𝗷𝗮𝗻𝗲, harry potter

˗ˋ 13

CHAPTER THIRTEEN
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-: fourth year :-

── IN WHICH SHE READS

. . .

Harry and Jane had been sat in the sun for a couple of hours, deciding to stay there for the rest of the day. Originally, it started with them choosing to stay there until their clothes dried off a bit - the pool was basked in the sunlight and quite frankly a perfect place for them to do so.

But when they had dried off, neither of them really acknowledged it, comfortable in the positions that they had found themselves sitting in.

Hours later, lunch eaten and picnic blanket now tucked under them, Jane had her head balanced on Harry's knee, stretched out across the rock with her skirt fanned out around her legs. Above her head, Jane was holding her rather beaten-up copy of Pride and Prejudice, deciding that it was be easier to read a book written in fully prose, rather than a mixture of prose and verse like in Romeo and Juliet.

Whilst the Everleigh girl was relaxed, her soft voice dancing across the pool of water beside them, Harry was inbetween sitting bolt upright and the same state as Jane. He had his arm reaching out behind him, holding up, but his legs were rather tense. His spare hand, however, seemed to a life of it's own as it played with the loose hair at the end of the long plait that he had managed to have done rather neatly in her hair.

"Relax your legs, it's like I'm leaning on the bloody rock." Jane stopped her reading for a moment, letting go of the side of the book with one arm, reaching back and tapping Harry's thigh. "If you're not comfortable with me sitting here then I can move."

"No, you're fine." The Potter boy replied absentmindedly. Harry didn't look up from where he was watching a bird fly rather close to the waterfall, haphazardly dodging closer to the gushing water and away. Jane tilted her head back just a tiny bit, seeing his gaze diverted to the water and smiled, glad to see the boy looking so content. His fingers remained in the ginger curls that had dried freely, twisting and turning.

Harry's own hair was still long, dark strands turning upwards around his neck, threatening to get longer each time his Aunt Petunia threatened to cut it all off. It was rather thick and almost seemed to burn in the sun. The feeling reminded him of how Ron's hair had gleamed blonde in certain lights after returning from Egypt a couple years before.

Clearing her throat, Jane returned to her previous position, holding the book above her head. "'Come, Darcy,'  said he, 'I must have you dance. I hate to see you standing about by yourself in this stupid manner. You had much better dance.'" Her voice was soft as she spoke, and whenn she came to the end of the sentence she suddenly moved, Harry forcing his gaze away from the bird and down to her, seeing her turning onto her stomach, sliding the bookmark onto the page and balancing her chin on her elbows.

"Can you dance, Harry?" She asked, eyes gleaming in the sunlight - but not only because of it, somehow filled with the images of balls and ruffled ball gowns swirling around legs as their partners turned them, feet dancing below them.

"Sort of." Harry grinned, tilting his head upwards as he thought back to Christmas time and the Yule Ball. "At my school we had a sort of one-off event on Christmas Eve. These other boarding schools joined in as well, and it was a Christmas ball. We had to learn to dance for that, but I can't say I was very good at it."

"And your school becomes even more the mystery." Jane sighed, meeting his eyes and his chin pointed down towards her once more. "How can it seem so prestigious and fitting for these things yet not teach basic Shakespeare."

"I would love to see some of my classmates try Shakespeare. Hermione would love it of course, Ron would get her to translate every word. Dean probably knows some and nobody would be able to understand Seamus as he tried to read it aloud." Harry seemed happier than ever as he talked about his school friends, and the smile on his face reflected on Jane's, the Everleigh girl happy to hear more about his strange school. "Can you?" He asked.

"Me? Well.. sort of. I had some classes ages ago and Flora tried to convince me to dance with the painter in the drawing room after she pulled the dust sheet off of the piano." Jane mused, sitting upwards and pulling her legs under her, a sort of excitement on her features. "Oh Harry, you should see this piano. It's just incredible and although it was a little out of tune Flora fixed it right away."

"You said you live up in the old manor? I don't think I've been there but my Aunt Petunia told me it was really run down." Harry commented.

"Well.. it's better than it was. Flora seems to get so much done in a day it's unbelievable, and she's always busy. There's Angela who helped with the kitchen, the painter, the gardener, the plumber - all the usual stuff. But they seem to have so much done." Jane shrugged, sitting up even more. "But this piano Harry - it's just so incredible. I've never seen anything like it."

"It sounds amazing. Do you play?" He asked, instantly getting a negative reply. "But Flora can?"

"Yeah, she said she would teach me!" Jane seemed to exude excitement as she did so, a dopey sort of smile on her face. "But she says that we have to sort everything out first.. I've agreed to help with a few things tomorrow, so I might be late." The smile had fallen, and Jane chewed on her bottom lip, looking worried. "You could come and help, I suppose? If that's alright with you."

"Yeah of course." Harry had heard so much about this Flora woman, and from Jane's description, he held a growing intrigue. "Would it be alright if I come though?"

"It'll be fine." Jane grinned. "But just in case I can ask, and if you go to the tree tomorrow morning I'll wake up early and leave a letter about whether you can or not."

"Perfect." Harry replied, smiling. "Anything to pass the days."

He had his suspicions, but perhaps meeting Flora would confirm or deny them.

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