A/N : HEY, I'm sorry for updating so late. I bet this is the shortiest chapter! anywayyy hopppee you enjoy this please do comment and vote. This is unedited.
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The sun hung high in the sky, casting a warm, golden glow over the local park. A curious and energetic nine-year-old girl with a mop of unruly (h/c), clung tightly to her mother's hand as they strolled along the winding paths. Birds sang in the trees, and the gentle rustling of leaves provided a soothing background melody.
The little girl's mother, a kind and loving woman named (M/n), couldn't help but smile as she looked down at her daughter. (Y/n)'s bright eyes sparkled with wonder, and her innocent laughter echoed through the air.
"Mum, look!" (Y/n) exclaimed, tugging her mother towards a colourful playground ahead. "Can we go on the swings, please?"
(M/n) chuckled, her heart swelling with affection for her daughter. "Of course, sweetheart. Let's go."
They approached the swings, and (Y/n)'s eyes widened with anticipation. (M/n) carefully helped her into one of the swings, making sure she was secure before giving her a gentle push. (Y/n) squealed with delight as she soared through the air.
Higher and higher she went, her laughter ringing out like a sweet melody. (M/n) watched with love and pride as her daughter's joy radiated throughout the park. (Y/n)'s tiny fingers gripped the chains of the swing, her face radiant with happiness.
As the swings gently slowed to a stop, (M/n) reached out to catch her daughter as she hopped off. (Y/n) landed in her mother's arms, giggling.
"Again, Mum, again!" (Y/n) begged.
(M/n) couldn't resist her daughter's enthusiasm. She gave (Y/n) another gentle push, and the swings carried her back into the sky.
The world shifted and changed around (Y/n).
Suddenly, she found herself standing outside a closed bedroom door, the wood grain beneath her small hand feeling real and tangible. Curiosity compelled her to press her ear against the door, and what she heard made her heart ache.
Inside the room, her mother, (M/n), sat on the edge of the bed, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. In her trembling hands, she held a cherished framed photograph of (Y/n)'s grandmother, a woman who had always been a source of warmth and love. The photograph captured her grandmother's smiling face, a treasured memory that seemed to have been taken in happier times.
Tears streamed down (M/n)'s face as she whispered words to the photograph, her voice trembling with grief. "I miss you so much, Mum. You were always there for us, and I wish you were here now."
(Y/n)'s heart ached as she watched her mother, hidden behind the bedroom door. She had never seen her mother like this before, so vulnerable and filled with sorrow. The realization of her grandmother's passing and the impact it had on her mother were overwhelming.
(Y/n) wanted to rush into the room and comfort her mother, to let her know that she was not alone in her grief. But something held her back, an unspoken understanding that this moment was meant to be private, a sacred farewell to a beloved mother and grandmother.
As (Y/n) continued to watch, her mother gently placed the framed photograph back on the bedside table, her fingers lingering for a moment before she wiped away her tears. She took a deep, shuddering breath and composed herself, as if she was trying to be strong for (Y/n).
(Y/n) stepped away from the door, her own tears glistening in her eyes.
Once again, the world shifted around (Y/n) like a mirage, and she found herself in a dimly lit room. Through a partially opened door, she could see her mother, (M/n), engaged in a hushed conversation with a man who she recognized as her uncle.
(Y/n) strained to listen, her curiosity getting the better of her. Her mother and uncle were speaking in hushed voices that made it difficult for her to make out their words. They leaned in close to one another, their faces etched with seriousness.
Her uncle seemed agitated, his voice growing louder as frustration took hold. "I'm not your brother! So stop giving me nonsense advice!" he yelled, his words echoing through the room.
(Y/n)'s eyes widened in shock at the sudden outburst. It was the first time she had ever heard her uncle raise his voice in such a manner. She felt a pang of fear and confusion, not understanding the context of their conversation or why it had escalated so quickly.
Her mother, (M/n), appeared taken aback by her brother's sudden outburst. She lowered her head, her expression a poignant blend of sadness and resignation. "I just ... I want you to embrace the present and let go of the past," she replied, her voice quivering.
"Embrace the present?" her uncle asked with a sharp, bitter sarcasm, "you think I could ever do that?" (Y/n) couldn't fathom what they were discussing, but it was clear that her uncle was seething with anger.
"Orius, please understand that I only wish the best for you and--"
(Y/n) couldn't catch her uncle's response clearly, but his body language oozed anger and frustration. He abruptly turned away from her mother, forcefully pushing past the door behind which (Y/n) had been discreetly listening.
As he passed, (Y/n) held her breath, praying he wouldn't notice her presence. Her uncle's footsteps grew fainter as he retreated down the hallway, leaving (Y/n) alone in the dimly lit room.
The world shifted again, but this time it felt like a sudden plunge into icy waters. (Y/n) found herself in a dimly lit, melancholic room. The air hung heavy with sorrow, and the room seemed to close in on her, engulfing her in its oppressive atmosphere.
(Y/n), now a thirteen-year-old girl, sat on the edge of a somberly draped bed. Her face was hidden behind trembling hands as she cried, her body wracked with deep, heart-wrenching sobs. The pain of her mother's recent passing was a crushing weight on her young shoulders, and it felt like her very soul was tearing apart.
Every sob was a shuddering cry for a love lost, for a future that had been cruelly stolen away. (Y/n)'s tears stained her cheeks, and the room seemed to echo her grief.
As she cried, (Y/n)'s eyes drifted to the figure leaning against the wall. It was her uncle, the enigmatic presence that had always intrigued her. His face was a mask of crossed emotions, his features carved in stone, but his eyes held a secret she couldn't decipher.
Her uncle had been an enigma to her, and now, in this moment of grief, he seemed like a stranger. He was already looking at her, his gaze unwavering, and it sent a shiver down her spine.
Unable to contain her sorrow, (Y/n) continued to cry, her tears falling like raindrops. It was a deep, soul-wrenching grief that threatened to consume her entirely.
Her uncle finally spoke, his voice lacking the tenderness or sympathy she had hoped for. "You know, she's quite fortunate," he remarked, his words tinged with bitterness. "She won't have to endure her illness, all while ensuring your happiness," he continued, his voice laden with resentment. "There are fates worse than death... like living a life devoid of purpose and helpless."
(Y/n)'s tears momentarily ceased as she attempted to grasp the meaning behind his words. Was he trying to console her, or were his words directed at the memory of her mother? The ambiguity in his tone left her feeling even more perplexed.
She attempted to focus her gaze on her uncle's face, to find answers in his eyes, but her vision began to blur. The room around her started to spin, and a disorienting sensation washed over her. It was as if the world itself was fragmenting, and she was being pulled away from this haunting scene.
Before she could make sense of her uncle's cryptic words or confront him about his strange behaviour, the room dissolved into darkness, and —
"Sabrina!" When (Y/n) opened her eyes, it was Harry's face that greeted her, gently tapping her on the shoulder.
She stared at him for a moment, but her mind was preoccupied with something else. It had been almost a year since she had last dreamt of her mother. Her chest tightened, but she felt grateful that she had dreamt of her again, as her mother's image was becoming hazy in her memories, even though the dream consisted of memories from the past years.
"I've been trying to wake you up; we're already in Hogsmeade," she heard Harry say. She glanced around and noticed that Ron and Hermione were walking down the bus, along with Tonks, while other passengers looked at Harry (who seemed clueless). Then, she remembered that the Christmas holidays were over, and they were on the Knight Bus (they had taken the bus to go to Hogsmeade), which had given them quite a bumpy ride. She hadn't even realized that she had fallen asleep.
She quickly got up and walked down the bus with Harry (who's giving her curious glances), and Tonks and Lupin helped them with their luggage.
Harry glanced up at the three decks of the Knight Bus when they finally got out of the bus, and saw all of the passengers staring down at them, their noses pressed flat against the windows.
"You'll be safe once you're on the grounds," Tonks assured them, casting a cautious eye around the deserted road. "Have a good term, okay? Especially you, pretty girl," she added with a wink at (Y/n), whose mind was still lingering on her dream.
"Look after yourselves."Lupin chimed in, shaking hands with everyone before reaching out to Harry last. In a hushed tone, he spoke, "Harry, I know you don't like Snape, but he is an exceptional Occlumens, and we all, including Sirius, want you to learn to protect yourself. So, work hard, alright?"
"Yeah, alright," Harry replied heavily, his gaze lifting to meet Lupin's prematurely lined face. "See you, then."
The seven of them trudged up the slick, stone drive toward the towering castle, their trunks in tow, each step echoing in the cold, misty air. Hermione, always planning ahead, was already animatedly discussing her plans to knit a few elf hats before bedtime. She turned to (Y/n) with an eager expression, asking if she could lend a hand. (Y/n) nodded with a faint smile, her thoughts slowly shifting from the distant horizon to the present moment for a few seconds.
As they reached the imposing oak front doors of the castle, Harry glanced back, noting that the Knight Bus had already vanished. His attention was then drawn back to (Y/n), who walked alongside them but seemed lost in a world of her own. Playfully, he poked her with a finger, his other hand still gripping his heavy trunk. (Y/n) turned to him with a puzzled look, her eyes searching for an explanation.
Harry observed the others up ahead, still wrestling with their unwieldy trunks, and decided to slow his pace to match (Y/n)'s. "You alright?" he inquired, his concern evident on his face.
She regarded him with an incredulous expression. "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"
"You seem like something's on your mind," Harry replied. "I mean, it wouldn't hurt to talk about it, would it?"
(Y/n) shook her head. "I swear, I'm alright," she reassured him.
"Are you sure?" Harry pressed.
"Yeah, definitely. What about you?"
"Yeah, just eager to get back to Grimmauld Place," he admitted.
"Why?" she asked, genuinely curious.
"It's still for the same reason I mentioned the other night," he replied, raising his eyebrows as if mildly reproaching her for not remembering what he had shared with her.
(Y/n) mumbled an "oh" as she recalled what he meant.
In the dimly lit drawing room of Grimmauld Place, Harry and (Y/n) stood by the tall, draped window. The night sky outside was a canvas of stars, their soft light filtering through the old, dusty panes. The room was adorned with faded tapestries, the ancestral home of the Black family steeped in history and secrets.
As they gazed out at the heavens, their voices carried through the hushed room, painting the night with their words. The gentle flicker of candlelight cast dancing shadows on the walls, creating an atmosphere of both comfort and unease.
Harry broke the contemplative silence, his voice tinged with exhaustion. "You know, I'm not really looking forward to returning to Hogwarts," he admitted, his gaze fixed on the celestial display.
(Y/n) turned to him, her expression soft and inquisitive, her eyes reflecting the starlight. "That's the first time I've heard you say that. You usually can't wait to go back to Hogwarts," she recalled, remembering reading it in the books, but now, she found it hard to believe that Harry didn't want to return.
He sighed, a weighty exhalation that seemed to echo in the stillness of the room. "It's just... there's so much going on. Umbridge is terrible, I'm banned from Quidditch, and I'll have private lessons with Snape about this Occlumency thing," he paused, the night swallowing his words, "and he visited us the other day to tell me about it."
(Y/n) nodded, her understanding evident in her eyes. She remembered that day when they saw Sirius and Snape about to attack each other, and Harry stood between them. It was the same day when Mr. Weasley returned from St. Mungo's, completely healed.
"And there's Sirius," Harry continued, his voice laced with concern. "I don't want to leave him here with Kreacher."
(Y/n) furrowed her brow, her thoughts racing to the strange, unsettling presence of the old house-elf since its discovery in the attic. "You told me about the times you caught him looking at you strangely, right? You know, I think you're right, he's acting oddly."
Harry nodded, his eyes tracing the constellations above. "Yes, and I have my suspicions about him, but I can't tell Sirius."
(Y/n) absorbed his words, her own eyes reflecting the starry sky. "You should still talk to him about your concerns, Harry. He deserves to know."
"I'm trying, but I can't seem to find the right time since he's isolating himself now that we're going back to Hogwarts," Harry replied.
(Y/n) shrugged as she remembered the times Sirius did that, and it strangely reminded her of someone. "I still think you ought to tell him. You never know when it might be the last time you see him," she replied, her thoughts drifting to "that" someone.
(Y/n) was snapped out of her reverie by the sound of Harry calling her name. Her eyelids fluttered as she redirected her focus to him, a subtle flush warming her cheeks, realizing she had been caught lost in her thoughts.
"Sorry, Harry, what was that?" she inquired, her voice carrying a hint of sheepishness.
Harry responded with a sly, playful grin. "I was wondering if you're up for a Quidditch lesson later?"
(Y/n) couldn't help but smile at the prospect.
"I mean, you're on the team now, aren't you? You've taken over my spot as the Seeker, so I hope you're ready to meet my standards," he teased.
(Y/n) playfully shook her head, her eyes dancing with amusement as she retorted, "Meet your standards? Please, Potter, I'm the one who set those standards in the first place."
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At midnight, (Y/n) and Harry met in the common room, the familiar warmth of Gryffindor's hearth casting dancing shadows on the walls. The Invisibility Cloak lay neatly folded in Harry's hands, ready for their adventure.
(Y/n) raised an eyebrow as she looked at Harry, her curiosity piqued. "Harry, are you sure you want to go out for a Quidditch lesson? We just got back from Christmas holidays, and we should be resting, not flying in the cold."
Harry grinned, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. "Well, it's fine, Sabrina. Besides, giving you a Quidditch lesson is my idea of relaxation. Flying is soothing for me, and I couldn't think of a better way to unwind after the holidays."
Her skepticism gave way to a knowing smile as she saw the genuine excitement in his eyes. She couldn't help but blush. "Alright then, Professor Potter, lead the way."
Together, they slipped under the Invisibility Cloak, their figures disappearing from view. The cloak enveloped them in its magic, rendering them invisible to the world. They made their way to the Quidditch pitch, their footsteps muffled by the cloak's enchantment.
Once they arrived at the pitch, Harry mounted his broom and then handed one to (Y/n). The moon hung high in the dark sky, casting a silvery glow over the Quidditch field. "Are you ready?" he asked with a grin.
(Y/n) nodded, her own broom in hand. "Always, Professor Potter."
Harry's grin widened as he remembered their previous lessons. "Great, Sabrina. Since we've been practicing, you've got the basics down pat. Now, let's focus on the Seeker's role."
(Y/n) adjusted her grip on the broom, her excitement building. "I'm all ears, Harry."
"Alright," Harry began, taking off and rising a few feet above the ground. (Y/n) followed suit effortlessly. "As a Seeker, your main goal is to catch the Golden Snitch. It's small, fast, and it can appear anywhere on the pitch. Your job is to spot it before anyone else and catch it to end the game."
They began to circle the pitch, Harry explaining the strategies and tactics unique to Seekers. He shared tips on keeping a sharp eye on the sky, anticipating the Snitch's movements, and maintaining a steady focus despite distractions.
"You've got a natural talent for this," Harry praised, watching (Y/n) closely.
(Y/n) beamed with confidence, her years of practice paying off. "I told you, your standard existed, when I was born."
Harry playfully rolled his eyes at her.
"Keep your eyes peeled," He said, tossing an enchanted object into the air to simulate the Snitch's movements. (Y/n) followed it effortlessly, showcasing her skills as a Seeker.
After their exhilarating Quidditch lesson, (Y/n) and Harry descended gracefully to the lush, green ground of the Quidditch pitch. It was a serene night, and the velvety sky above was adorned with a myriad of shimmering stars, each one like a diamond in the celestial tapestry.
Harry, however, had a less-than-graceful landing. In a comical twist, he stumbled and tripped, his forward momentum causing him to fall face-first onto the soft grass.
(Y/n) couldn't help but burst into laughter at his clumsy landing. Her laughter rang out like tinkling bells in the stillness of the night. "Harry, that was quite the landing you had there!" she teased, her amusement dancing in her eyes.
Harry's cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and he playfully scolded, "Oh, shut up!"
But (Y/n) was in a fit of giggles, her laughter filling the empty Quidditch pitch.
"I said shut up, Sabrina."
"No," she replied, still laughing and holding her stomach, her hair cascading behind her back in the teasing wind. "That's the most stupid and–"
Harry, wanted to end her teasing so he decided to take matters into his own hands. With a sly grin, he reached out and grabbed (Y/n)'s wrist, his touch gentle yet firm. He tugged her down beside him, and she landed on top of him, their faces now just inches apart.
For a brief, electrifying moment, they locked eyes in a gaze so intense that (Y/n) felt as if she could see every detail of Harry's eyes. They were the most beautiful pair she had ever seen, with lashes so thick and long that they framed his gaze perfectly. The night air crackled with palpable tension, and Harry's gaze dipped to (Y/n)'s lips before returning to her eyes. It was a silent question, a silent desire that lingered in the air between them, silently pleading for permission to cross a line they both knew was tempting yet forbidden.
Before Harry could make a move, or before (Y/n) could succumb to her selfish desire, she took a deep breath. With unexpected strength, she pressed her hand against Harry's chest, gently pushing him down onto the ground beneath them. Settling beside him, their shoulders brushed against each other. Together, they gazed up at the vast night sky, where the stars glittered like distant promises, and the chilly air enveloped them, causing their hearts to race in synchrony.
What was that? (Y/n) wondered, her mind racing with uncertainty. Had he planned to kiss me, or was I just imagining things? why did I even think of leaning in slightly to meet his lips? To brush against them and see what it feels like? Have I gone mad? Why would I want to do that?!
Suddenly, she sat up, holding her cheeks that's still warm, her heart still racing within her chest. They had been sharing a best friend moment, and now she found herself contemplating kissing him? Moreover, he was just a fictional character, and he was younger than her for Merlin's sake! The very thought made her cringe. She chastised herself, worried that she might appear like something she wasn't.
"Am I a... a pedophile?" she whispered to herself. "I actually considered kissing him!"
And more importantly, he was with Cho Chang.
Her excitement about the idea that Harry might want to kiss her had vanished instantly. There was Cho, and despite not hearing anything concrete about their relationship, it was clear that something was between them, especially after that kiss. Now, entertaining the thought that she was enjoying the idea of Harry wanting to kiss her, like a girl secretly harboring feelings for her boy best friend, and hoping for their breakup or something – she felt even worse.
Harry, with a hint of awkwardness seeping into his voice, finally broke the uncomfortable silence that had settled between them.
"A-are you alright?" he asked.
(Y/n) didn't quite know how to respond. Her heart was still racing, but she managed a small, "Yeah."
"D-did I... er, you know, hurt you? I'm sorry if I grabbed you and--"
"No, it's alright, Harry," She turned to look at him, something caught her eye and there it was: a little patch of grass clinging to his unruly hair.
(Y/n) couldn't help but smile a little at the sight. Harry, perplexed, raised his eyebrows and asked, "What?"
With a gentle chuckle, (Y/n) pointed at his head again and said in a hesitant, small voice, "There's, er... grass on your head."
"Oh," Harry realized what she meant, and he began to awkwardly search for the grass in his hair. But it eluded his grasp. Seeing his struggle, (Y/n) shook her head and leaned in towards him, their bodies just inches apart once more. Her fingers delicately plucked the stubborn grass from his hair.
In that close proximity, she could feel Harry's eyes on her, his gaze intense. Their eyes locked once more, a connection so palpable that it sent a shiver down her spine. For a fleeting moment, she held his gaze, her heart pounding in her chest.
But as quickly as it had happened, (Y/n) averted her eyes and discreetly tossed the grass aside. She whispered softly, "It's gone now."
She heard Harry's voice, equally hushed, saying, "Thank you." It was a quiet acknowledgment of the small, intimate moment they had just shared.
Both feeling a bit awkward now, they turned their attention back to the vast night sky, stars sparkling like diamonds, as if the universe itself was giving them a subtle nudge to savor the moment and the unspoken connection between them.
"You told me that you don't want to go back to Hogwarts, right, because of everything?" (Y/n) asked after a while. From the corner of her eye, she saw Harry nod in response. "But even so, shouldn't you still want to be here, since you know..." She hesitated, unsure whether to continue, "Cho is...here?" Her statement sounded more like a question, revealing her curiosity. She didn't know why she had brought it up.
Harry didn't speak for a moment, and (Y/n) wondered about the thoughts running through his mind.
"I don't know," he finally replied. "I think I'd rather be back at Grimmauld because it's more like I don't want to leave Sirius with Kreacher. I mean, he hates Kreacher and all... and Cho... it's different."
"I understand," said (Y/n), sensing that Harry might not have a clear answer. It was typical of him.
"Anyway, did you talk to Sirius about your concerns with Kreacher?" she asked, changing the topic.
Harry's face turned serious for a moment. "I didn't. Didn't have the time for that," he admitted. "But, you know, he gave me something to use when Snape does something to me. I haven't opened it yet because I'm not planning to use it. Using it would just bring trouble for him, and it might land him back in Azkaban, and I don't want that to happen," he explained.
"He gave you something to use... like to contact him?" she asked, intrigued.
"Yeah, something like that. I don't know; I haven't really opened it, have I? But I'm not planning to use it, though."
"Oh, I see," she replied. "When did he give that to you?"
"Just earlier," Harry replied.
(Y/n) nod in response.
Shouldn't Harry try to open it to see if it's a means of contacting Sirius? If it is, he can finally be able to tell Sirius about his concerns about Kreacher or something.
She shifted her gaze towards Harry, and there he was, lost in contemplation, his hair dancing in the wind like it was whispering secrets to the night. In that moment, he seemed as though he had found a slice of peace in the midst of their tumultuous world.
Is he even aware that in the upcoming years, he'll play a pivotal role in saving the entire wizarding world? Does he realize that this world, with all its intricacies and characters, revolves around him, each piece meticulously crafted to aid him on his destiny? Am I still here when that happens?
Harry glanced at her, sensing her gaze, and a playful grin spread across his face. "Do you find me more captivating than the stars, then?" he quipped.
"You wish," said (Y/n) sarcastically.
Then the silence returned but this time it was comfortable, their eyes once again drawn to the mesmerizing night sky, where stars twinkled like secrets waiting to be uncovered.
"Someone once told me that the stars are the loved ones we've lost, and they're here every night to guide us," (Y/n) said suddenly after a whole minute of silence, the wind gently tousling their hair.
Harry looked at her, one eyebrow raised in curiosity. "Is that another reason why you like the night?" he asked.
"Well, yes," she replied with a smile.
"May I know who told you that?" asked Harry curiously.
"Why?"
"I've never heard of that before, until now."
"Really?" (Y/n) said in disbelief.
"Yeah, so I'm curious. Who told you?"
Harry's curiosity only deepened. "I've never heard it before, until now."
A secret smile tugged at her lips. "Well, she's... quite special to me, but you don't know her and you'd probably think it's a bit silly."
"That makes a lot more sense than some of the things Luna Lovegood says," Harry replied, prompting a soft chuckle from (Y/n).
"she's nice, you know." She said.
"Never said she wasn't. Besides, being nice doesn't stop her from being...odd."
"Alright then."
As the night wrapped them in silence, Harry broke it gently. "Is she among those stars now, the person who shared this with you?"
(Y/n) turned her gaze toward the shimmering night sky, contemplating each star's distant glow. Her mother, however, was not among them; she belonged to another world - the real world.
"Yeah," she murmured, a wistful note in her voice. "I like to think she's one of those stars now, watching over me."
(Y/n) couldn't fathom why Harry didn't follow up with more questions. Instead, he asked, "Does that person like to dance?"
His unexpected question prompted (Y/n) to look at him, her eyes filled with confusion. "What do you mean?" she asked, genuinely perplexed.
Harry explained, "I mean, does she enjoy dancing?"
A soft, nostalgic smile tugged at (Y/n)'s lips as she recollected those cherished memories. "Oh, yes," she replied warmly. "She absolutely loved to dance. I remember her telling me about a time when she danced in the rain after her night shift of work—back when she was here at Hogwarts. She was such a fun-loving girl," (Y/n) mused, the bittersweet recollection of her mother dancing in the rain as a young woman causing a pang of longing in her heart.
Harry nodded understandingly, his curiosity gentle and compassionate. "She seemed really special to you. Is she a cousin? From which side?" he inquired, his eyes filled with empathy.
In that moment, (Y/n) found herself at a loss for words. She gazed at Harry and slowly nod her head. "She...she was a cousin of mine and Ron's, from father's side." she finally answered. "She was a wonderful person, you know. I wish you had the chance to meet her."
Harry's curiosity remained unabated. "I wish I could have met her too. Did she teach you how to dance?" he asked, surprising (Y/n) with yet another question. It seemed Harry wasn't done inquiring after all.
"N-no," she replied, her voice tinged with a hint of sadness. "You could tell that I was terrible at dancing." Her mother hadn't had the opportunity to teach her how to dance; life had been too busy, and before they could create more cherished memories, her mother had passed away.
Harry nodded again,"I'm guessing she was older than you?" he ventured, to which (Y/n) nodded in confirmation.
His curiosity persisted. "Did she ever see you dance before?" he asked, his tone soft and understanding.
(Y/n) hesitated for a moment, her mind searching for a memory that seemed just out of reach. "I don't know," she admitted, a hint of regret in her voice. "I can't remember. I... I forgot."
"It doesn't matter if you can't remember anyway," Harry reassured her, his voice gentle. "Why are you asking anyway?" she inquired, curious about his sudden interest.
"Oh, it's because," Harry rose from the grass, brushing off his pants, "we're going to show her how you dance," he explained, a warm smile gracing his lips. "Are you up for another dance with me? I know I'm terrible, but since your cousin is watching us right now, we need to show her," he suggested, extending his hand toward her.
(Y/n)'s heart felt a mix of ache and appreciation as she met Harry's kind and warm gaze. She longed to tell him the truth, to reveal that she wasn't the real Sabrina, that she wasn't from this world, and to cry in his arms. But she knew she couldn't.
"All right then," she accepted his hand, and Harry pulled her up.
Harry guided (Y/n) through the simple steps of a dance. His hand rested gently on her waist, while hers found its place on his shoulder. Their movements were hesitant at first, but as the music of the night surrounded them, they gradually found their rhythm.
They swayed and twirled together, their eyes locked onto each other's. In that moment, nothing else existed but the two of them, lost in the timeless beauty of the night. The world faded away, and all that remained was the soft music of the night and the warmth of their shared smiles.
With each step, they moved in harmony, their hearts beating in time with the enchanting dance. Harry's eyes held a depth of emotion that spoke of friendship, understanding, and something more, while (Y/n)'s gaze mirrored the same sentiments.
They didn't need words; their hearts and eyes conveyed everything. It was a moment suspended in time, a moment where the world paused to let them enjoy the simple pleasure of each other's company, under the watchful eyes of the stars.
"Thank you, Harry," (Y/n) whispered as they finished their dance. Harry's gaze remained fixed on her, his hand still resting on her waist and her hand on his shoulder.
"You're welcome," he replied, his eyes shifting to the sky above. "I hope we met your standards for dancing," he added with a playful grin.
A soft chuckle escaped (Y/n), her heart brimming with emotions that threatened to spill over. She wanted to cry because of the overwhelming feelings Harry stirred within her, but she held herself back.
As they locked eyes once more, Harry's smile gradually faded into concern when he noticed the teary shimmer in her eyes. "A-are you alright?" he asked, his alarm evident.
(Y/n) nodded, her voice tender. "Yes, I am, just...happy," she admitted. To ease Harry's worries, she pulled him into a warm hug, her arms encircling his neck. His familiar scent enveloped her, and without a second thought, Harry reciprocated, holding her close in the embrace of the night.
After they pulled away from their heartfelt embrace, Harry gazed at (Y/n) for a few lingering seconds. Then, as if suddenly remembering something important, he began to fumble with his pockets, searching for something. (Y/n) watched him with curiosity as he continued his search.
Finally, after a few moments, Harry triumphantly retrieved a small blue box from his pocket. His cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and excitement. "I...I...about your Christmas present," he stammered, "I hope you didn't think I forgot about it. I just...I just didn't know how to give this to you, and then I got an idea, you know, but anyway, here."
With a warm smile, he handed the blue box to (Y/n), and her heart melted. She had briefly believed that Harry had forgotten to give her a Christmas present, thinking she wasn't really important to him. But in that moment, she realized that wasn't the case at all.
As (Y/n) accepted the small blue box from Harry, her fingers trembling with anticipation, she couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement. She carefully opened the box, revealing the exquisite silver necklace inside, with a golden snitch delicately hanging from the chain.
She was utterly shocked by its beauty. Never before had someone given her something so elegant and meaningful. Her eyes widened in awe as she turned to look at Harry, her voice filled with genuine excitement. "This is so beautiful, Harry! And it has the snitch as the pendant!" Her earlier doubts and worries had vanished, replaced by pure delight.
Harry's nerves seemed to dissipate as he heard her enthusiastic response. "Did you like it?" he asked nervously, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.
"What do you mean, 'like it'? I love it!" she exclaimed, carefully taking the necklace out of the box and examining it with admiration.
Harry watched as (Y/n) admired the necklace with a contented smile. He couldn't help but feel a sense of relief and satisfaction knowing that she appreciated his gift.
"Here, let me put it on for you," Harry offered, his voice gentle and warm. He carefully took the delicate chain and moved closer to (Y/n). As he stood behind her, his fingers brushed lightly against her skin, sending a shiver down her spine.
The air around them seemed to crackle with an unspoken tension. Harry's hands, though steady, felt slightly trembling as he fastened the necklace. His proximity and the intimacy of the moment were not lost on either of them.
(Y/n) held her breath, feeling the warmth of Harry's body radiating through her as he worked on the clasp. Their hearts beat in unison, and time seemed to stand still.
Harry finished fastening the necklace around (Y/n)'s neck, he couldn't help but feel the electricity in the air. Their eyes locked in the reflection of the starry night, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to fade away.
Breaking the silence, Harry spoke softly, "You know, I chose the snitch as the pendant because I noticed you've been starting to like Quidditch more than books lately." His voice held a hint of a smile.
(Y/n) turned to him, her eyes sparkling with gratitude and affection. Her smile was radiant as she placed a hand over the snitch pendant, feeling its smooth surface beneath her fingertips. "Harry, I love it so much," she said earnestly, her heart brimming with warmth. "Thank you so much. It's perfect."
Harry's own smile widened at her words, relieved and delighted that he had chosen a gift that meant so much to her. "You're welcome," he replied, his eyes reflecting the starlight. In that moment, they both knew that this night, under the canopy of stars, was something they would cherish forever.
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Dear Diary,
Tonight, under the starry sky, I felt closer to Harry than ever before. I can't help but wonder where this path will lead us, but I'm excited and scared to find out.
With gratitude and a heart full of emotions,
(Y/n)