𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐀, harry potter.

𝐗𝐈𝐗 ─ 'tis the end of our year.

————. ° ♧︎: *.☽. * :☾. ♕ *. ————

"Harold."

"Harold is unavailable at the moment."

It had been an entire week after the alethiology for Ron, Y/N, Hermione, and Harry. Ron's leg has recovered and Y/N's waist healed with the mirifical work of Madam Pomfrey. 5:27 in the morning, Y/N tiptoed her way up the steps to Harry's dormitory. There he laid sprawled with unruly bed-hair, bed quilt up tugged to his chin, his eyelids fluttering his vivid viridescent hue.

"Is Harold available now?" Y/N whispered.

Harry pushed her face away, muttering, "Harold is getting his serious treatment of beauty rest."

"Shall I help and pull out the diffuser and its oils?" Y/N deadpanned, still whispering, "I'm out of lavender but poison can substitute."

"What do you want," Harry groused, sitting up upright staring at her in the eye.

Y/N silently clapped in accomplishment, picking up his glasses from his bedside table, planting them on the bridge of his nose, "It's what you're going to want."

5:30 in the morning.

Y/N forced Harry out of his dormitory to dart down the stairs, still in their sleeping gowns and nightwear, in hurry to get there before matutine. Harry groggily followed Y/N cluelessly of her intentions. Out the portrait hole, down the stairs, and around a corridor or two.

"Y/N where're we going?" Harry started.

Y/N hushed, "You'll see!"

"Y'know I was in this exact situation last week when you were in the infirmary, chasing Hermione, no answer —"

"You're still not excused for leaving me and Ron out of it all."

"YOUR HIPS WERE COMPLETELY BUSTED — I COULDN'T DO THAT YO-" Harry whisper-shouted, Y/N's eyes widened at seeing filch down the corridor, looking to their opposite direction.

"You're no fit for sneaking," Y/N spun around to Harry, huffing before they could get caught, "Next corridor! Go!"

And so their soles, fashionably out of order, ran on every cold tile of the corridors they raced through from Mr. Filch On Duties. The wind beating through Y/N's slovenly morning hair and Harry's outstretched arms out from his sides. They set foot out of the resting castle, their bare feet meeting the sprouting summer grass, and Harry continued mindlessly following Y/N's aimless odyssey. Just as Harry caught on, the two were chasing the the golden aubade disc of the rising dawn.

"DON'T SLOW YOUR PACE!" Y/N screamed in glee, "WE'RE ALMOST THERE!"

In the flash of a kalopsia catching polaroid, Y/N stopped her run at the boundary of a wide ridge, view of the grassy lands, rippling abluvion waters, and the horizon of the dawning. Harry, panting, followed up his sprint bumping into Y/N's mesmerized figure.