This Night is Mine
Chapter 5- A Change of Seasons
Hermione watched him sleep. His dark head lay on her breast, his strong arm was flung over her bare abdomen. The delicacy of the golden leaves blown into contact with his hard muscles, the cheery brightness of them against his fading summer tan, made her itch to reach out and touch his skin again. Not in a sexual way, but to stroke, to caress, to love.
Her body felt strange to her, full of unfamiliar lethargy and dim aches. The aches were satisfying, like she had earned them, but they were still strange. There was still a vague pulsing between her legs, more a memory of an orgasm than an aftershock, and she thought that if she weren't feeling so pleasantly exhausted she might see about waking Harry and stoking it back up into the intense heat they had just experienced.
Hermione raised herself slightly and kissed the top of Harry's head, smiling as his wild hair brushed against her lips. She would like to stay here forever, to be Harry's lover, to give him her love and not just her body, and know that he would welcome it. But even now the distance beat of music from the Great Hall reminded her that this wasn't real life. This was a moment out of time, and it would have repercussions. She sighed and leaned back, shifting slightly against the rock. Now that she could think again, she figured that Harry must have placed a Cushioning Charm on it, like what the Quidditch players put on their broomsticks, because it felt unnaturally comfortable. She looked at his face, her heart swelling with affection. He was such a thoughtful person. He never thought of himself, only of everyone else.
As gently as she could, Hermione eased her arm out from under Harry. He frowned in his sleep as she pulled away. Scooting through the golden leaves to the edge of the rock, Hermione slipped off her boots, her garter belt, and her silk stockings, until she was entirely naked. She smiled as she remembered how neither of them could wait for her to get all her clothes off, they had been so desperate for each other. She stood and walked gingerly to the edge of the magical lake, feeling the stone floor beneath her bare feet, even while she was watching the illusion of water lapping around them. The magical breeze blew across her body and she leaned her head back, loving the feel of the air on her skin.
She stayed there a long moment, entirely content. Whatever happened when they left this enchanted place, whatever was their fate, she would cherish the memory of this night. She would remember every sensation, every demand, every touch, and even if Harry didn't want to be her lover any more, this night would last forever in her heart.
She heard a soft noise behind her, but didn't look back. A moment later, Harry stood behind her, his big hands on her hips, drawing her back against him. She gladly leaned back against him and closed her eyes. She had dreamt of this, standing by the lake, bathed in the warm breeze, naked and unembarrassed with the man she loved. She should have realized then that that man would be Harry.
"What are you doing?" he murmured in her ear.
Hermione didn't open her eyes, but she smiled and shrugged lightly. "Feeling the breeze. Thinking. Remembering."
"I've been thinking, too," Harry said.
"Have you?" Hermione said.
"Yeah," he said. "I was thinking that we should stay here forever."
Hermione laughed. "So was I. I wish we could."
Harry was silent for a moment, then asked hesitantly, "Are you all right, Hermione? I wasn't…" She could feel his skin grow hot, and wondered what was embarrassing him. "I should have been more gentle. I should have gone slower, or…I don't know…" He buried his face in her hair.
Hermione spun around in his arms so that she was facing him. She took his face in both her hands and forced him to look at her. "I'm perfect, Harry. It was perfect. I didn't know something could feel so good. Please, don't be sorry, I couldn't bear it!"
Harry gave a rueful laugh and shook his head. "I'm not sorry. That was the best thing that ever happened to me. You're so beautiful, Hermione, I can't believe you wanted to be with me."
"I did," she said. "I do."
Harry sighed and wrapped his arms around her, stroking his hands up and down her back. "Do you think we should go back?"
"I don't know," Hermione said. "I can still hear the music, so the dance is still going on. Maybe we can stay a little bit."
"Mmmmm…" Harry said. His mouth was right next to her ear and his voice vibrated through her. She closed her eyes and rested her cheek against his broad chest. Without thinking about it, she turned her head and began to kiss the smooth skin, opening her mouth and tasting it. A small shudder went through Harry's body, but his hands didn't lose their gentle rhythm on her back. She worked her mouth back and forth across his chest and shoulders, licking and biting, and occasionally sucking hard enough to leave small hickeys on the skin. After a while she felt him begin to stir against her.
Finally one of his hands left her back and buried itself in her hair. He pulled her head back and began to plant wet, open mouthed kisses on her neck, sucking and biting at the skin as she had done to him. Slowly he kissed every inch of her skin, licking and tasting it, until her breath was coming fast. He dropped to his knees and began to kiss her shoulders, licking down to her chest and between her breasts, kissing and biting down the sensitive inside of her arms, each in its turn, until she shivered. Turning his head, he kissed across her belly and down the outside of her hip. Then, so suddenly she gasped, he stood and caught her up in his arms and carried her over to the rock on which they had been laying before.
Harry laid her gently down, and had to clench his jaw against the urge to throw himself on top of her and plunge himself between her legs. He was going to do it right this time, he was going to treat her like she was special, he was not going to lose control like before. Hermione stretched her arms above her head, accentuating her slender waist and her firm breasts, and Harry's resolve not to lose control nearly slipped beyond his grasp. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then opened them to find Hermione smirking at him. Of course she knew what he was thinking, he thought, mentally rolling his eyes. She knew everything about him.
But he was still learning things about her. He lay alongside her legs and began to rub her thighs, stroking the skin along the inside and kissing her pelvis and belly again.
"I like this belly ring," he said, "but it doesn't seem like something you'd do…" He trailed off, kissing her smooth skin from her navel down to the tops of her legs. As his hands worked her inner thighs, she began to squirm, and Harry knew she was seeking a more intimate touch. He wasn't quite ready to give it to her, though. He was trying to go slowly, after all. Besides, he loved the idea that he could make her squirm.
"I just…" Hermione said breathlessly, "I was just feeling rather wild that day, is all…"
"What day was that?" Harry asked.
"The day you beat up Ron," Hermione said, trying to scoot her body down toward his mouth. But at that moment, Harry moved to a sitting position, and pulled one of her legs up. Her skin was so smooth, he rubbed it with his unshaven cheek, and she moaned. He kissed the place behind her knee, and held her firmly in place when she tried to turn to press herself closer to him.
"I was feeling pretty wild that day, too," Harry commented. "I'd do it again, Hermione. I won't stand for anyone hurting you."
"I know," she breathed. "I feel the same way…Oh, God, Harry…" Harry had just bitten the soft skin of her inner thigh and was kissing his way back up her body. She was so beautiful; it was so hard for him to go slowly, but he was enjoying the frustrated little moans and breaths coming from her. He sank his teeth gently into her side, then ran his cheek up the side of her breast. Hermione wrapped her legs around his back, and he found it so arousing that he stopped resisting the temptation to take her nipple in his mouth. He sucked on her gently and she cried out, then pressed his head more firmly to her. He continued to suck her slowly, softly, gently, until she was wriggling frantically against him, pushing his face against her breast.
"Oh, please, Harry," she ground out in frustration, "please do it harder." Any control he had convinced himself he was exercising disappeared as he changed his gentle, teasing movements and began to suck hard. With his hand he pinched her other nipple, until she was bucking and writhing against him. After a moment, he felt her hands pushing against his shoulders and looked up to see what was wrong.
"Get up," she gasped, and he quickly pulled back to his knees. Then she got to her knees, pushed him gently back down to the ground, and quickly climbed on top of him so that she was straddling his waist. She could feel the tip of his erection between her legs, and she bent low over him, slowly pushing herself back onto his penis and sliding him carefully into her. This was what she had seen Ginny and Luna doing, and she wanted it for herself, too.
Harry raised his hips and pushed himself into her, and Hermione winced. She was still a bit sore from the first time, and Harry was so big he stretched and filled her completely. Harry grasped her thighs in an effort to control himself.
"All right there, `Mione?" he asked hoarsely.
"Yes," she said, beginning to move up and down on him. "Oh, yes…" The residual soreness was fading, and the hot, tense sensations she had experienced earlier were returning. She balanced herself with her hands on his chest and rocked herself back and forth, sliding him in and out of her. He reached up and squeezed her breasts, then without breaking their contact sat up, so that her legs were wrapped around his waist and her breasts level with her face. As she rode him, he sucked and fondled her, and she could feel her orgasm building. She thrust against him harder and harder, loving the way he fit inside her, loving the feel of him pushing into her over and over. Finally her climax exploded through her, and she held him inside her, clinging to him with her arms and legs, while she came. She was shuddering with aftershocks when Harry began to thrust his hips up violently, hoarse groans coming from his throat, his hands holding her hips in an iron grip as he pumped himself into her over and over. Then he gasped and collapsed against her, his breath coming fast and his heart racing.
He rested his head against her shoulder and held her close. She was all around him, he was still inside her, their arms and legs were so tangled up that he didn't know where one ended and the other began. It was like they were one person, he thought, and he knew he didn't want that to stop. They were already like that in so many ways, in the way they could talk, in the way they could almost read each others' minds, in the ways they took care of each other. He was feeling decidedly selfish right now; he wanted this, too. He wanted it all.
She stirred against him. The beat of the music was no longer vibrating in the distance. "Harry?"
"Hmmm?" he answered groggily.
"The music's stopped," she said. "I think we'd better be getting back."
Harry sighed deeply. He was so comfortable and content right now, he really didn't want to go. But he had known this couldn't last forever. "All right," he said. "If we have to."
Hermione kissed the top of his head and stood up. She nearly trod on his glasses, so she bent to pick them up and handed them to him so that he could see. Without talking they re-assembled their costumes, though Hermione didn't bother to fix her torn panties. The blouse was another matter, though; she could hardly go traipsing through the Great Hall without a blouse on. Pulling out her wand, she muttered some mending charms, then pulled the shirt on, good as new.
Harry watched her out of the corner of her eye. "Er…sorry about that," he muttered, his face slightly red.
Hermione gave him a mock severe look. "Don't you dare apologize, Harry Potter!" she scolded, and Harry smiled in relief. Finally their pirate costumes were back in place, and Harry took Hermione's hand and let her out the narrow opening and back through the forest.
The lights in the Great Hall had been raised to their full brightness, and even through the decorative forest, they could see that it was a mess. Harry saw Hermione's shoulders slump a bit, and he thought he understood how she felt. The magic of the night was over. There was clean-up to be done, and she was the one responsible for it. He would help her, of course, but it seemed to be a ruder return to real life than he would have liked for her. For both of them.
"I'm going to go change my clothes, Harry," Hermione said on a resigned sigh. "I can't work in these…" She indicated her high-heeled boots, and Harry experienced a pang of regret to see them go.
"All right," he nodded. "I'll just help the band break everything down, then."
Hermione returned his nod and headed through the trees to the doors of the Great Hall. Harry watched her go, and felt a sudden desperate urge to call her back, but he didn't know what he would say. He didn't know what to do now that they were back in real life. Running a hand through his already messy hair, he sighed, then turned to help the band.
Hermione returned fifteen minutes later in her jeans and t-shirt. She had found Ernie MacMillan, the erstwhile Head Boy, snogging Lavender in an alcove, and had dragged him back down to the Great Hall, ruthlessly ignoring Lavender's protests.
"Honestly, Ernie, you're supposed to be in charge of clean up!" Hermione snapped at him. She would rather be snogging her date somewhere, too, but as usual, all the responsibility fell on her shoulders. "Didn't you get a committee together or anything?"
Ernie scowled, and Hermione got the distinct impression he was more than a little drunk. "I did, but they all disappeared," he sulked. "Can't find any of `em."
"Fine," Hermione said. "You start disenchanting the Hall and cleaning up the trash, I'll go round up the Prefects. We're supposed to have everything done before breakfast, and I don't fancy being down here cleaning all night." What she fancied was going back to that magical place with Harry, pretending she had no responsibilities, and falling asleep in his arms. She sighed, then set off in search of as many Prefects as she could find. Maybe if she found enough of them, they could get this over with quickly.
The Prefects weren't happy about being rounded up. She considered herself lucky that many of them were to be found snogging each other or passed out drunk in each other's arms, so that if she found one, she found another one, as well. Draco and Ginny were asleep in the same place she had seen them earlier, and she had to wake them up while trying not to think about seeing them shagging in this very spot. She couldn't find Ron and Luna at all, and she swore she'd make them pay for their absence. Eventually, she found about half the Prefects and set them to work with brutal efficiency. Harry, who wasn't even a Prefect, stayed and helped as well, and Hermione was grateful, even though she didn't have time to tell him so.
They finished in less than an hour, mostly because the house-elves came in and added their efforts, and Hermione finally dismissed the Prefects.
"All right then," she said in her best woman-in-charge voice. "Twenty points to everyone who helped. Thanks to the house-elves, too." A hundred little creatures bowed and beamed at her praise, and Hermione smiled wryly. She didn't believe in the enslavement of elves, but at the moment, she was very glad they were there. "Go to bed, everyone. Don't forget we have a Prefects' meeting Wednesday night."
The grumbling and rather bleary students wandered out of the newly cleaned Great Hall and headed off toward their respective common rooms. If one or two of them appeared to be heading toward their dates' dormitories, she wasn't going to say anything. Not tonight. Shaking her hair back off her neck, she leaned against one of the long house tables and exhaled a breath.
"All right, then, Hermione?" Harry asked, coming to stand next to her.
"Yes," she sighed. "Thanks for staying to help, Harry. I know it wasn't your job."
Harry shoved his hands into his pockets. He didn't understand her mood, and he didn't want to make a wrong move. He shrugged. "It's all right," he said. "It wasn't your job, either, was it?"
Hermione snorted. "No, it was Ernie's, but he wasn't going to do it."
They stood in silence for a few moments. Hermione was still simmering with irritation, though she knew that was just a mask for the deeper insecurity she was feeling. She had no idea what to say to Harry now, and that irritated her as much as Ernie's failure to do his job. She had never had trouble talking to Harry before. She bit her lip. Was everything going to change now?
Harry studied his boots for a few moments, then looked up through his lashes at Hermione. She didn't look like a pirate queen any more. She looked like a tired teenager. He glanced at his watch. No wonder, it was after two in the morning. He wasn't sure if he should reach out and take her hand, then he scowled. He had just made love to this girl. Twice. Surely that gave him the right to hold her hand.
Summoning all his courage, he reached out and did it. Hermione started and looked up, and Harry could read clearly the relief on her face. Maybe she was as unsure as he was. He grinned to himself. He certainly hoped so.
"C'mon," he said. "Let's go to bed." Hand in hand they left the Great Hall and made their way up the various staircases to Gryffindor Tower. Dean and Seamus lay passed out on the floor of the hallway outside the portrait of the Fat Lady, and with a disapproving tut, Hermione levitated them while Harry gave the password.
"Be fair, Hermione," Harry said reasonably, as they navigated the portrait hole with the two boys floating in front of them. "It's not like they were the only ones drinking."
"I know that," Hermione said crossly, her face flushing.
"In fact," Harry teased, "I noticed the Head Girl herself was a little tipsy there for a while…"
"Stop!" Hermione scolded, but she couldn't help smiling. She couldn't resist it when he teased her like that. "I didn't get drunk! And I certainly was never at risk of passing out like these two idiots."
"True," Harry agreed. He watched while Hermione sent Dean and Seamus over to float near the boys' stairs. He felt he should say something, but he didn't know what. On the one hand, he didn't want things to change with her, but on the other, he didn't think he could go back to where they had been before. Not after tonight.
"Hermione…"
She turned to him, and Harry dragged a hand through his hair. He started to speak, but then she spoke first, cutting him off before he could even begin.
"Harry," she said. "We have to talk, but not now, okay? Tomorrow is soon enough."
"Oh, er…all right," he said, trying to ignore all the questions and declarations churning in his brain. She was right; it was really late.
She closed the distance between them, and took his face in her hands. Standing on her toes, she kissed him gently on the lips. Before he had a chance to respond, she withdrew, and said, "Good night, Harry"
Harry watched her go, then turned and pointed his wand at Dean and Seamus, levitating them up the boys' stairs in front of him. Then he undressed and lay in his bed staring at the red velvet canopy above him and thinking about Hermione, until he finally fell asleep.
Harry woke with a start only a few hours later. It took him a few minutes to remember where he was. The cold light of the November dawn was beginning to filter into the dorm room, and it washed away the images from his dream. He tried to hold onto them, because he sensed they were important somehow. His scar was throbbing dully, and he knew his dream had been due to his connection with Voldemort.
Harry swore. He hadn't felt the connection in a long time, and it had been so easy to get used to feeling normal. He had worried about girls and the Fall Ball and early reviews for N.E.W.T.s. It wasn't that he ever really forgot Voldemort, but that situation hadn't been as urgent as the others.
But it was going to get urgent, he realized. Soon. He rubbed his scar, trying to focus on the images from the dream. He couldn't, but he could sense the hatred and the violent pleasure that he had experienced in the dream. He hated having those emotions inside him, even if they didn't belong to him. They had no place alongside the good feelings Hermione had brought to him last night.
He grinned at the thought of Hermione, and the last of the pain in his head faded away. Just thinking about her made him feel better. His grin faded, though, as he considered the immediate future. There was so much uncertainty, so much to fear. He started to wonder how he could possibly ask her to be a part of that, but he shook his head when he realized that she would be a part of it whether she was his best friend or his girlfriend. He wouldn't be able to stop her. Whatever happened between them, Hermione would stand by him.
With a sigh he rolled out of bed and found his clothes. Grabbing up his cloak, because he knew it was cold out and he knew Hermione would scold him if he forgot it, he made his way quietly down the stairs and through the common room. Silently he made his way through the maze of Hogwarts' corridors until he reached the great front doors. Sliding them gently apart, he slipped through the opening and made his way outside into the crisp dawn air and across the grounds.
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Hermione descended the girls' stairs just in time to see Harry slip quietly out the common room door. She frowned groggily, wondering what he was doing up so early. He'd hardly had any sleep at all. Then she remembered that she had hardly had any sleep at all, either. She had been exhausted when she went to bed, but her mind continued to race, even her sleep. Images from the night, memories of Harry dancing with her, kissing her, touching her, swirled around in her head, along with something else, some sense of unease… she closed her eyes and wished for a cup of tea. It didn't appear. With a huff of breath she figured she'd have to go down to the Great Hall and hope that the house elves had laid some out.
Fifteen minutes later, Hermione sat alone at the Gryffindor table, gratefully sipping a mug of tea. She felt like her brain was finally starting to work again, and as it ground into action, she found herself wondering where Harry had gone to so early in the morning. Was he avoiding her? She bit her lip anxiously. No, that was stupid. He didn't even know she was awake.
Then something must be bothering him. And she was sure he hadn't eaten yet. If he was trying to think something over, he wouldn't be able to do it very clearly with little sleep and no food. Deciding, she gathered several pieces of toast and a few éclairs, poured another mug of tea and sealed the top with a swirl of her wand. Then she realized she didn't have her own cloak, so, with a sigh of exasperation she set down the food, ran through the quiet corridors to Gryffindor Tower, grabbed her cloak from her trunk as quietly as she could, and returned to the Great Hall. Gathering up her things, she slipped out the doors of the Great Hall and headed across the lawn. She had an idea where Harry had gone, but even if she was wrong, it might be nice to sit there by herself and do some thinking of her own.
Hermione came around the curve of the lake and saw him standing there, on that rock. She drew in a breath. He was gazing out over the lake with his jaw set, looking as grim and determined as she had ever seen him. The morning light glinted off his glasses, making him seem far away and so very alone. His feet were braced apart for balance on the uneven rock, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans under his cloak, and he was gazing out over the lake. Hermione hesitantly followed his gaze, but he must be looking at something only he could see, because there was nothing out there.
Hesitantly she stepped forward, reminding herself that even if he did look a bit forbidding right now, this was just Harry. She placed the napkin full of food and the mug of tea on the level ground next to the rock, then stood looking at him, unsure what to do. She wasn't sure he even knew she was there, until he turned his head and looked down at her. A smile curved his lips, and she smiled back in relief. He held out his hand, and she took it, allowing him to pull her up to stand next to him.
They stood quietly for a minute, looking out over the lake. Then Harry said, "Was that food I saw?"
"Yes," Hermione said. "And tea." She levitated the things she had brought. Harry reached for an éclair and took a huge bite.
"Thanks," he said, swallowing. "I forgot to eat before I came out here." He sat down on the rock and she sat beside him, watching him unseal his tea and drink it.
"Why are you up so early, Harry?" she asked.
He hesitated. " I had dreams."
"What were they?" she asked, a little disappointed. If they had been dreams about their night together, he wouldn't look so solemn. She hoped.
Harry shook his head in frustration. "I'm not sure. I woke up with my scar hurting. But there were good dreams, too. About…about you." He looked away, his face going slightly pink. "But they were all mixed together."
Hermione frowned. "I had dreams like that, too," she said. "The memories were good, but I woke up worried."
"Something's coming, Hermione," Harry said seriously. "I'm sure of it. I don't know how long it'll be, but we're coming to the end. We have to be ready."
"We're always ready, Harry," Hermione reminded him gently. "We've been ready since fifth year. You've seen to it."
"Yeah," he sighed. "I guess…" He stared down into his tea for a moment. "I could die, Hermione. He might kill me."
Hermione took a deep breath and blew it out. "I know."
"I mean," he said, "I know any of us could die, so many have already died…" He shook his head. "But I mean, if it's the only way to get rid of him, to end it all, then I…" He trailed off, unsure how to say what he was trying to tell her.
"Then that's what you'll do," she shrugged. "I know that. Do you think I don't know you?"
Harry laughed quietly and wiped the bread crumbs off his hands. "No, I don't think that. You're the only person who really does."
She smiled at him and his face grew warm. Then he looked away before he could get distracted by her pretty face and her warm smile. He still had things to say, and they were going to be hard enough.
"You know me," he began, looking out at the lake and stammering slightly, "because we've always been…well, friends, right?"
Hermione nodded and drew her knees up. She didn't know what he was getting at, but she sensed she had to give him time to figure it out.
He took a deep breath and went on. "Okay, so…er…last night…" he could feel his face burning now, "last night, for a while, we were more than friends, right?"
Hermione nodded again, and squeezed her knees a little more tightly. More than friends… that was an understatement if she ever heard one.
"And today, right now, we're friends again, right?"
Hermione nodded yet again, and pulled her knees all the way into her chest.
Harry stood up abruptly and shoved his hands in his cloak pocket. Then he took a few steps forward and scooped up a rock and tossed it into the lake. Hermione squeezed herself small and rested her head against her knees. He was going to say they should just be friends, they should just stay friends, and she didn't know how to stop him saying it. She bit her lip. She would always be his friend, but it wasn't enough any more. She wasn't going to be able to forget what they had shared.
She peeked up over the tops of her knees and watched him while he searched for the words he wanted. She wished she could do something besides just sit here and wait. She frowned. When did she ever just sit around and wait? That wasn't like her. It must be the lack of sleep.
"I want…" He stopped, started again. "I want to be your friend, always, but I want the other, too. I want...I just…" He stopped, frustrated as his words got tangled.
Hermione stretched out her legs in front of her and leaned back, looking at Harry the whole time. Tears had sprung to her eyes when she thought he was going to turn away from her, and now a few tears leaked out when she realized that he wasn't. But he seemed to be stuck, she thought, cocking her head to one side. She grinned and wiped the stray tears away with the back of her hand.
"Are you trying to say you want to be more than friends, Harry?" she asked, hoping her intuition was right.
Harry looked down and didn't meet her eyes. "Er…yeah," he said, his face flushing again. "But friends, too, `cause I still…I still need you as a friend."
Hermione stood up and made her way off the rock to stand by him on the lakeshore. She took his hands and pulled him to her, finally forcing him to look her in the eye. "I'd like that, Harry. I'd like to have both, too."
Harry laughed with relief and happiness. He couldn't believe she felt the same way. Suddenly he needed to have her closer, so he pulled her into his arms and held her to him. After a few minutes he took a deep breath, and said, "I don't know how much time I have left, Hermione. It could be a month, it could be a hundred years. But I…either way, I want to spend it with you, all right?"
The cold autumn breeze blew across the lake and whipped their hair and cloaks around them. Hermione shivered, and Harry wrapped her tighter in his arms, drawing his cloak around her. She wrapped her arms around his waist and held him as close as she could. She rested her head against Harry's chest and breathed in his scent, feeling safe and comforted.
Behind them, the last of the golden leaves blew from the tree on the edge of the forest. They swept in a gentle tornado around Hermione and Harry, then blew past them out onto the glossy water of the lake. Hermione watched them twirl on the water. Here in the north the season was changing, the gentle autumn giving way to what she knew might be a harsh and bitter winter. And outside this place, out in the world, the season was changing, too, growing colder and more dangerous by the day.
Hermione hugged Harry fiercely. "I love you, Harry," she said. "I'll keep you warm."
Harry kissed the top of her head, smiling as the wild curls blew in the breeze and covered his glasses for a moment. "I love you, too, `Mione. And it's okay. Spring's coming."
THE END.
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