EXIT

33. SOFT GREY

33. SOFT GREY

The public display of the 'peace' Granger and I have made with each other is not an active choice by either of us.

Rather, it creeps in. Like the soft grey moonlight that's recently been pouring into my sleeping quarters through the no longer curtained magical window. Or like the tidewater of the North Sea that lapped in gentle waves against the gritty sea shore of the Isle of Sheppey on the night of our Greyback mission. Or like the glistening morning dew on the Apparition meadow near Box Hill.

Although we spend almost every spare minute together, shagging on every imaginable surface of our sleeping quarters and sitting for hours on the roof of St Mungo's talking in whispers about anything and everything, the true nature of our relationship remains hidden from the other Resistance fighters for a few more days.

The revelation happens step by step, unconsciously, and (funnily enough) in exactly seven stages. That seems to be our thing.

***

On Day One, the Sunday after our day watch in Hogsmeade, Granger enters the dining hall where I'm already seated at the usual table with Ginny and Blaise.

Granger only discovers us when she steps away from the buffet with a plate in her hand. Her gaze darts to me, then to Ginny and Blaise, and finally to the empty seat next to me. And since I think I know what's on her mind, I give her an encouraging, if slightly crooked, smile by lifting the left corner of my mouth. She takes a deep breath, squares her shoulders and makes her way over to us.

As she sinks onto the bench next to me, Ginny falls silent for a moment, but then recovers and continues her monologue about Smith's annoying behaviour during the last watch relief, as if it's not at all unusual for Granger to seek our company at dinner.

My gaze falls on her hand, which is shaking slightly, and I adjust my sitting position so that my knee lightly touches her thigh. Take it easy, love. I am here. All is well. I'm pleased to see that, probably due to my reassurance, the tension in her shoulders eases.

She's silent for most of the meal, but eventually Blaise asks her a trivial question and she actually answers with a small smile. After that, a completely normal conversation develops, and Ginny in particular beams a little more with every word Granger speaks.

As she pushes her empty plate away and I see Blaise's stunned look, I realise that it's probably the first time he's seen her eat a full meal. I'm not prepared for the feelings that this thought evokes in me.

I'm proud of Granger. Proud because she overcame her inhibitions. Because she gave in to the urge to be near me. Because she's finally trying to break out of her cell.

Brave witch.

***

On Day Two, Monday, I find myself with Potter and Granger in the command centre, where we carefully go over every single blueprint of the Manor I've drafted over the past few months.

Granger is seated at the huge, circular conference table, studying the parchments intently, her brow furrowed in concentration. I'm right behind her, one arm resting casually on the back of her chair, ready to answer her myriad questions. Potter, on the other hand, is sitting across from us, watching us with a blank expression on his face.

Ever since he found out we don't even have two weeks left to prepare for the day at the Manor, he's been tense and often absent-minded. I can understand that. The outcome of the mission is more than uncertain and it's not unlikely that we will all pay for it with our lives. But he knew that day would come. We all knew. And now we have to make the best of it, it's as simple as that.