Together (A Harry Potter love story) 3

8

MILLIES POV

I furrowed my eyebrows, exchanging a hesitant look with Mione as everyone else clapped their hands to their mouths in horror.

"The what?" said Harry.

"The Grim, my dear, the Grim!" Professor Trelawney cried, looking shocked that Harry hadn't understood. "The giant, spectral dog that haunts churchyards! My dear boy, it is an omen - the worst omen - of death!"

Everyone was looking at Harry; everyone except me, who had got up and moved around to the back of Professor Trelawney's chair.

"I don't think it looks like a Grim," I said flatly.

Trelawney surveyed me with mounting dislike, but I didn't care - the dislike was neutral.

"You'll forgive me for saying so, my dear-"

"I won't," I interrupted. The Professor looked at me with her jaw clenched.

"I perceive very little aura around you. Very little receptivity to the resonances of the future."

I frowned. "What does receptivity mean?"

Trelawney raised her eyebrows at me.

Meanwhile, Seamus was tilting his head from side to side.

"It looks like a Grim if you do this," he said, with his eyes almost shut, "but it looks more like a donkey from here." He leant to the left.

"When you've all finished deciding whether I'm going to die or not!" Harry said, taking me by surprise. I walked away from Trelawney and sat myself down on Harry's chair, nudging him over so we could share it.

"It's bullshit," I muttered, leaning my head up to his ear, "she's bullshit."

Harry placed one of his hands on my knee, and my stomach lurched. I looked away from the boy, hoping no one could see my forming blush.

"Ah, young love." Trelawny sighed as the class looked between Harry and I. "He will die, and you, dear, will be heartbroken."

Harry patted my knee awkwardly, before removing his warm touch completely. I kept my eyes on the table, only looking up to send glares to Professor Trelawney.

"I think we will leave the lesson here for today," she said, in her mistiest voice. "Yes...please pack away your things..."

I quickly stuffed my books into my bag and left alone, descending Professor Trelawney's ladder and the winding staircase, then set off for Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration lesson.

My head hurt. Harry James Potter, the popular boy who everyone liked. The Gryffindor seeker who everyone admired. The Boy who Lived who everyone was grateful for. The idiot who was my best friend - I liked him, that was for sure. I liked his messy, brown hair that he so desperately tried to flatten all the time; I liked his cheeky lop-sided grin that sometimes made me want to punch him in the face; I liked his arrogant remarks that made me laugh so much; I liked him. I always wanted to be around him. His presence brought me happiness and peace. With him by my side, I felt strong and powerful. I could trust him with anything and everything, and I knew he would not tell a single soul. Throughout the past couple of years, I have had multiple boys at my feet, but I had never done anything about it - something always stopped me. Someone. Who? Now I finally knew the answer - Harry.

I arrived at Transfiguration and chose a seat right at the back of the classroom. I slumped down in my chair, staring at the ceiling. I barely even noticed when the rest of the class came in and sat down. Only did I snap out of my gaze when I heard a familiar voice.