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CHAPTER FIFTY FOUR

-: fourth year :-

── IN WHICH HE
FINDS IT

. . .


After twenty minutes or so, Harry and Jane decided to pack up their picnic, carefully placing the lids back onto the tops of the boxes of food and arranging them in the wicker basket in a carefully placed pattern, almost trying to fit them together as if they were a puzzle.

And those twenty minutes gave Harry time to marvel over his presents. They were quite extraordinary - no, they were incredibly extraordinary. Jane had put so much love and care into making it that he couldn't quite believe it was for him.

Sure, he had gotten a fair amount of gifts since starting Hogwarts - such as the Invisibilty cloak, the knitted jumper and fudge from Mrs Weasley, and a number of Broomstick Servicing Kits - but nothing was quite like this.

Of course, all of it was amazing, but he couldn't stop thinking about the poetry book. That was a gift that just seemed so personal. From the very moment they met, it had been abundantly clear just how, for Jane, reading was much more than just that. Reading was an escapism, the one thing she had always been able to rely on throughout years of uncertainty and the feeling of not being wanted.

For her to take a book of poems - and her favourite as well - and underline parts that reminded her of him... well it was something so much more magical than anything he had seen in the entirety of the Wizarding World.

He hadn't had the chance to look through each page, but after just seeing the first few - he could determine one thing. He had never felt so loved than he did in that moment. It was a feeling he had never quite experienced before.

Which was why his head was glued to the floor as they climbed up the hillside, slowly getting further away from the beach and the small town attached to it. He had to find that clover - whether it was actually four-leafed or not.

It was lucky that he had brought his wand with him, tucked into his backpack but easily reachable. He knew it wasn't perhaps the best idea to use magic outside of school, but Hermione was always talking about practising during the summer holidays and he was convinced the Ministry only really cared if it were big spells - one little summoning charm certainly shouldn't alert their system.

But Harry was willing to risk it, eyeing the beginning of the gravel path that Jane was leading them to, neither quite able to believe the view that they had in front of them - it was nothing like anything they had ever seen.

"I think when I'm older I want to travel." Jane stopped abruptly at the edge of the cliff, leaning forward just a little to see down onto the rocks below. "I never really got to leave the city before Flora came and picked me. I think that's going to be my aim."

"I'd like to travel as well." Harry agreed. He would never have thought about it before, but spending the summer with Jane had opened his eyes to more possibilities. "I've only ever been as far as Scotland."

His eyes were still on the floor, glancing up every now and then to check on Jane - she had tripped several times before and seeing her flying off the edge of a cliff was the height of his worries.

His eyes were back on the ground again. Trying to find a clover. There were loads, all grouped together in massive clumps.

Three... three.. five... three.

Five.

He could work with that, glancing up at Jane before ducking down and plucking it from the ground, trying to decide which leaf to take off to look most realistic.

"If we're still friends - and not that I don't think we will be - maybe we could do this summer again." Jane murmured, turning back to look at him. "But instead go abroad and... you actually fucking did it."

Her eyes were wide as she looked down at the clover in his hands. But then a smile appeared on her face, somehow even prettier and full of devotion then usual, Jane stepping forward away from the edge and closer to him, meeting his eyes.

And then she kissed him, and the feeling of a euphoric bliss of relief that Harry could never had been more happier to feel, and would never have expected to welcome like he did. She was kissing him and he was kissing her, arms wrapped around his neck, fingertips grazing the short curls that rested there.

Still in complete disbelief that it was even happening, Harry's hands trailed down her sides and landed on her waist, the scent of lavender and vanilla enveloping his senses. It was complete bliss, he was so happy, so incredibly happy.

He couldn't help but feel a little disappointed when they finally broke apart, hands intertwined and their eyes meeting. Smiles bubbled on their features, the feeling of utter joy so overwhelming that they ended up in giggles, her head resting against his shoulder.





a/n
i love jane and harry
more than anyone else
ngl

and i don't need ppl commenting
about spelling mistakes like an extra r in
the word third. it's obviously a mistake,
it's not supposed to be there and it
doesn't need pointing out because
it's just plain annoying and it's pissing
me off so cut it out huns x

𝗷𝗮𝗻𝗲, harry potterWhere stories live. Discover now