𝗷𝗮𝗻𝗲, harry potter

˗ˋ 48

CHAPTER FORTY EIGHT
✧
-: fourth year :-

── IN WHICH THEY RELAX

. . .

It was pretty, Harry knew that for sure.

He had never been so glad that a bridge hadn't been teared down; even if it was a part of an old, possibly dangerous train tracks.

Despite Jane overhearing that the singular remaining bridge was the newest of the lot, it was quite clearly quite old and abandoned all the same. Beneath it, a field of soft grass had grown over the rocky path, the stone was covered in moss and a little damp, and ivy had sprouted over the archway and draped over the entrance - not far enough to cover it, but provide Jane with something to marvel at as she passed through, head tilting backwards as she walked under it.

"It seems so.. magical." Jane exhaled, eyes landing on the other side of the bridge and hearing the stream continue there - it seemed to have wrapped round, dipped down under the hill that created the small valley that the bridge covered.

Harry's head jerked towards her in a sudden panic. His gaze returned to the grassy banks and tried to calm himself down - there was no way that he was that paranoid about her knowing about magic, she was bound to find out soon, given that at the very least she was considering the adoption from Flora, but for now it seemed to put him on edge.

"There's even mushrooms." He peered over a small patch, crouching down and admiring them.

"It seems quite damp here... I'm pretty sure this spot doesn't get any sun either." Jane appeared by his side, following his gaze. "Perfect conditions! Come on now - sit down." She had a smile on her face as their hands connected once again and she dragged him over to one edge of the bridge.

Minutes later, with a little confusion on Harry's behalf, the two teens were sat opposite each other, Jane's voice echoing over to him as she read even more of Romeo and Juliet - she had decided that they needed to finish at least one book at some point and they couldn't just keep starting new ones, and which better book to finish than the Shakespearean tragedy?

They hadn't gotten particularly far since the last time they read together, but Harry's gaze wasn't on the girl across of him as it usually would be. Instead, it was moving between two things; one of course being the ground below him, in hopes of finding a clover.

"'Farewell! I will omit no opportunity that may convey my greetings, love, to thee'." Jane read, and Harry peeked over, a smile on his face when he saw the gentle expression. "'Oh think'st though we shall ever meet again?'"

An idea sparked in Harry's mind, reaching for his bag and quietly unzipping it.

"'I doubt it not, and all these woes shall serve, for sweet discourses in our time to come.'" Jane let out a sigh, finger fiddling with the corner of the page. It was almost how they would end up, really.

Harry, had he been concentrating, would have let his mind follow in the same path as the Everleigh girl's had taken; wandering over the idea of them being seperated, might have felt a little more dread.

But instead, his focus was on his lap.

An old notebook sat there, one full of blank pages with a texture almost like parchment. Flora had slipped it his way during one of the room clean-outs - it had an engraving of a phoenix on the leather cover. He was using a muggle pen this time, eyes flickering from Jane and back down.

He had always liked to draw. In fact, he remembered the first big punishment he recieved from the Dursleys was because he had drawn on the wall. Since then, he never really did it unless in something of his own; the margins of school books, corners of parchment and bottoms of pages of his school books.

Harry had dormed with Dean Thomas for four years for now, and considering the artistic skills of the half-blood, the Potter boy had picked up a couple of tips and tricks.

He had always wanted to draw someone - he just hadn't realised that his muse was right in front of him.

And was now staring at him, curiosity in her eyes.

"What on earth are you doing?" Jane slipped the bookmark between the pages and was on her feet in an instance, Harry quickly shut the notebook and clutched it to his chest, just as she crouched behind him. "You won't show me?"

"And nothing can convince me to." Harry looked up at her, chin tilted up in playful defiance. "It's a surprise. I'm drawing."

"Well that was obvious." Jane frowned, before letting a smile break across her cheeks. "You're lucky I like surprises.. at least give me some paper so I can draw as well?"

Harry smiled, shaking his head as he shielded the pages from Jane's view, ripping out a sheet without fault and handing her one of his pens, watching as she sat down, Romeo and Juliet discarded once again.

"Smile." She called, voice sweet and eyes glinting as she glanced up at him.

"Are you drawing me?" Harry's eyes widened, blush tinting his cheeks. It was one thing drawing someone when they were reading - it was completely another when they were drawing you as well.

"Perhaps." Jane glanced down at her paper before looking back at him. "It's a surprise.. for tomorrow. So I won't leave you in the dark for too long."

Harry shook his head, already laughing.

It was the first time in a while that he could actually remember being happy for his birthday.

✧

a/n
not only do i think
jkr (ew) didnt expand on harrys
trauma enough she didnt
give him enough interests like i
get that hes saving the world and
trying not to die but he needs a hobby
and quidditch is a sport so it
doesnt count