𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 | 𝐡. 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

𝟏𝟑𝟕 - 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥

𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙮 𝙬𝙤𝙠𝙚 𝙪𝙥 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙛 𝙊𝙥𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙖'𝙨 𝙡𝙞𝙥𝙨 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙩 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙤𝙬𝙣, he knew it could only be hers as the smell of her perfume filled his nose and he instinctively leaned into it, with his eyes closed he knew where to find her waist to pull her into his bed, tucking her into himself as he continued to cuddle her.

"What time is it?" he whispered into her cheek as she pulled the covers back over them.

"It's just after midnight, everyone else is asleep." she told him, feeling her lips press lightly against his own again.

"You taste like treacle," he murmured into her lips.

"One of your very many treats," she whispered, "Here, your first present."

He cracked his eyes open to see the blurry image of Ophelia holding a cupcake with a single golden candle in it that was lit and flickering delicately with their breaths, "You've got a cake later but I thought about just giving you this first." she whispered.

Even blurry she's good-looking, he recalled as he looked up at her.

"Happy Birthday Harry." she whispered with her charming smile as she brought the cupcake a bit closer to him which only illuminated her beauty even more, he looked between her deep honey pot eyes and the flame dancing lightly, and without a moment's hesitation blew it out even though he knew he didn't have to wait for his wish to come true this time.

She took the candle out and put it aside as he took a large bite out of the cupcake which was that perfect balance of sweet and moist and it was still warm in his hand, he had to stop himself from letting out the moan that rose to the back of his throat because this was probably the best cupcake he had ever had the pleasure of indulging himself in.

He looked down at her as he finished the last delicious morsel, looking for seconds, "I don't see your birthday suit."

"Didn't think you'd appreciate Ron catching a glimpse of your morning glory when he woke up." said Ophelia under her breath as he laughed, "He's catatonic at the moment."

He smiled tiredly, "C'mere." he brought her into his chest his arms secured around her as he pressed a lopsided kiss to her temple, "I could get used to you waking me up like that, it should be my birthday more often."

"Well you should go back to sleep so you're able to enjoy your birthday well rested," she told him but he was already asleep.

He was walking along a mountain road in the cool blue light of dawn. Far below, swathed in mist, was the shadow of a small town. Was the man he sought down there, the man he needed so badly he could think of little else, the man who held the answer, the answer to his problem.

"Oi, wake up."

Harry opened his eyes. He was lying again on the camp bed in Ron's dingy attic room with Ophelia laying ontop of his chest sound asleep, he was careful not to move an inch to disturb her. The sun had not yet risen and the room was still shadowy. Pigwidgeon was asleep with his head under his tiny wing. The scar on Harry's forehead was prickling.

"You were muttering in your sleep." whispered Ron, also conscious of Phee's sleep.

"Was I?"

"Yeah. 'Gregorovitch.' You kept saying 'Gregorovitch.'"

Harry was not wearing his glasses; Ron's face appeared slightly blurred.

"Who's Gregorovitch?"

"I dunno, do I? You were the one saying it."