DEAD TO ME → (h. potter)

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

"You too," Harry said meekly, taking a short drag. She had yet to look at him just yet, and Harry wondered what it would take for her to meet his eyes. "I didn't think it'd be so close of a game."

"You underestimate me," She quipped simply. "Told you I've played every position."

Harry wanted to talk to her about the night in the Quidditch Commons. He had been wanting to since it had happened; he wasn't sure if the emotions that pumped through his veins whenever he set eyes on her had fueled the way he seemed to burn for her or if they inhibited his ability to let their flame grow.

"Uhm... Jones..." He couldn't quite form words to express his feelings. His addled brain could barely even function with being so close to her and even though he wasn't looking at her, he wondered if he'd be able to speak of what had happened without stumbling over each word. "I know that you... well — I — I don't... I just..."

Jones glanced at him, and his breath caught in his throat. How he even managed to be in such close proximity to her in the past and not have his words fall flat, he could not even fathom. He watched carefully, his words becoming simply nothing as she crushed the cigarette into the tiny ashtray beside her. And when she turned her body completely to face him, he simply could not speak.

"Is this about... uhm, what happened?" She spoke sedulously, her plump lips moving so delicately that Harry had to consciously move his eyes away from them. He wondered at what point he had truly stopped hating her and when the sound of her voice had become sweet to his ears. He wordlessly nodded. "Uhm... I'm sorry, Potter, but... I don't know if I can explain it, either."

"Well, I just want you to know that... it wasn't 'cause I wanted to see the — the mark," Harry said quietly. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her right hand fiddle with the hem of her left sleeve. He pushed the urge to grab ahold of her hand down to the pits of his stomach. "And... and I don't — I — I don't want you to — to think —"

"Stealing my speech-impediment, are you?" Jones joked with a lackluster smirk. He felt his face glow red as her pretty pink lips slowly turned down into a somber frown. She said nothing more.

"I need to ask you something," His voice was low and soft, and by the glimmer in her eyes he could tell she wasn't used to hearing him speak as such, or anyone for that matter. "And I want you to answer honestly. Can you do that for me?"

She had a very odd look on her face at his words, as though she were conflicted between biting back at him for speaking to her like a child or nodding obediently without another word. To his astonishment, she went for the latter.

"Why did you kiss me, Indiana?" Harry asked in a frail voice, his voice laced with tremors as though the words themselves might break in half. At the sound of her first name, he observed as she weakly blinked twice, her dark eyelashes elegantly fluttering as she did so and at the sight of her pupils dilating, Harry told himself he would never address her as Jones again.

"I..." Her words fell flat on her tongue, and he wondered if she'd even give him an answer. Her fingers were fiddling with the material of her beige pants, pinching it and folding it about anxiously.

"Because if it really was a mistake," Harry went on. "And if it was just some stupid thing to you, then..."

He trailed off, his heart churning in chest and suddenly it was dreadfully difficult to breathe. And when he opened his mouth to continue speaking, he wasn't sure if he'd be able to keep quiet.

"I hated seeing that sixth year hurt you like that," He went on, staring bullets into the open window and praying for a breeze to drift through it as he felt his arms grow heated. Indiana's eyes were wide, he could tell, and she was staring at him, but he couldn't find it in him to stare back. "That's why I punched him. And — and I hated seeing you kiss Nott on the cheek after you won your match against Hufflepuff. And I hate the fact that all you're doing is sitting beside me and I feel like I can't breathe."