𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐀, harry potter.

𝐗𝐈𝐗 ─ 'tis the end of our year.

5:49 in the morning.

They were chasing the aurora. The sky showered them in honey glazed rays and transparent rosé haze. Harry's and Y/N's eyes grazed upon every bank of aquamarine morning water, the peaking dawn from windless hills, chirps of empyrean melodies. Never did virgin beauty wake devouter to the bridal feast than these moves in this hour upon the lake in adoration to the east. The breathing of Harry and Y/N linked and softened like the cosmogryal moon depositing the sky's throne in exchange for a subtle sun glow. The young palmer sun blossomed, before their eyes, wilt warm with dove-desire. The two thirteen-year olds soaked the dayspring carelessly; its ocherous firewhiskey scintilla reminded Harry of her, and its medallion fawn morning cinnamon reminded Y/N of him.

"I guess I'm not as mad at you as I was before when you woke me up," Harry breathed out, "for this."

"Yeah, well" Y/N grinned slightly, completely awe-struck, "Mark my words when I say 'It's what you're going to want'"

The hill was just almost out of Hogwarts' bounds, circular edged, and highland. It overhung above a wide still lake coloured of crystal azure. Its ultramarine was nearly threatened by the sunrise's aurora reflecting its waters.

It was just Harry and Y/N with the waters, sun glows, and wildlife.

Just beside them was a sepia lengthy semi-circle log for seating. Y/N pried her eyes off the invariant equatorial renaissance painting blanketing the ether. The thousand glowing embers blazing the furnace with grazes of warm coloured paints made it harder for Y/N to drop her gaze to the now motionless morning water. Walking closer to the edge for a clear eyeshot view, she turned back to Harry with a grin,

"Don't push off, I just want quick glimpse."

"It's not me who's going to be pushing you off," Harry beamingly scoffed, indicating to the brisk east wind higher up ground level.

And so he backed away, still in his awe-struck state, taking a seat on the log with his arms crossed around his knees. Harry's glasses slanted on the bridge of his very nose, his hair gusted by the wind like the grass swaying, his chin propped on the back of his hands lips slightly parted from the euneirophrenia as Y/N sat on the grass a meter or two from where Harry sat. Sitting on the grass with her arms extended behind her for support, her unruly morning hair nurtured by the mountain's gale, and her feet swaying off the edge in the airspace of oneirataxia.

6:01 in the morning.

The sun glow was in motion, indeed, and it left the edge of the mountain, shining over to where the log laid. Chasing its warmth, Y/N sat at the opposite end of the log of where awe-stricken Harry sat, mimicking his position. Both heads propped and titled on their hands wrapped around their knees. Barefooted, two nelipots they were, the grass oscillated beneath their feet embossing them into their virescence.

Harry started, "This is all so —"

"— Unbelievable? dream-like? incredible? Yeah I know," Y/N breathed, averting her gaze to Harry's optics.

"Before he left, Sirius I mean," Harry said, profoundly staring back into Y/N's eyes, "He'd see us very soon. In the near future, Sirius said not to fight any offers? The man sounds like he has it all planned."

"Good characteristics in him, then" Y/N snorted, "It's important all fugitives hold such spirit."

A round of laughter had retreated, and Harry spoke once more, "Aren't you angry? I know how much you dislike when you aren't fully aware of everything thats around you —"

Y/N bit back a roar of laughter, "— What, like magical schools and bleach headed pricks?"

"I mean, have you even consider what you think about Aunt serephine after the current series of events," Harry asked, "Aren't you mad?"