MILLIES POV
I spent the rest of the lesson practicing the 'engorgio' charm on a caterpillar I had found. The spell was very easy for me of course, due to my power, which was working especially well today because of the anger I was currently feeling towards Snape.
Snape had never been like this with any of the other Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers, even if he had wanted the job. Why did he have it in for Professor Lupin? Was it all because of Neville's Boggart? I just hoped Lupin was back soon...
The bell finally rang, and the class made there way out of the room soon after. Most of them sent me smiles, but Parkinson stuck her middle finger up at me, to which I happily returned, before she ran off to Malfoy, trailing after him like an excited puppy. Mione came out last, spotted me sitting on the floor, and hurried over.
"Mione!" I said, standing up. "Are you okay?"
"I'm okay," she replied, glancing back at the classroom door. "I'm not sure if Harry and Ron are though."
"Why?" I asked quickly. "What's wrong with them?"
"Snape kept them behind to sort out their detention," she explained, and upon seeing my confused expression, added, "Harry began shouting at Snape after you left, you know, sticking up for you and whatnot, so Snape gave him a detention too."
I shook my head, a smile tugging at the corner of my lips at her words.
"Oh, and Snape gave us homework-"
"Save your breath," I said, grinning. "I'm not doing it anyway."
Mione rolled her eyes, but it wasn't hard to miss the amusement in them.
The boys joined us soon after, in a towering rage. Harry slung his arm around me, a bit rougher than usual.
"D'you know what that dickhead is making us do?" Ron growled. He was breathing deeply, his fists clenched. "We've got to scrub out the bedpans in the hospital wing! Without magic! Why couldn't Black have hidden in Snape's office, eh? He could have finished him off for us!"
"All for our girls," Harry muttered, pulling me closer and ruffling my hair playfully; yet I still didn't miss the fact that both Mione and Ron's cheeks glowed red at my boyfriend's words.
~~~~~~~~~~~
I woke extremely early the next morning; so early that it was still dark. For a moment I thought the roaring of the wind had woken me, but then I felt a cold breeze on the back of my neck and sat bolt upright - Peeves had been floating next to me, blowing hard in my ear.
"What the bloody hell are you doing?" I hissed furiously.
Peeves puffed out his cheeks, blew hard and zoomed backwards out of the room, cackling.
I fumbled for my alarm clock and squinted at it; it was half past four. Cursing Peeves, I rolled over and tried to get back to sleep, but it was very difficult, now I was awake, to ignore the sounds of the thunder rumbling overhead, the pounding of the wind against the castle walls and the distant creaking of the trees in the Forbidden Forest. In a few hours I would be out on the Quidditch pitch, battling through that gale. I finally gave up any thoughts of more sleep, got up, dressed, picked up my Nimbus Two Thousand and walked quietly out of the dormitory.
As I opened the door, something brushed against my leg. I bent down to see Smokey rubbing his head on my white trainers. I tucked my broomstick under my arm and picked my cat up lovingly.
"Hey, bubs," I whispered, burying my face into his soft fur. "Can't sleep either?"
He purred in response, so I made my way down the stairs and into the common room, where the noise of the storm was even louder. I knew better than to think the match would be cancelled; Quidditch matches weren't called off for trifles such as thunderstorms. Nevertheless, I was starting to feel apprehensive. Oliver had pointed out the three Hufflepuff chasers to me in the corridor; they were all a lot bigger than me, which would be an advantage in this weather because they were less likely to be blown off course...
"Mills?"
My head snapped up to see Harry sitting by the fire. My heart caught in my chest as I saw him wearing grey tracksuit bottoms and a hoodie. He looked hot. I bit my lip, forcing myself to shakily say, "Er - what are you doing down here?"
Harry shrugged. "Can't sleep. Come here, love."
I quickly obliged, walking over to the sofa and dropping down next to him. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and I curled into his side. All worries about the match instantly left my mind, while Smokey climbed onto Harry's lap and layed down, stretching his long body against Harry's legs.
"Fred and George told Oliver that they don't think you should play, you know," Harry said, rubbing my arm up and down, "because of the weather - it's dangerous."
I frowned. "What did you say?"
"I told them that you can handle yourself and that they wouldn't be able to stop you," he replied, shaking his head slightly.
I grinned up at my boyfriend. He looked more handsome, if that was possible, in the moonlight, where the light brought out his elegant features and he wasn't trying to impress anyone by fixing his hair - I loved how the raven locks flopped wildly over his forehead without a proper place.
"I don't think your parents would like you playing, either, Mills," Harry said, smirking as he caught me staring at him. I quickly looked away, instead leaning my head on his chest.
"My parents?" I repeated dreamily, my eyes fluttering shut.
Harry hummed, lifting his hand and stroking my hair soothingly. I had thought that getting more sleep was impossible - but now I could easily doze off with Harry's comforting touch.
"Yeah, well, like you said, nothing's going to stop me," I whispered, pulling gently at the strings of his hoodie.
"Right," Harry said wearily.
I scoffed. "Don't worry about that me, H. I survived Tom Riddle in the Chamber of Secrets last year, I think I can survive a storm."
Harry nodded, though he still didn't look convinced.
"Do u miss them?" I blurted out. I cringed at myself, cursing silently.
Harry tightened his arm around me. "Miss who?"
"Er," I hesitated, closing me eyes. "Your parents."
Silence.
I opened one eye, to see Harry staring into the fire blankly.
"I'm sorry, Harry," I said, opening my other eye too. "I shouldn't have-"
"It hurts," Harry muttered, wrapping his other arm around me too. "But it's a weird sort of pain. I - I can't describe it..."
Silence.
"You don't have to describe it, Harry."
Silence.
"I think it's because I can't really remember anything about them," he continued, his voice cracking slightly. I trailed my finger up and down his chest comfortingly. "I think the pain is because of what's missing...of what could have been...you know? It's more of an ache, than anything, because I can only wonder - it's alway I think...never I know. That's what hurts."
I was speechless. My hand paused on his jumper as I processed his words. That was the first time I realised - maybe, just maybe, Harry James Potter wasn't the confident boy that I saw every day. Maybe inside, he was broken.
"I don't have the words to make that pain go away," I said finally, wrapping my arms around his neck and straightening up so that we were looking directly into each other's eyes. Harry's green ones looked almost desperate, as though searching mine, "but I do have ears to listen to you, whenever you want to talk about it. I'm always here, H. Always."
Harry leant forward and kissed me softly, as though putting all the emotions he was feeling right now into this kiss.
And so we spent the remaining hours of the night talking about anything and everything, both comforted by the fact that we had each other. The sun slowly began to rise, the morning sunlight illuminating our skin a warm golden colour. Looking up at Harry, who was talking amicably to me with a relaxed smile on his face, I realised that he was not the only one falling in love.
"You should go and get dressed," I said, once the room was bright with sunlight. "We can go to breakfast early."
"Wanna come with?" Harry asked smoothly, sending me a wink as he stood up.
"Goodbye, Potter," I replied, making my way across the common room.
"You're not waiting for me?"
"Not after that comment, no."
I quickly climbed through the Portrait Hole, laughing at Harry's pout.
"Stand and fight, you mangy cur!" yelled Sir Cadogan.
"Oh, shut up," I yawned.
I revived a bit over a large bowl of porridge, and just as I started on some toast, someone else joined me at the Gryffindor table.
"Hi, Millie!"
Lyra Medina, Austin Hampton's friend, sat down opposite me, smiling kindly.
"Hi, Lyra!" I greeted, sending her a smile. "Everything alright?"
"Yes, I just wanted to wish you good luck today," she said, fiddling with her tie.
"Oh, thanks," I said, taking another bite of my toast.
"Actually, that's not the only thing I wanted to say..." Lyra said slowly, watching me hesitantly.
I raised my eyebrows, placing the toast back on my plate. "Okay?"
"So - erm - how do I start this," she stuttered, shuffling in her seat. "Right - I'm glad you're dating Harry Potter."
I tilted my head. "Oh, er - me too." I laughed awkwardly.
"It's just - I thought you liked Elwood Mac, at first," she said slowly.
"No! We're just friends," I said quickly, shaking my head. "Why? Do you like him?"
"No!" Lyra did the same as I, laughing. "I - erm - my best friend, Austin Hampton - er - well - I know you're close with Elwood, and - have you noticed they way they stare at each other?"
I nearly choked on my pumpkin juice. I slammed my goblet back down on the table, looking at Lyra excitedly.
"Yes!" I squealed. "Yes, I have!"
"Oh, thank goodness," she breathed, laughing. "I thought it was just me!"
"I thought it was just me!"
We giggled, coming to the agreement that they could maybe like each other. We had moved onto exchanging absurd theories as to how we were going to set them up together, when Harry walked into the Hall, broomstick in hand, looking very hot in his scarlet Quidditch robes. I bit my lip, and Lyra sent me a knowing wink, before running off.
By the time I had finally finished my toast, the rest of the team had turned up.
"It's going to be a tough one," said Oliver, who wasn't eating anything.
"Stop worrying, Oliver," Angelina told him soothingly, "we don't mind a bit of rain."
But it was considerably more that a bit of rain. Such was the popularity of Quidditch that the whole school turned out to watch the match as usual, and I ran down the lawns towards the Quidditch pitch wearing Harry's jumper, which was far too big for me, in an attempt to keep warm, head bowed against the ferocious wind. Just before I entered the changing room, I saw Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle laughing and pointing from under an enormous umbrella on their way to the stadium.
The team sat down and waited for Oliver's usual pre-match pep talk, but it didn't come. He tried to speak several times, made an odd gulping noise, then shook his head hopelessly and beckoned us to follow him.
The wind was so strong that I staggered sideways as we walked out onto the pitch. If the crowd was cheering I couldn't hear it over the fresh rolls of thunder. Rain was splattering in my eyes, blurring my vision.
The Hufflepuffs were approaching from the opposite side of the pitch, wearing canary-yellow robes. The captains walked up to each other and shook hands; Cedric smiled at Oliver but Oliver now looked as though he had lockjaw and merely nodded. I saw Madam Hooch's mouth form the words, 'Mount your brooms'. I pulled my right foot out of the mud with a squelch and swung it over my Nimbus Two Thousand. Harry caught my eye and nodded, to which I returned. Madam Hooch put her whistle to her lips and gave it a blast that sounded shrill and distant - we were off.