The six teens were out on the grounds practicing defensive
spells. They were training near the burned ruins of Hagrid’s hut.
An open Defense Against the Dark Arts text book was propped up on
the paddock fence. Every now and again one would run over to
check an incantation or wand position.
Harry stepped out of the group, presumably to gauge the others’
progress. After making a few suggestions, he strolled backwards
to get a better look.
The others were so concentrated on their duels they didn’t notice
his withdrawal.
He was standing under the tree by the lake when she turned
around. She blinked at the distance he had put between them and
quietly excused herself from Neville.
She made her way steadily toward the lake.
He heard footfalls and turned to ward off his intruder with a
glare. His eyes met hers. His glare softened instinctively but
didn’t turn inviting. She just looked serenely back at him.
Neither flinched from the strength of their locked gaze. Neither
turned away. She continued to make her way to him; he stood and
watched her approach.
She stopped at his side beneath the tree. They both turned to
stare out over the tranquil lake. She broke the silence between
them.
“We’re starting to look really good.”
“Everyone’s improving,” he agreed.
“You’re a good teacher.”
He didn’t respond, just stared out at the wind rippling the
surface of the lake. After some time passed in silence, he
quietly spoke.
“When the time comes, I want to go after him alone.”
She stared at him for a moment, her expression hard.
“Don’t be an idiot.”
“I’m not—“
“Of course you’re not going to fight him alone.”
Their shouts were carried by the wind over the grounds.
Ron stopped on the stairs leading up to the castle causing the
others to stop and look at what had him transfixed. They all
stood a moment and watched the pair fight.
It was an imposing sight. Harry towered over her, but she refused
to back down. Even stood on tip-toe at one point to get right in
his face.
Neville nudged Ron’s shoulder and asked, “What do you reckon hers
are made out of: bronze or steel?”
Ron turned away then and laughed as he started back to the
entrance hall. “Definitely steel on that one. Better him than me
at any rate.”
Both girls rolled their eyes at the analogy. “Boys,” they
muttered together as they entered the castle.
Harry pulled the ends of his hair in frustration.
“Did you really think I’d agree to this,” she asked with a
skeptical arch to her brow.
They were arguing in circles. He wished he could make her see
what this was doing to him. He had to go alone.
“Please,” he pleaded. “I won’t be able to do anything if I think
you’re in danger. This is about me and him!”
“You’re being ridiculous.”
“Ridiculous, am I? You’re being unreasonable.”
“You don’t think that’s slightly hypocritical of you at the
moment?”
He made a derisive snort and stalked to the shore of the lake.
“How can I let you just walk into the pit of Hell, Harry? How can
you expect me to give you my blessing,” she asked in a whisper as
she stood at his side.
“This has nothing to do with you.” He turned to her, sought her
eyes with his own. “This isn’t your fight.”
“How can you say that!?”
“I can’t let you get hurt because some lunatic is out for my
blood! It would kill me if I had to watch you fall at his hands
too!”
“What do you think it would do to me if you got hurt?! If you
think I wouldn’t go spare with worry over you…To think you were
hurt somewhere, bleeding...or worse...and I couldn’t get to you?
What do you think that would do to me?”
Her eyes brimming with unshed tears, she turned away from him
stubbornly and headed back to the tree.
He decided it didn’t matter if she had a point, if she had hit
some nerve inside of him that made him want to reach out to her.
He had to convince her he was right, it was for her own good.
He trailed her a few steps glancing around wildly as if the trees
would provide an argument she couldn’t refute.
“There’s something bigger than either of us at work here. I have
a job to do. I’ll be more likely to get hurt if I’m distracted in
a battle.” He spoke quietly chancing a glance at her back.
“I won’t let you go alone.” Her voice was so soft he had to
strain to hear it.
“Then how about a head start, at least,” he cried in
desperation.
She spun around, her hand flying out of nowhere. With a
resounding smack, she slapped him.
He stepped back in shock, his eyes tearing. In the moment of
silence that followed, he tenderly grazed his fingertips to his
burning cheek.
Then, just as suddenly, she threw her arms around him and hugged
him tightly to her.
“Promise me you won’t leave. Promise me you won’t run off in the
middle of the night. Promise me,” she whispered, pleadingly into
his ear.
He floundered for a moment, but tightened his hold on her when he
felt her hot tears on his neck.
“I promise.”
spells. They were training near the burned ruins of Hagrid’s hut.
An open Defense Against the Dark Arts text book was propped up on
the paddock fence. Every now and again one would run over to
check an incantation or wand position.
Harry stepped out of the group, presumably to gauge the others’
progress. After making a few suggestions, he strolled backwards
to get a better look.
The others were so concentrated on their duels they didn’t notice
his withdrawal.
He was standing under the tree by the lake when she turned
around. She blinked at the distance he had put between them and
quietly excused herself from Neville.
She made her way steadily toward the lake.
He heard footfalls and turned to ward off his intruder with a
glare. His eyes met hers. His glare softened instinctively but
didn’t turn inviting. She just looked serenely back at him.
Neither flinched from the strength of their locked gaze. Neither
turned away. She continued to make her way to him; he stood and
watched her approach.
She stopped at his side beneath the tree. They both turned to
stare out over the tranquil lake. She broke the silence between
them.
“We’re starting to look really good.”
“Everyone’s improving,” he agreed.
“You’re a good teacher.”
He didn’t respond, just stared out at the wind rippling the
surface of the lake. After some time passed in silence, he
quietly spoke.
“When the time comes, I want to go after him alone.”
She stared at him for a moment, her expression hard.
“Don’t be an idiot.”
“I’m not—“
“Of course you’re not going to fight him alone.”
Their shouts were carried by the wind over the grounds.
Ron stopped on the stairs leading up to the castle causing the
others to stop and look at what had him transfixed. They all
stood a moment and watched the pair fight.
It was an imposing sight. Harry towered over her, but she refused
to back down. Even stood on tip-toe at one point to get right in
his face.
Neville nudged Ron’s shoulder and asked, “What do you reckon hers
are made out of: bronze or steel?”
Ron turned away then and laughed as he started back to the
entrance hall. “Definitely steel on that one. Better him than me
at any rate.”
Both girls rolled their eyes at the analogy. “Boys,” they
muttered together as they entered the castle.
Harry pulled the ends of his hair in frustration.
“Did you really think I’d agree to this,” she asked with a
skeptical arch to her brow.
They were arguing in circles. He wished he could make her see
what this was doing to him. He had to go alone.
“Please,” he pleaded. “I won’t be able to do anything if I think
you’re in danger. This is about me and him!”
“You’re being ridiculous.”
“Ridiculous, am I? You’re being unreasonable.”
“You don’t think that’s slightly hypocritical of you at the
moment?”
He made a derisive snort and stalked to the shore of the lake.
“How can I let you just walk into the pit of Hell, Harry? How can
you expect me to give you my blessing,” she asked in a whisper as
she stood at his side.
“This has nothing to do with you.” He turned to her, sought her
eyes with his own. “This isn’t your fight.”
“How can you say that!?”
“I can’t let you get hurt because some lunatic is out for my
blood! It would kill me if I had to watch you fall at his hands
too!”
“What do you think it would do to me if you got hurt?! If you
think I wouldn’t go spare with worry over you…To think you were
hurt somewhere, bleeding...or worse...and I couldn’t get to you?
What do you think that would do to me?”
Her eyes brimming with unshed tears, she turned away from him
stubbornly and headed back to the tree.
He decided it didn’t matter if she had a point, if she had hit
some nerve inside of him that made him want to reach out to her.
He had to convince her he was right, it was for her own good.
He trailed her a few steps glancing around wildly as if the trees
would provide an argument she couldn’t refute.
“There’s something bigger than either of us at work here. I have
a job to do. I’ll be more likely to get hurt if I’m distracted in
a battle.” He spoke quietly chancing a glance at her back.
“I won’t let you go alone.” Her voice was so soft he had to
strain to hear it.
“Then how about a head start, at least,” he cried in
desperation.
She spun around, her hand flying out of nowhere. With a
resounding smack, she slapped him.
He stepped back in shock, his eyes tearing. In the moment of
silence that followed, he tenderly grazed his fingertips to his
burning cheek.
Then, just as suddenly, she threw her arms around him and hugged
him tightly to her.
“Promise me you won’t leave. Promise me you won’t run off in the
middle of the night. Promise me,” she whispered, pleadingly into
his ear.
He floundered for a moment, but tightened his hold on her when he
felt her hot tears on his neck.
“I promise.”
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