Soft Repose

Soft Repose

By Caina Q. Fuller

     I will meet you in some

     place where the light lends

     itself to soft repose

     I will let you undress me

     but I warn you-I have thorns

     like any rose.

     -Jewel Break Me

Something was missing in his life. Something deep, meaningful, natural, and primal.

Harry studied the beautiful Mandarin ducks that Grubbly-Plank had brought in from her last tour of . Two of them nestled in the grass nearby, facing one another and clicking their beaks lovingly together.

Harry’s attention was pulled away from the ducks by a group of girls fawning over a unicorn and her foal, followed closely by the sound of a familiar gait from behind him. He wasn’t surprised when Hermione came to rest beside him, her robes interlocking with his. Her body heat warmed him on this chilly fall morning.

“Beautiful ducks,” she said quietly, so that only Harry could hear. It was often the case with them, that they spoke so softly to one another. “Mandarin, aren’t they?”

“I think so, yes,” Harry said. He studied Hermione’s profile, sharing a comfortable silence with her, but a heavy sigh soon escaped him.

“What’s the matter,” she said. It was a statement, not a question. Harry grinned. It was good to have someone in his life who understood him so deeply that she could interpret the deep meanings of even a sigh.

“I’ve got the feeling that something’s missing,” Harry said, watching the ducks move close together against the wind. A hard breeze blew up, and he wrapped an arm around her. Hermione rested against him, and Harry leaned his cheek against the top of her head, taking in the pleasant clean scent of her hair. “I suppose I’m missing Sirius.”

“We all miss Sirius,” Hermione replied.

Grubbly-Plank dismissed the class as rain clouds built up in the sky. They turned and headed back to the castle as the clouds blotted out the cool rays of the sun.

“It’s going to rain,” they said in unison. They chuckled easily and disappeared into the darkness of the castle. Harry stopped before Professor Vector’s classroom and let go of Hermione’s hand.

“I’m helping Professor McGonagall grade her third year exams this evening. She fell behind while she was ill this summer.”

“What time will you be finished?” Harry asked.

She shrugged. “Around eight, I suppose.”

“I’ll stop by her office and walk with you back to the common room.”

“Good. I’ll see you then,” she said, and disappeared into the classroom for her Arithmancy lesson. Harry continued on to Trelawney’s room, dreading another hour of her predicting his early, gruesome demise.

~~~

Professor Trelawney droned on about the poor state of their dream diaries and then informed them they would be revisiting palmistry in their next class. As Trelawney moved away, saying that Harry would not see the next lesson because he would be struck by lightning and his life would change forever, he overheard Dean speaking with Seamus about an encounter he’d had with Marietta Edgecombe in a broom closet on the second floor.

As he went on, going into more and more naughty detail about certain parts of ’s anatomy, images of Hermione studying the Mandarin ducks earlier that morning played through his mind. He vividly recalled the smell of her hair as they’d waited for Grubbly-Plank to dismiss the class.

~~~

Herbology, the last class of the day, finally came to an end. Harry watched Hermione leave to go to Professor McGonagall’s class, and stopped beside a tray of white and red roses. Knowing how much Hermione loved roses, he took out a pair of sheers and snipped off the largest one of each color, immediately putting a replenishing charm onto them to keep them from wilting. After clipping off the thorns, he bound them together and left the nursery.

He returned with Ron to the Gryffindor common room where they laid out their homework. They didn’t have much, which was a welcome break from the previous year when they’d been swamped with homework in preparation for their O.W.L’s.

Rain began to pound the common room windows and Harry caught Ron staring out of them with a dreamy expression on his face.

“Alright?”

Ron looked around at him, grinning. “I have a secret. I’m not supposed to tell but it’s big.”

“You can tell me,” Harry said, grinning. “I won’t say anything, I promise.”

Ron looked around to make sure no one was listening in. “I did it,” Ron said simply, as if that explained everything.

Harry stared at him. “Did what?”

“It,” Ron said, emphasizing the word. “I shagged someone last night. I’ve got a girlfriend mate!”

“Who did you shag?” Harry asked briskly, his heart pounding in his chest, though he didn’t know why.

“You promise not to tell? Or laugh?”

“I said I wouldn’t,” Harry said, a bit more harshly than he’d intended. Ron looked nervous and confused, as if he didn’t understand why Harry wasn’t overjoyed for him.

“Luna Lovegood.”

Harry sighed. A wave of relief washed over him so powerfully he felt lightheaded, like he could float right out of the room.  His heart began to settle into a normal rhythm.

“So that’s where you disappeared to? Hermione and I were wondering why you didn’t show up for dinner.” Harry said, a genuine smile playing at his lips.

“Yeah. It happened last night when we came back from Quidditch practice. She told me she needed help getting something in a broom closet and then…it happened.”

Harry laughed. “Good on you Ron. Luna’s a good girl.”

“Yeah, she is. I’m seeing her again tonight. That’s why I want to get this stupid essay finished.” Ron bent over his paper. “Being in love is the best Harry. You should try it sometime. Especially the sex!”

Sex.

It hit Harry then. That’s what was missing in his life. Not necessarily sex, but physical intimacy. This was the deep, natural, primal thing he’d been longing for. The closest he’d ever come was snogging a weeping Cho Chang eight months before in the Room of Requirement.

But finding the right girl would take time and the idea of waiting and searching for someone frustrated him. As the evening wore on, he realized how anxious he was for to arrive. He couldn’t wait to give Hermione the roses. He wanted to see that happy smile on her face that she always got when he gave her something she genuinely enjoyed.

When arrived, he went down to pick her up, knowing he would arrive early. He waited in the hall outside McGonagall’s office as time dragged slowly on, and just a few minutes before eight she emerged, carrying her quill and swinging her schoolbag over her arm.

“Harry. Hope you didn’t wait long?”

“Only about ten minutes,” he replied. He held up the roses for her and she beamed.

“Oh, Harry, they’re beautiful! I love them!” She took the roses but a thorn that Harry had missed pricked his finger and he hissed. She saw the blood well up on his finger and pulled him toward the window. “Let me take a look at that. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright. It’s only a small wound.” He watched her guilty face as she took her handkerchief and pressed it tightly to his thumb. A bolt of lightning flashed outside, lighting her face clearly.

There was a break in the clouds and for a brief moment, Hermione’s face was bathed in pale moonlight. She was practically glowing before him. His heart swelled so much he feared it would burst in his chest. He realized that Trelawney had been right. He had been struck by lightning.

How had he gone all these years without seeing her beauty? How had he loved her so deeply, without realizing that all this time he’d been in love with her?

“Hermione…” he whispered thickly. Something in his voice caught her attention. She looked up, and another bolt of lightning flashed, reflected in her eyes.

“Harry…”

“I love you, you know. I always have.”

“I know. I love you too.”

He wrapped his hands around her back and pulled her close, their lips met in a soft, sweet kiss. It was such a natural thing to do. He felt, for the first time in his life, truly complete. He felt cocooned in her arms.

Harry had finally found a place to call home.