𝗷𝗮𝗻𝗲, harry potter

˗ˋ 28

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
✧
-: fourth year :-

── IN WHICH THEY'RE ON
THE RUN

. . .

Harry had never felt so free.

Which was slightly contradictory, because he was currently being chased by a herd of cows. 

It was a couple of days since he had sent the letters, and considering that Hedwig needed to rest before returning over what was clearly a long journey, he wasn't expecting replies until the next day or the one after. 

And so without really any thought or worry to it - there had been several times when he would have practically counted down the seconds to the time he predicted that the snowy owl would return - Harry had joined Jane in a return to their initial plans for the holidays.

Which meant long walks, the opposite direction down the river, passing through town and up onto the moors on the other side, long, sunny days of walking through fields. 

And Merlin did Harry enjoy it. There would be seconds to which the awful feeling that had been resting in the back of his mind since the night of June 24th would return, but Jane was by his side with smiles and reassuring words - even if she had no idea why a cloud would pass over the Potter boy's features at random intervals. 

She was there almost always, which was why Harry was currently running through a field, desperately clutching at each others' hands as the cows continued towards them. Neither really knew why they were being chased - they had climbed over the stile and were walking up the mark footpath when the black and white lumbering creatures began after them. 

And now, they were racing up the trodden path as fast as they could. "Come on Harry - you slow poke!" Jane laughed, somehow even managing to find light of this situation. 

There was no room for a reply, finally reaching the gate and throwing it open, slamming it behind them and letting the latch fall. "Oh thank god." Harry breathed out, chest heaving, the girl beside him laughing and swinging around still clutching his hand. 

"Come on - run just a little further." She smiled up at him, spare arm letting go of her bag strap and gesturing. "A field of long grass - you've got to run through it, just like they do in those movies."

"Yeah.. yeah okay." Harry hadn't seen too many movies at all, only seeing slips of scenes when the Dursleys accidentally left the living room door open and he could see it from his room under the stairs. Then, it seemed to register in his mind. "Wait - can I not having a minute to-"

He couldn't, and Jane was already dragging him forward, hair flying back as they cut across the field, the grass tickling their bare legs as they passed through. Although Harry didn't necessarily have the ability to breathe as easily any more, it seemed worth it. It seemed like a movie scene.

Especially when Jane came to an aburpt stop and tumbled forward, smiling as he was pulled down with her and the grass cushioned their fall. Exhilarated, wheezing to take in air properly and laughing, smiles upon their faces.

It took them a little while to recover, but in no time at all had Jane extraced a book from the pile, tapped Harry's thighs and promptly laid down with her head in his lap. Initially, the action made him stiffen up, but a few complaints from the Everleigh girl and he was relaxed, reading over Jane's shoulder as his eyes scanned the unfamiliar language. 

"'I have more care to stay than will to go: Come, death, and welcome! Juliet wills it so. How is't my soul? Let's talk, it is not day'." Jane read, gently tones perfect for reading the duologue of such beauty. She let out a sigh, finger marking her place in the book as her arm fell to her side. "Oh, to be consumed by a love so strong you would die for her. Stupid of him, but so beautiful."

"'It is an honour I dream not of'." Harry was struck by the sudden quote from the book and Jane's eyes flashed, pushing herself up onto her elbows. 

"You're learning!" She exclaimed, smile bright on her features. "You might actually go back to your school and know some Shakespeare - your friend Hermione would be impressed and-"

Harry's hand reached to his forehead impulsively, the dull pain that sat behind his scar on certain occassions suddenly returning. His green eyes slipped down to meet Jane's and quickly he pulled the hand away.

"Does it hurt?" She asked softly, almost confused. She had never heard of a scar hurting when it had long healed - and considering the way that Harry had reacted, it wasn't just a small pain. "You know, I've always found scars pretty." 

Jane pulled herself up even further, crossing her legs under her and moving so close that their knees were touching. Her own hand replaced when Harry's had been, pushing up the curling dark hair away and tracing it with her fingernail.

"You have?" Harry swallowed, feeling the tips of her ears heat up and hoping they didn't actually burn red. "Why.. what exactly do you find so.. pretty."

"Well yours' has a very definite shape." Jane began, tracing it once more. "It's a lightning bolt - reminds me of a summer storm. Which, as much as I love the sunny days, does have a certain feel to it all."

"And.." Harry swallowed, raising his bare arms and hands, that had oh-so many nicks, bruises and scars crossing all over them. Old burn marks, fresh cuts, where he had sliced his thumb on the kitchen knife a couple days before. "What about all this." 

Jane's eyes widened, as if she hadn't even noticed just how covered in marks Harry's arm was. To him they were just proof of how much he had been through, for her, they were slightly concerning, although she hopefully deemed them as just a product of rough and tumble. 

She took his palm first, tracing over the length, new scar - Pettigrew had cut his hand to add to the cauldron that eventually restored the monster that had killed his parents and tried to kill him. 

And out of her mouth came such kind words, detailing beautiful things that she was reminded of through his scars. Making Harry feel warm and fuzzy inside; nobody had ever been so nice to him. 

If he wasn't careful, he would have a whole stack of letters written to Sirius asking for advice before Hedwig could even return.

✧

a/n
thinking about harry with
a piercing or two