𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 | 𝐡. 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

𝟒 - 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐬

Ophelia plopped herself down on the grassy field allowing herself to bask in the Scottish sun, which can be blistering when it wants to be.

Given her dad's condition she often finds herself in wooded areas to give him some much needed freedom when he's been cooped up for a couple days, he taught her to appreciate the nature surrounding her because it was here before us. At first when she was young she didn't quite understand but as she takes a good inhale of the fresh country air she realises it's just the old smell of the earth itself, she can smell the mud from the forest, the wet moss and the pine needles on the trees, and something else she couldn't quite put her finger on.

That something else was Harry Potter, who places himself on the ground next to Ophelia, noticeably less graceful as Ophelia but he seems to relax as soon as he gets comfy on the soft ground. Ophelia turns to him and asks

"You don't need to stay with me if you don't want to, y'know?"

Harry looks up at her from his position, slightly confused as to what she's telling him, she holds up a hand so the shadow of it blocks Harry's eyes from the sun, she notices how truly green his eyes are, like emeralds in his skull.

It's really hard not to notice how bright they are once you see them like in the sun like that.

"I want to, you're my friend too." he states, propping himself up on one elbow he asks her "How come you asked that? You trying to get rid of me or something?"

Ophelia laughs at the absurdity, she adjusts something in her hair while she responds in that smooth voice.

"Harry, I'm a lot more blunt than you think, If I didn't want you here you'd know by now."

"Then why ask?"

She pauses, and lays down on the grass beside him, their shoulders and arms pressed against each other, neither makes a move to remove them, instead both silently agreeing they don't mind it. Given it's Harry's turn to look down at her he realises she has a small scar on her jawline stretching down towards her earlobe, it was faded but still prominently obvious against her very faintly tanned skin.

I wonder where she got that from.

"Truth is Harry, I don't think there's anything interesting about me for you want to stay here, besides maybe my sassy wit." It's Harry's turn to laugh now, he watches a grin spread across her face as she eyes him up. "I just don't want you thinking you owe it to me to be friends with me after summer—"

"I know," said Harry quickly, "It's just complete nonsense, no one has to be interesting to talk to me y'know, everyone has this weird thing about me, like all my mates have to have something about them to me to choose them, but thing is, I don't choose them. I'm sure they'd have stopped talking to me if I was an utter prat." Harry explains

"Are you sure they're not still hanging out with you despite you being an utter prat." she jokes, earning a playful jab from Harry, she continues to laugh before saying.

"Thanks though Harry, for being a prat, keeps things interesting in the common room."

"Oh I thought we were done thanking each other? What do you mean "keeps things interesting"?" he asks, curiosity steeping into his mind.

"Oh you know, because the Weasley twins antics can get tiresome over time, but some of the girls fancy you y'know, I find it funny how they go about their lives to trying to impress you."

"What?" Harry deadpans, jaw nearly falling of his handsome face, Ophelia closes his mouth with her hand pressing under his chin to close it, Harry notices how soft her hands were in the brief time they had made contact with his face.