the lucky one

simple things

Miranda and Harry race through Hogwarts, searching for Ron and Hermione, hands still clasped. Neither of them are going to let go. If she could, Miranda would never let go of Harry's hand again. Hopefully, she won't have to.

"They're probably in the Chamber," Harry fills her in hurriedly, darting into the second floor girl's lavatory and standing before the ceramic sink. Miranda nearly smiles, he needn't worry about catching her up.

"For the Basilisk fangs?" inquires Miranda, already knowing the answer. "You need them to destroy the Horcrux."

"Well— yes..." frowns Harry, suspicious and slightly shell shocked. "But how did you know all that?"

Miranda shoots him a cheeky smirk, "I know a lot more than you think Potter."

Harry simply kisses her, fingertips feathering along her ribcage. Miranda has no idea how she managed without him for so long. The thought of losing him again was too much to bear. "When we get out of here you have to tell me how you did that." He kisses her again, and Miranda's stomach drops violently at his use of the word when. She really does know more that he can ever imagine.

Being near him again only intensifies her raging emotions, every facet of their relationship bubbling to the surface. Each kiss they share as the fumble blindly through the darkness, each sideways glance and grin he throws her way— it feels like the last. Like the little moments are slipping away faster and faster  before she has a chance to capture them.

Harry opens the passage to the Chamber using his Parseltongue abilities. Miranda watches in pure awe, "Is it concerning that I find that hot?"

Harry grins, his mouth closing over hers sweetly, "Not at all."

They splash through puddles, hems of their pants growing damp until they finally reach the end, coming upon the huge stone carving of Salazar Slytherin, the basilisks dead corpse lying right where it had been since second year. Ron and Hermione are consumed in a passionate lip lock, the fangs on the floor as if they had collided into each other with such force that everything else in the vicinity flew away. Miranda and Harry are both sporting wide smiles as the watch their two best friends finally, and aggressively make out.

"Finally," sighs Miranda happily.

"I know right," Harry slides a secure arm around her waist, the two of them patiently waiting for the kiss to end.

It doesn't.

Harry is eventually forced to interrupt. "Ron! Hermione!" he attempts to get their attention to no avail, but they do not break apart. Don't even flinch.

Miranda gives it a go, waving her arms, "Weasley, hello! Weasley! Hermione, over here!" Nothing. Not one sign that Ron or Hermione have registered their presence. It's like Miranda and Harry aren't even there.

"OI THERE'S A WAR GOING ON!!!" Harry bellows loudly, his voice echoing throughout the high ceilings.

Finally, Ron and Hermione step away from each other, both extremely red in the face. Miranda laughs aloud, "I thought it would never end, c'mon guys get your priorities straight." She teases, Ron and Hermione picking up their belongings and walking towards them.

Ron's face is still flaming with evident embarrassment, and perhaps a little pride. "Whatever McGonagall," he scoffs. "Don't act like you and Harry weren't just snogging your bloody arses off right before this."

Miranda kicks him sharply in the shin, while Harry shrugs with a smug expression, "Maybe we were, maybe we weren't."

"Please," Ron rolls his eyes, "you've got your snogging face on, mate."