apples and scented candles • h.potter ✓

• thirty one •

Harry was determined to make up for how he had treated Corben even though Corben insisted that there was no need and that he had never been mad at him.

"Don't even dare to apologize to me again, Harry," he threatened, brandishing his finger in the most adorable manner. He had snuck out of his training and come into his office, and seemed to immediately regret his decision. "And do not even think of doing something special for me. I just want us to act like a normal couple."

Harry smiled sweetly. "But I wasn't thinking of doing anything special," he said. Corben stood on the other side of the table, arms crossed in front of him. "I was thinking we would go out for ice cream, and then we could go to my place and watch some movies. I've bought some new horror movies, but I suppose you don't want that. That's fine. I'll go visit Andromeda and Teddy. He's been dying to show me some of his new books."

He could see the stubbornness in Corben's face crumble, though he was trying his very best to put up a stern expression. He watched in satisfaction and smiled triumphantly when Corben finally unwound his arms and looked at him with defeat. "What movies did you get?"

Next weekend, Harry woke up early, even before his alarm went off. He leapt out of bed and pulled back the curtains. It was still quite dark out, but it didn't matter. He was excited to spend the rest of the day with Corben. They had gone around a month without talking to or even seeing each other, and even though Corben insisted against it, he still blamed himself.

He was unfair to Corben and he knew he shouldn't have said such awful things to him, especially in the heat of the moment. He had the tendency to lose his temper; he had done so in school too, unleashing his emotions upon Ron and Hermione. It was terribly unfair and he knew it was his own fault.

Harry had gone to bed the night before planning the day with Corben. He fell asleep with his head full of ideas, and as he dressed up he continued to run his ideas through his mind, cutting them, adding to them, making sure that the day ahead of them would be perfect. He even planned what he would say to Corben.

Light fluttered into the room just as he finished dressing up. He glanced at the watch on his hand. There was still an hour left before he was to meet up with Corben. Rather unnecessarily, he checked himself at the mirror. As always, his hair stuck up all over the place, but he thought he didn't look bad. He sat down on his bed, crossed his legs, then uncrossed them again. He stood up. He began to pace the room. When the air began to suffocate him, he went into the living room and sat on the sofa. He was able to sit still for only half a minute before he shot up again.

His chest felt tight. He wasn't able to pinpoint the source of his discomfort. He had never felt this nervous before, especially not before going on a date with Corben. Corben was always so free and spontaneous that he need never feel uncomfortable around him.

So what was different?

Eventually, it was time. He looked into the mirror again, fruitlessly patting his hair. He took off his glasses and wiped the lenses with a piece of cloth, even though he had cleaned them thoroughly last night and they were as clear as crystals. When he could find no more reason to stall, he finally took off.

He hadn't told Corben what they were going to do for their date. He had simply mentioned the time he would come to pick him up, wanting the day to be a surprise for him.

He recited the words he had planned to say to him (he was himself confused as to why he had prepared a script - he had never done it before and he felt foolish) but all his extensive plans simply spread their wings and took off into the air when Corben opened the door and stood before him.

"Hi - uh," he stammered, feeling increasingly foolish. He stared at Corben and hunted through his entire vocabulary in search of a word that would perfectly capture the radiance in his features, the perfect arch of his eyebrows, the smile shining on his face that caused Harry's chest to tighten longingly. Corben was dressed in dark green robes; so dark it was almost black. But with each of his movements, the fabric shimmered softly, and tiny green dots glittered as it caught the light coming from inside the house. How was he supposed to describe the intense fluttering inside his stomach, his suddenly and weirdly sweaty palms? What word could there possibly be to describe all of these and more?