𝗷𝗮𝗻𝗲, harry potter

˗ˋ 37

CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN
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-: fourth year :-

── IN WHICH A HILL IS 
REACHED

. . .

"Come on Harry." Jane tugged at his hand, the now familiar phrase echoing in his ears. He let himself be pulled up the incline a little further, revelling in the sight of Jane smiling.

Harry had waited outside the house, finding a refuge from the steady outflux of guests leaving by sitting on the steps up by the front door, mulling over Jane's actions. She seemed upset by something, and clearly didn't want to talk about it. 

She almost seemed panicked, and it was that which worried Harry the most. Of course, he didn't like that she was upset, but nothing seemed to worry her. She had never seemed panicked about anything, constantly calm. Maybe she had been and Harry just missed it, brain subconciously steering towards the best in her. 

He wanted to help her with whatever it was, which is why he didn't question anything when she returned with a material bag with several bulky objects inside and one of the decorative lamps that had been used and actually made a pretty good light source. 

Harry, and this might have become one of his bigger flaws, had followed her blindly, making small talk as they walked. He let her lead him down the driveway, but instead of going down the road which would take them back to the village, she had diverted them onto another course which instead led them down a small path and out into the fields. 

"I'm sorry to drag you out like this." Jane hadn't been saying much as she took Harry's hand, whatever was in the bag banging against her hip without so much of a wince from her. This was her longest reply yet, and Harry revelled in it. "I just.. I'm not feeling so good.. suddenly."

"Why not?" Harry asked, filled with genuine concern. They reached the top of the hill that the Everleigh girl had pulled him to, and the journey to get there hadn't been particularly long and only consisted really of crossing a couple of fields and climbing over the fences that seperated them. It was so short, in fact, that when Harry looked back to where they had come from, the Adley manor was still very much visible even in the darkness, emitting a soft glow into the night sky. 

Jane didn't reply straight away, knees folding down to sit her in the rather soft grass, the stems brushing against the crumpled material of her dress. Harry sat beside her, not saying anything as she pulled out an already opened bottle of champagne out of her bag, the cork sealing it out stuck out at an awkward angle. He did, however, seemed to get the gist of why he had been brought here when he saw the miniature telescope extracted from the bag - most likely stargazing, and something nervous jumped in his heart. 

The lamp had been placed down some distance away from them, but Harry could see some tiny initials enscribed into the metal eyepiece - 'A.D'. He glanced up to ask her who it had belonged to, only for the amber lustre to cause the tears beading in the corners of her eyes to glisten sickeningly at him. 

He had never been so afraid of anything in his life. And he had seen the man who had killed his parents - killed Cedric - return that summer. He had had his soul sucked out by Dementors, travelled back in time, be faced by a Basilisk. But somehow, the idea of Jane crying - Jane, the pretty girl who had made his summer nothing short of incredble, who had always made him smile and come to treasure the grin that came over her features whenever she saw him for the first time in the day - scared him even more. 

"It's stupid, really." Jane had seen the change in expression on his face and knew there was no point in hiding them. She sniffed, hurrying to wipe them away before they fell. "If anything, I should be happy about it.. but.." 

Her voice died, a fresh tear replacing the smear of saltiness swept under her eye. 

Harry had, to his knowledge, never initiated a hug in his life. He had been hugged, by Jane, Ron, Hermione, Sirius, Mrs Weasley, even Hagrid who had almost squished him. But never had he hugged someone, never been really that comfortable with physical affection. Even when Flora had gently tapped his chin earlier that day as she sent him off after the Everleigh girl, there was something underlying that he wasn't used to. He still got a rather funny feeling when Mrs Weasley hugged him before sliding a home-cooked, wasn't as comfortable as Ron had been when Fleur congratulated them with kisses on each cheek. 

He hadn't had a chance to think about it with each passing affection from the girl in front of him, and he found himself wondering if she had ever noticed the difference between the two. How she was almost always the first to initiate things, how he had rarely ever taken her hand first, or how his cheeks had burned when she was piercing his ear. 

But now, when the second tear fell moments after the first and her grip on the material strap of her bag loosened, Harry barely thought as he closed the small distance over the grass, arms wrapping around her waist and pulling her closer.

Her head balanced on her shoulder, hands clutching at his shirt and most definitely creating just a small damp patch, shoulders shaking. The position adjusted just slightly and in the light of the lamp, Harry's eyes landed on the envelope in her bag.

He could just make out that it was addressed to her, the word 'confidential' inked in red underneath. It was clear that it had something to do with that, and whether Jane would tell him, it was up to her. 

But for now, all Harry could do was let his hand run carefully up and down her back, every so often letting his fingertips glide over the bare skin created from the design that came from the dress. 

He just hoped it wasn't too serious.

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