Diana Krum, Viktor Krum's half-sister and nearly as popular as him, moved to England in 1991 with her aunt and uncle to start her studies at Hogwarts. During her second year, she met Ginny Weasley, who told her about the crush she had on Harry Potte...
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'Not trying to fall in love, but we did like children running'
☽︎•☾︎
"Happy New Year, darling,"
Diana's stomach did a backflip when she heard the voice behind her, from the other side of the room. She turned around slowly, thinking it couldn't be possible; thinking there was no chance it was...
"Harry"
"Avoiding me again, aren't you?" he asked.
He was leaning against the window, his arms crossed on his chest, his jaw slightly clenched. He looked angry, and – for once – she could understand why.
It was obvious that she had not written him – or anyone at all – while she was in Bulgaria. Fairly, she couldn't really remember what had happened there; she could only picture his brother welcoming her and then saying goodbye to her, apart from the conversation they had had in her bedroom that morning.
"I am not avoiding you," replied Diana, not looking at Harry, who was still waiting for an answer. "I just don't have the time to—"
"To what exactly, Diana? To admit that you have other feelings apart from hatred towards me?"
Diana didn't say a word. She was way too nervous and ashamed to think of something to say to him, especially after everything that has happened between them.
But she shouldn't be that ashamed. It had been just a kiss, hadn't it? Just a little snog that could have been way longer had it not been for Ginny – well, correctly speaking, for her mother – entering the room with no warning and ruining the moment.
"Diana, darling," said Harry, approaching her. She let him take her hands in his, but she didn't bother to move a single muscle. "Look at me"
She obeyed. His emerald eyes connected with hers, but soon travelled to her lips. Her eyes did the same, remembering how his lips felt, how he tasted. Wondering if he was going to kiss her again, if he would kiss her back if she just stood on her tip toes and connected their mouths.
"Where do we stand at now?" Harry asked her.
He looked desperate. Worried, as if he needed the answer badly. Not angry at all.
"I don't know," said Diana, sighing.
"Diana," he muttered, "I like you. Quite a lot, even though you make me angry most of the time," he softly chuckled. "And I can tell that you like me too. So what are we, Diana?"
She shrugged, "Friends?"
Harry laughed ironically, "You know we were never really friends, darling"
"Well, what do you want me to do, then? What do you want me to say?"
