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CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND EIGHTEEN

-: fifth year :-

── IN WHICH JANE HIDES AWAY

. . .


Harry didn't know what was going on with his girlfriend, which was odd, because he always knew what was going on with his girlfriend. Jane's face, every expression, every movement so beautifully gentle, seemed to have changed the moment she saw the Longbottoms, and whilst the constant pleasantries remained constant, there was an edge to them that made them seem like a concious effort to show them.

She sat quietly at dinner, despite it being one of the most celebratory meals they had had yet - complete with the traditional turkey and many, many roast potatoes - and slipped a shot or two of firewhiskey into her drink as they sat by the living room, before excusing herself and claiming a headache. He watched, quietly, as Remus and Sirius exchanged glances, Flora sat by the fire looking equally worried, before the former teacher rose to his feet and followed her.

There was no doubt that Jane had grown closer to the inhabitants and various visitors of Grimmauld Place, because Sirius was looking conflicted about not following her himself, the look of concern a stark difference to the smile in face of the holiday. And Harry was glad of that; she couldn't put so much in a letter these days, out of consideration of Mad-Eye's continous warnings of the Ministry monitoring mail, but he couldn't help but be a little... confused.

He felt like he had missed something, missed something important that he should have noticed. How could he not have noticed? Jane was clearly upset and whilst she was constantly by his side to make him smile and support him, he hadn't even realised that she was bothered by something. 

Harry made to get up moments later, but Sirius stopped him before he could go, promising later would be a better time for her to see her, to allow herself a small recluse from the necessities of a magic world with someone who somewhat understood the circumstances she was in. Because seemingly, Harry wouldn't - or at least, not until she grew more comfortable in face off what she was saddened by. 

Which was why, that night, once everyone had decided it was in fact time to retire to their rooms, Harry got into his pajamas, set his stack of presents aside, stuffed several jumpers beneath his covers and told Ron where he was going, and began the careful walk up to her room. 

He could tell she wasn't asleep when he saw the strip of light beneath her door and he knocked gently twice, the sound echoing through the hallway. Footsteps inside signalled she was, indeed, awake, and moments after the door swung open, Jane standing with her usual soft smile. 

"Hi." She greeted, because it wasn't such a rare occurence for him to spend the night in her room. "Come in." She pushed the door open further for him and he followed in, clicking the lock closed as always and coming to sit beside her on her bed, watching as she carefully, methodically put away the embroidery she had been doing - something for her textiles project that Harry had seen everytime he ventured across the margin between the dark halls of Grimmauld Place and into the summer that was her room. .

She folded the piece of fabric - it was the colour of grass and the thread she had been using ws a sort of rose shade of pink - and tucked it into the drawer of her bedside table. Her knees drew to her chest before she knew it, a sort of weakened expression coming to her face as she did so. Harry had ventured into unfamiliar territory; he had missed something important, something deeply important that somehow transpired right beneath his nose yet he was seemingly too preoccupied and now... now Jane wasn't looking at him. 

"What..." Harry's words trailed off, unable to gauge in that singular word whether or not he was approaching it correctly, and so, he continued, "What happened?" He asked, deciding it must be the best way to go about it, to just ask the question and be through with it. 

"I don't..." Jane seemed to be having a similar problem, swallowing harshly, "...Can I just have a hug?" She asked, meeting his gaze.

Harry stared at her for a moment, before nodding and sitting forward, pulling her to his chest in a matter of moments. A kiss was pressed to the top of her head in reassurance, and as Jane felt the circle of his arms around her waist, she relaxed, a huff of a breath causing her shoulders to lower and her to melt into his touch.

She hadn't exactly told him everything yet, and it was so stupid she doubted that she would even ever tell him at all. But for now, at least, she could try and enjoy the rest of the holidays with him. 

Because only Merlin knew how sour things would turn after that.



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