wouldn’t be knutless.
“Yes, Ma`am!” Harry beamed before rushing to the door so he could give the flowers to Hermione. Harry opened the door and stepped out just as a group of Slytherins were passing. A spell flew out from the group and blasted the flowers to pieces. Harry stood there and looked down in disbelief at the petals and broken bluebells that littered the ground at his feet as jeers and laughter rang out from the group of students who continued on their way.
Agnes came up and laid a small hand on Harry’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, lad. I’m sure Hermione would have loved the flowers you went to the trouble of getting for her.” Agnes hated bullying, having dealt with it when she was in school. Many saw it as a right of passage. Usually, those who had never been bullied.
Harry, feeling the hand come to rest on his shoulder turned and regarded the aged witch for a long moment. One shaky hand rose and opened, revealing the knuts that Agness had returned to him earlier. “What can I get for these?”
Hermione looked up to see a very different Harry than the one that had left her side a while ago. Gone was the smile he’d worn when he’d run off. The concerned witch instantly knew something was wrong. Harry’s shoulders sagged, and he was staring at the ground refusing to meet her eyes. “What happened, Harry?” Hermione asked and then waited. Where Hermione knew she could bagger information out of Ron, Harry was completely different for the most part. Push him, and he would just raise the drawbridge and man the battlements becoming silent in the process. No, with Harry Hermione knew she just had to wait him out, and he would eventually tell her…most of the time.
“It was nothing,” Harry mumbled in an attempt to get out of telling her what transpired earlier. Seeing Hermione not only cross her arms over her chest but also completely ignore the shelves of books told Harry that he wasn’t going to get off that easy. With a resigned sigh, the wizard told her what happened, stating that he would get her something else.
“Harry, that is incredibly thoughtful of you,” Hermione said, feeling her ears begin to burn once again. “No one has ever given me flowers before. Not even my parents!” Seeing Harry’s shoulders droop even further told her that she wasn’t helping matters and was only making him feel worse. “You don’t need to get me anything, Harry. Really. Just the thought of you doing that makes me really happy. Thank you for being so thoughtful.”
Harry’s head came up, and his emerald eyes found her. “I really wanted to get you something as you’ve been brilliant with me. When it feels like the entire world is against you, Hermione, you have no idea just how much it means to have one person, just one single person, believe in you,” Harry exclaimed in a rush. “I know you probably think me mental but you being here with me means more than you’ll ever know to me. You…you mean the world to me, Hermione. I’d be lost without you.”
“H…Harry,” Hermione began to say, her throat choked full of emotions prevented her from speaking further.
“I…I know it isn’t much,” Harry continued with apparently not having heard Hermione say anything or just too nervous to stop now that he had started. “As I said, I wanted to get you something to say thank you and show just how much I appreciated you. After the flowers, I didn’t have much left as you had my vault key,” Harry said, a small, lopsided smile making an appearance. “I hope you like it,” Harry added as he pulled something from behind his back and presented it to Hermione.
The stalk was a thick green with a silky texture. The center of the flower was large, nearly as large as Hermione’s hand with her fingers spread. The dark brown center was haloed with bright yellow petals. “It’s a sunflower,” Hermione said, her face breaking into a wide smile as her emotions got the better of her and tears trickled down her cheeks.
“If you don’t like it you can throw it away!” Harry exclaimed in panic at seeing Hermione crying.
“No. No,” Hermione replied with a quick shake of her head. “It’s perfect, Harry. How did you know?” she asked only to see a bewildered look on Harry’s face. “Sunflowers are my favorite flowers. I can’t help but smile when I see one as they remind me of a big happy face for some reason. They always make me happy. I know it’s silly and all that but there it is.”
“Your secret is safe with me,” Harry quipped, feeling better about the day. The fact that Hermione was smiling through her tears helped as well. “I know it is a bit earlier than we had planned but want to go get something to eat?”
“Sure,” Hermione replied with a sniffle as she hastily dabbed at her eyes. “Give me a hand carry these up to the counter,” she instructed, pointing towards a stack of books on the floor.
Once the books were paid for and safely packed away in Hermione’s beaded bag, the couple made their way to the Three Broomsticks and had a quiet meal doing their best to ignore the angry looks, and derogatory comments sent Harry’s way. Every so often Hermione would touch her sunflower, and a large smile would appear on her face. When they finished their meal, they went to Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop so Hermione could buy some new quills as she had a habit of wearing her’s down rather quickly.
Stepping from Honeydukes, a bar of chocolate safely hidden away in her beaded bag, the young witch paused to admire her sunflower once again before turning toward Harry. “Rather than riding the carriage do you fancy walking back?” she asked. Receiving confirmation from Harry they set out toward the school in the distance. They discussed the history of the tournament and what had been some of the tasks in the previous tournaments and how they had been passed. As the duo started up the rise toward the castle, they fell into silence as they climbed, questioning their decision to not ride in a carriage.
Hermione’s thoughts about the upcoming first task were interrupted as she realized that Harry was looking at her. Turning to look his way quickly saw him looking away and at the ground near his feet. She would have thought nothing of it except that this was the third time that she had caught her best friend staring at her. As Hermione was now watching for it, she saw Harry turn her way out the corner of her eye. Harry opened his mouth to speak and then thought better of it and returned to watching the ground instead.
“We’re almost back to the castle, Harry,” Hermione finally said having had enough of it. It was obvious to her that Harry had something on his mind and was having trouble broaching the subject with her. “If you’ve got something to say now would probably be a good time.”
Harry seemed to think for a moment before he replied with, “It’s nothing.” The young man hadn’t realized he was being so obvious and had been found out. Now, faced with actually having to voice his thought, Harry found that he wasn’t the Gryffindor he thought he was.
“If it’s nothing then you can tell me,” Hermione pointed out. “You’ve tried three times now and haven’t been able to.” Hermione’s mind started to wonder just what she had done that Harry felt he couldn’t tell her. Harry had just said how much he appreciated her help, so she wasn’t fearful that he was going to ask her to give him a break from all the research and studying.
“Really, it’s nothing,” Harry insisted without looking up.
“What?” Hermione said coming to a stop and causing Harry to do the same due to her actions. “I thought we could tell each other anything? Talk to me, Harry. I can’t fix whatever it is if I don’t know what it is.”
“We can,” Harry confirmed quickly. “talk about anything. It’s nothing. Just a thought I had. Forget it.”
Hermione gave an exasperated sigh and once again crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m not moving from this spot till you tell me.” Usually, she would just wait Harry out, but she had a feeling that were she to do that this time he would just forget about it and never tell her. Managing Harry was all about knowing when to wait and when to push.
“Come on Hermione,” Harry said taking one of her hands and trying to pull her toward the castle only to have the witch refuse to budge. “It’s stupid, and you’ll just laugh.”
“I won’t laugh, Harry,” Hermione told him. “I promise!”
“You realize having said that now it is almost a guarantee that you will laugh,” Harry pointed out with a small, lopsided grin. The more he thought about it, the less he wanted to tell her what had crossed his mind.
Hermione shook her head. “I won’t laugh.”
“It’s really corny,” Harry reiterated.
“Harry James Potter!” Hermione exclaimed. “Now you just have to tell me!
Harry sighed heavily. “Promise you won’t laugh?” he finally asked, realizing there would be no getting out of it now. Once Hermione had her mind made up there was really very little anyone could do about it. That was something he had discovered in first-year, and it showed no sign of changing anytime soon.
“I promise, Harry,” Hermione assured him once again.
The nervous wizard looked about as if to make sure no one was around. “I…I think you might be….” Harry said only to mumble the ending to the point where Hermione not only couldn’t make it out but couldn’t hear him either. The wizard’s eyes were firmly fixated on his shoes by the end of whatever he had said.
Hermione's brows creased in confusion. “You think I might be what?” she asked. “I didn’t hear that last part.”
Harry’s head came up, and he regarded her in disbelief. “You’re really going to make me say it again, Hermione?” Harry asked, green eyes pleading that she wouldn’t make him do it.
“I didn’t hear it the first time, Harry,” Hermione replied, closing the distance between them somewhat to hear him better. “What do you think I am?”
For a long moment, the young wizard stared at the witch before him. “I think…,” Harry started with, feeling his cheeks heat in embarrassment for what he was about to say. “I think you might be my sunflower.”
Hermione blinked. Then blinked again. Of all the things she could have guessed that Harry would say, never in a hundred years would she have guessed that she was his sunflower. Worse yet Hermione realized that she didn’t know how to respond to his confession. What did it even mean after all? For the first time in her life, Hermione Granger was at a loss for words and didn’t know what to do.
“See! I told you it was stupid!” Harry suddenly exclaimed, turning and making his way toward the castle. “Just forget I said anything,” he tossed back over his shoulder.
“Harry, wait!” Hermione said, but the wizard was having none of it. “Harry, please!” she pleaded. The anguish in her voice finally getting through to the wizard and bringing him to an abrupt halt in his tracks. “I’m sorry, but no one has ever said anything like that to me before,” Hermione said as she made her way toward Harry, closing the distance between them quickly.
“Can we just pretend that I never said anything?” Harry asked in a pleading tone without turning to face her.
“I can’t do that, Harry,” Hermione replied as she reached the wizard and taking his hand in her’s, turned him around to face her. “That was without a doubt the sweetest thing I have ever heard, Harry. If I live to be two-hundred years old I’ll never forget it,” she told him. “You can’t just say something like that to a girl and then expect her to forget it, Harry.”
“Duly noted,” Harry said softly, his eyes remaining fastened on the ground between them. “Have I…have I bollocked everything up between us?”
“I don’t know,” Hermione replied in a soft voice. “I think I might like being your sunflower, Harry,” said the witch, giving the hand in her’s a small squeeze.
“Really?” Harry asked in disbelief as his head rose till his eyes met the soft brown ones before him.
Hermione had no clue what Harry meant by sunflower, but the thrill she had felt when Harry had confessed was something that she decided she wanted to take the time to explore. Hermione shifted her hand till she could entwine her fingers with Harry’s. “Really,” was all she said as she started them walking toward the castle once more and whatever their future might hold for them.
1 raison d'être – reason for living
Just a little something that popped up in my head yesterday. The fic was inspired slightly by the song Sunflower by Post Malone & Swae Lee for the motion picture soundtrack “Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse.” I hope you’ve enjoyed it. Leave me a review with your thoughts on it and where they might go from here.
As always, your reviews are not required, but they are greatly appreciated.
All characters within this story, unless otherwise stated are the sole property of J. K. Rowling the original writer of the Harry Potter series.
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