A/N: Another one…
The title name is a reference to Clannad, from which this idea derives. Well, this is actually pretty much just the same as the Tomoyo OVA, only told from a Harry Potter point of view. Of course, though, there are going to be some tweaks.
So: Muggle AU. Present Day (2010-2011 instead of 1997-1998). Sap. Fluff. General Cuteness and Angst.
This storyline does not belong to me, it belongs by all rights to Visual Key and the makers of the Clannad anime.
Enjoy!
Another World: Hermione Chapter
Harry Potter curled into a tighter ball as his curtains were wrenched open, making him squeeze his eyes shut harder in an effort to ward off the sunlight.
"Come on, Harry, rise and shine!" said a chipper, angelic voice.
"I don't want to," Harry groaned, pulling his blankets over his head.
"Well, it's my duty as your girlfriend to get you to school whether you like it or not," said Hermione.
"Then maybe we should break up," Harry mumbled in a poor attempt at humor.
He was met with silence. He let his eyes open and rolled over to find Hermione looking at him somberly. "Don't say that," she said, looking anxious. "Don't even joke about that."
"Sorry, sorry," said Harry, itching his head. "Don't worry about it, I'm glad I get to wake up to your beauty every morning."
Hermione hurriedly turned around in an effort to hide her blush. "I'll go make sure breakfast is ready," she mumbled before hurrying out of the room.
Harry got dressed and exited his room, cracking open his dad's door on the way to the stairs to find James Potter snoring with the television flickering, a half-empty bottle of booze held precariously in his left hand. Harry sighed and shut the door quietly, heading downstairs to join his girlfriend. Ever since Harry's mum had died in a car accident when he was little, his dad had never been the same.
"We're running late, so I made you some toast that you can eat on the go," she said hurriedly, thrusting a napkin and two pieces of toast into his hand along with his school bag. She popped open the fridge and grabbed a box of orange juice, tucking it in Harry's breast pocket.
He looked down at it before looking back up at Hermione and raising an eyebrow at her. "Oh, shut up," she said, rolling her eyes as she grabbed his hand and dragged him out of his house. "Wouldn't do good to be late on the day of the announcement of the school president election results."
Harry smiled to himself. He knew she wanted to add 'just in case I win.' Because on top of (or despite) being smart and bookish, Hermione was also surprisingly popular among her peers. She attributed it to the fact that they knew she was just trying to help them and they appreciated it, but Harry knew it was because she was unfailingly kind and always modest about her achievements. In fact, and even though it actually happened quite often, the only times Harry ever saw Hermione even remotely frustrated or angry was when she was scolding their mutual friend, Ron Weasley.
Harry, on the other hand, was widely regarded as a substandard and often looked down-upon student. He was a delinquent, a troublemaker, though he had somewhat changed his ways since meeting Hermione near the middle of their previous year of high school. But that didn't change the fact that he got poor grades (in fact, he'd probably be failing if he wasn't going out with Hermione), was habitually tardy (and had actually managed to drag Hermione into that bad habit), and was generally withdrawn from the rest of the student population (meaning the rest of the school had no idea that he was a better person and student now). The two of them were definitely an odd pairing, but Harry was glad that it seemed to be working out so far.
Because he honestly loved everything about Hermione. How beautiful she was both inside and out, how hardworking she was, how she firmly believed in everything she said, how she was unwilling to compromise her values for anyone else's sake, how she constantly pushed a lock of her hair behind her ear when it fell loose because she was writing so vigorously, how she bit her bottom lip when she was deep in thought. Everything.
The day passed by in a blur, Harry doing his best to pay attention but failing miserably (as usual), lunch passing on the grass with his girlfriend, his friend Ron Weasley, and Ron's little sister Ginny. Before Harry knew it school was out, the time to head to club activities, sports, or just go home already upon them. But first, the school president election results were coming up.
Harry and Hermione were sharing a seat in an empty classroom, her head resting peacefully on his shoulder. Her eyes shot open, though, when the speaker above the teacher's desk came to life.
"The results are in for this year's school president election," came an airy, dreamy voice over the system. "Your school's new president this year is going to be…Hermione Granger!"
Hermione let out a squeal and hugged Harry hard, driving the breath out of him. "Hermione…can't…breathe…" he gasped.
"Sorry," she said sheepishly, softening her bone-crushing to the point that it was only rib-cracking. "Isn't it great, though?" she asked.
"Yeah, it is," Harry said, smiling down at her.
Hermione had desperately wanted the school's president position, somewhat for personal reasons. As a little girl, her sister had gone to the very high school they were currently attending. Hermione hadn't been the best of kids, always getting into trouble and never doing her homework. Then her sister had told her all the reasons why it was a good idea to be good, especially since bad things happened to bad people. Hermione refused to believe her, only getting worse as she began applying her staggering intelligence to her wrongdoings. Then, not even a year later, her sister passed away from cancer.
Since that very day, Hermione hadn't stepped even a toe out of line. Her sister had passed away when Hermione was eight, and she remembered what her sister had told her about bad things happening to bad people. She was convinced it was her fault her sister had died because she was still doing bad things. She had since grown out of that belief, of course, but she had never again stepped a single toe out of line in memory of her sister.
But that didn't define why Hermione wanted to be class president. Her sister had loved acting in the school plays, something Hermione wasn't really interested in but respected nonetheless. But now, nine years later, the school's theater program was dying, the funding moved into different areas of the school. There was no way Hermione was going to let the trend continue while she was still attending; the theater was one of the last ties remaining that she had with her sister.
"Well, you ready to go home for the day, then?" Harry asked, standing up and stretching.
"Sorry, Harry," said Hermione, slinging her bag over her shoulder. "I have to report to the student council room."
Harry did his best not to look sad. "Well, see you tomorrow morning then, yeah?" he said.
"Yep!" Hermione said with a smile, giving him a lingering peck on the cheek before leaving him alone in the room.
He sighed and pulled his own bag over his shoulder before thrusting his hands into his pockets and exiting the classroom, heading home to get a head start on his homework. He knew he'd need as much time as possible to do it without Hermione there.
The next morning, Harry was awoken in much the same manner as usual. Everything seemed normal between him and Hermione, all evidence of the slight awkwardness in the classroom yesterday afternoon completely gone. His dad was drunk again, passed out with the TV on, and he and Hermione had pleasant conversation while they ate breakfast.
When they arrived at school, Harry couldn't help but notice that they received a few strange looks. He knew what they were for and was glad Hermione didn't seem to notice. He was Harry Potter, the delinquent whose dad was a good-for-nothing. He was Harry Potter, and he seemed awfully close to the Student Council President. Because despite the two of them having been a couple for a little over a month now, it wasn't common knowledge among the student body.
Hermione was unable to make it to lunch with him, her goal to preserve the theater and theater class needing to be started as soon as possible. So Harry ate lunch alone, the only comforting thought in his mind that he'd at least be able to walk home with her. After school he waited at the school gates, half-heartedly inspecting his phone while he waited. And waited. And waited.
"Harry Potter?" a girl who looked like she was a freshman tentatively asked.
"Yeah?" he said, trying his best not to frighten her. He knew what his reputation was.
"H-Hermione asked me to tell you that she's going to be a while and you can head home to do your homework," she said softly, eyes wide with suppressed fear.
She backed away quickly, not even giving Harry a chance to thank her as she headed back into the school. He stood there for a few minutes, letting the news sink in.
Finally, he sighed and headed home, his heart heavy.
And the pattern began to repeat itself.
Their mornings would start out normally enough, even if they showed up to school just a tad late every morning because of his inability to move quickly in the morning. The whispering grew louder until it was painfully obvious, pointing coming to accompany the whispering about what their relationship was. Hermione's grades slipped a bit as her presidential duties became more and more important and time-consuming, not to mention the fact that she and Harry would spend a bit of precious time on the phone every night so she could help him with the more difficult parts of his homework.
Then came the day. The day the principal called him to his office.
He received 'that look' from the rest of his classmates when the announcement came over the PA. That look that spoke volumes. The look that let him know they knew how bad a person he was and how he wasn't good enough for their perfect president.
"Mr. Potter," came the greeting from the old man sitting in a big mahogany chair. He had a long white beard and wore half-moon spectacles upon his crooked nose, an omniscient look in his eyes. The principal, Albus Dumbledore. He and Harry knew each other quite well from the amount of time he had spent in this very office as a result of his wrongdoings.
But despite the amount of detentions Harry had received from him, he liked the old man. He was always fair and kind, actually seeming disappointed in him when he did something wrong. He actually cared, and that went a long way with Harry.
Harry sat in the chair opposite him, wondering what he could've possible been accused of this time. "Yes sir?"
"I've called you to my office today so we could discuss your relationship with Miss Granger, the student council president," said Professor Dumbledore.
"What about it?" Harry replied, already knowing what was going to come out of his principal's mouth next.
"You two are a couple, are you not?" he asked.
"Yes sir," said Harry.
"As a result you spend as much time together as you can, do you not?" Dumbledore asked, already knowing the answer.
"Yes sir," said Harry, casting his eyes down, wishing Dumbledore would just stop now. He didn't know if he could bear to hear the words come out of his mouth.
"I was looking through the attendance records and noticed that you two arrive late to class almost every day," said Dumbledore, looking at Harry over the top of his spectacles.
"Yes sir," he responded, his throat beginning to close.
"Her grades have slipped recently, too," said Dumbledore. "Not to mention the fact that she was skipping some of her presidential duties to spend more time with you."
"Yes sir," Harry whispered.
"Now, I'm not telling you what to do or forcing you to do anything," said Dumbledore. "But I want you to think about what you want, and what Miss Granger wants, and what direction you see the two of you going in." He took a pause, letting his words sink in. "As much as I like you, Mr. Potter, and as much as I'm sure Miss Granger likes you, I would like to be brutally honest with you."
"Yes sir," said Harry.
"You're holding her back, Mr. Potter," said Dumbledore gently. "You have to see that although the attraction may be there, she's just at a higher level than you. She's destined for great things."
"And what am I destined for?" Harry asked resentfully, his chest and throat burning.
"Mr. Potter, we are all destined for something in this life," said Dumbledore, leaning forward to show Harry his earnestness. "Sometimes the paths stay parallel for the span of a lifetime, and sometimes they are parallel for only a moment before they go off on their own forever. You're about to reach that point of deviation with Miss Granger, Mr. Potter. It may be painful to hear and painful to do right now, but you'll be in only that much more pain if you hold this off until the point where your paths separate for good. She also has a goal, I hear," Dumbledore said. Harry nodded mutely, his heart down somewhere near his feet. "A lot of her support is coming from alumni. Unfortunately, the alumni have been hearing some pretty bad rumors…such as Miss Granger coming out of her boyfriend's house every morning."
"She's only waking me up," Harry said quickly, trying to make Dumbledore understand.
But Dumbledore responded grimly. "Lies have more effect on people's opinions than the truth. It's what they believe that matters, not what is fact. To get this done, not only does Miss Granger need the alumni support, she also needs the student body support. She needs to be a role model for them. Unfortunately, Mr. Potter…unfortunately, you seem to be causing most of her problems right now," Dumbledore said heavily.
Harry didn't have the heart to fight his principle's words. He knew the old man was right. No matter which angle he looked at it, Hermione really was on her own plane, a plane much higher than Harry's. She would be forever climbing, attaining a position of influence and leadership everywhere she went. And he…he would probably be stuck in the town they were living in forever. Dragging her down, keeping her from realizing her potential.
"Yes sir," Harry whispered one final time. He cleared his throat and said, "Is that all?"
"Yes, Mr. Potter, you are dismissed," said Dumbledore, his face and voice etched with sadness.
Harry opened the door and made to step out of the room, only to stop. "And sir?" he said, making Dumbledore look up at him. "Thank you."
o.O.o.O.o.O.o
It was an atrociously hot day. In December.
They had experienced nothing but snowfall for a week and now it was 32 degrees (Celsius). The sun was blinding as it reflected off of the remaining snow.
It was the second Sunday after Harry's conversation with Dumbledore, though he hadn't broken up with Hermione yet. They were sitting on a park bench eating ice cream in silence, enjoying the peaceful sounds around them in silence. Well, Hermione was admiring the sounds. Harry was too busy building up the courage to say what he needed to.
A bit of ice cream dripped off of Harry's cone and landed on his pants, though Harry didn't notice anything. "Harry, silly," Hermione said, grabbing a napkin and wiping the ice cream off his pants. "Be careful and eat faster. You're dripping."
Harry swallowed at the sound of her voice and looked over at her as she had her back turned to him, in the process of throwing the napkin away. She was so beautiful. Who was he to cage her?
"Hermione," he said somberly, the importance of what he was going to say next prevalent in his voice.
She turned to face him with a questioning look on her face, catching the tension in Harry's voice. "Yeah?" she said.
Harry looked ahead of him, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, effectively keeping Hermione out of his peripheral vision. "I think we should break up."
Her eyebrows furrowed as her breathing stopped, her heart hammering in her chest. "I told you not to joke about that," she said even though she knew it wasn't a joke.
"You have a goal," said Harry, still look ahead of him, his face emotionless. "If you're with me, you probably won't make it there." Hermione remained silent, casting her head towards the ground. Harry said, "Okay? So-"
"No," Hermione interjected softly, causing Harry to look over at her in surprise. "I don't want to!" she said more strongly, looking up at him on the verge of tears. Harry looked down, the hurt in her eyes too much to bear.
"Herm-"
"I don't want to!" she cried, cutting him off again. She stood up and faced him, tears pooling in her eyes. "If…If I'm gone, you'll have trouble. Without me, who will wake you every morning? Who'll pack your lunch? Who'll make you breakfast? Who's going to help you with your homework? And…a-and…"
"Don't worry," said Harry quietly, taking this opportunity to cut her off in return. "I'll manage even without you," he said, looking back down at his feet.
"But…but…" Hermione said, trying to come up with something. Anything.
"If I'm with you, I'll end up relying on you for everything," he said. "That just won't work."
"I love you," Hermione said quietly, using her last, desperate card. "I want to be with you!" she cried.
"Hermione," he said with conviction, making her take in a shaky breath. "The feeling I had wasn't love," he lied, telling himself it was for a greater good, managing to not grimace from the pain when she took in a pained gasp. "I'm a really selfish guy," he continued, soldiering on. They remained in silence for a second, the birds chirping merrily despite what was unfolding, then Harry said, "Hermione, accomplish your goals. And one day, let me look back and think, 'Wow, I dated an amazing person.'" Still looking down at the ground with the tiniest expression of sadness on his face, he said, "Please, Hermione."
He took one glance at her and looked away, unable to bear the sight of her. To have her so close but know she was no longer his. Hermione, understanding the situation, said, "Okay," sadly, and Harry looked back up at her to find her looking at a point near his right shoe, her eyes almost lifeless. "I promise you. And…thank you for dating a girl like me." They stayed in silence, Hermione waiting for Harry to take it back and Harry staying unwavering, committed to making sure she attained her dreams. Then Hermione finally realized. It was really over. "T…Take care of yourself," she said monotonously.
"Yeah," said Harry lifelessly, not moving an inch as Hermione grabbed her bag of books off the bench from next to Harry. He didn't move when she hesitated for a split second, and he didn't move as she adjusted the bag on her shoulder to stall for time. He didn't move when she took her first step, and he didn't move as she slowly walked out of sight, her shoulders hunched a little and her head cast down. He didn't move as the day slowly trudged on, the world still revolving even though he was in so much pain.
Day turned into evening, the sky turning shades of pink and red, and Harry still hadn't moved, his ice cream complete mush in his hand. He raised it to his lips numbly and took a bite, the portion in his mouth melting immediately. He stared at his ice cream as reality hit him hard. Never again would Hermione give him a kiss, or a hug, or that special smile she saved just for him. Never again would he wake up to her voice, or eat her delicious breakfast.
He took in a deep, shaky breath, doing his best to fight off the constriction of his chest and the burning in his throat. The breath came out as a choked-back sob, tears pooling in his vision. He sniffled a bit as he breathed back in, the burning only intensifying, a grimace forming on his face as he desperately fought the tears.
Then one hit the back of his hand and he knew he had lost.
o.O.o.O.o.O.o
Harry was over at Ron's house, up in his room with him later that night. "What?" Ron said quietly, disbelievingly. "I thought you two were going to make it all the way."
Harry smiled sadly even though the pain was still fresh in his heart. He had thought they were going to make it all the way, too. "It's not that easy," he said.
Ron shook his head. "No, if she was forced to choose between you and the council, I know she would choose you."
"I'm not sure about that," said Harry, still with the sad smile on his face.
"But with Hermione gone, aren't you just going to go back to being a good-for-nothing?" Ron asked cheekily, a sly grin on his face.
Harry looked down, promising himself he wouldn't let that happen.
o.O.o.O.o.O.o
Harry tossed and turned, sunlight managing to seep through the tiny gap in the curtains. He slowly opened his eyes even though he didn't want to and looked at the alarm clock.
Hermione was five minutes late.
Then he reminded himself that Hermione wasn't going to be coming.
Sighing, Harry got up and started getting ready for the day.
o.O.o.O.o.O.o
"Therefore, problem two is an application of example one," said the math teacher, Mr. Vector.
Harry, taking notes with previously absent vigor, didn't notice when Vector glanced over his shoulder at him. Vector then went back to looking at the board, not letting his surprise show.
o.O.o.O.o.O.o
Days, which turned into months, passed in a much similar manner; Harry waking up on time, getting to school on time, handing in his homework, taking notes diligently, and walking home on his own to work on his homework. Every once in a while he and Hermione would pass each other in the halls. Hermione would be looking at him the whole time, while Harry would cast his eyes aside, usually just letting them fall closed as he passed.
He was afraid if he actually looked at her he would give into the urge to sweep her up and kiss her senseless.
He would pass people who would say things like, "Did you hear? Hermione ranked third in the national exam?" and "I heard Hermione has an offer to study abroad through an exchange program."
Harry had a small smile on his face every time, glad she was keeping her promise.
o.O.o.O.o.O.o
"I'm really going to watch it," said Ron, his thumb touching the button on the remote.
"Do whatever you like," said Harry, not looking at the TV.
"I was thinking you might not want to watch it," said Ron. "Are you sure?"
Harry smiled at Ron, waving his hand in front of his face. "Just do it already."
Ron hit the button, changing the channel to the local news, where they were broadcasting Hermione's speech to the parents of the students. She was talking about the theater program and why it would be a good idea to preserve it.
Ron looked over at Harry, who was watching the speech intently, though he knew his friend wasn't paying attention to what she was saying. Ron looked back at the screen and said, "We were close to someone really amazing, weren't we?"
When he looked back over at Harry he found that a small, sad smile had made its way onto his friend's face.
o.O.o.O.o.O.o
"You found a job?" Ron said.
"Yeah," said Harry. "One of the only places around here that hires people who haven't been to college."
"Where is it?" asked Ron inquisitively.
"Just a small electrical company," he said. "They do maintenance around here all the time."
"And…and that's the job you want?" Ron asked, already knowing the answer.
"Yeah," Harry lied. At the very least he had wanted a job he had to take the train to.
Stuck in this town, just like he thought he would be.
o.O.o.O.o.O.o
It was an atrociously cold day. In June.
It was snowing softly, the ground covered with a few inches that had fallen during the thankfully indoor graduation ceremony. Harry had skipped the after-party, opting instead to go home and stare at the ceiling. He figured it was better than having to pretend to be happy.
He had seen Hermione for what was probably the last time today.
He thought about how that instant would be playing out if he and Hermione were still together. She would've been impeached as student council president, but she would be holding onto his arm and smiling up at him as they walked home together.
His eyes were cast down as he was lost in his vision, but he stopped as he felt a pair of eyes on him. A very familiar pair of eyes. He looked up and met the eyes of Hermione, who was wearing a cute plaid jacket along with a grey scarf, her jeans and boots making her look comfortable and cozy. Her breath was wafting in front of her face as white steam, her big, warm brown eyes not leaving his.
"Have you been doing well?" Hermione asked nervously, her voice sending warmth shooting through Harry's veins.
"Yeah," said Harry half-heartedly, looking down somewhere near Hermione's feet. He looked back up, his face weary, and asked, "What's up?"
"I was waiting for you," said Hermione. "I just wanted to let you know."
"Wanted to let me know what?" asked Harry simply.
"They're going to begin funding the theater program at the school again," Hermione said, though she didn't sound as happy about it as Harry imagined she would. "It's finally been decided."
"I see," said Harry, a small grin on his face.
"It was long," said Hermione, her eyes still not leaving Harry's. "It was a goal I couldn't give up on. Now it's finally come true."
"So you made your dream come true," Harry said, his grin turning back into that weary, almost nonexistent smile.
"But I lost much for it," said Hermione sadly. "Those…those months that I could've been spending instead with the man I love." Harry remained silent, unable to respond how he knew he should. "I love you," she said quietly. "Even now, I've come to love you more than I did before."
Harry smiled his first real smile in quite a while, looking down at the snow to his right. "We haven't talked this whole time," he said, a bit of humor in his voice.
"You're right," Hermione replied, drawing Harry's eyes back to her. "But I've watched you. I've been watching all this time. Even without me, you were doing well," she said, a bit of pride in her voice. "You went to your classes and showed up to all of them on time. You were working hard, little by little, every day."
"Yeah," said Harry, a little embarrassed. He chuckled. "Although, making lunch was a little out of my reach." He hesitated, then said, "I put a good amount of effort into finding a job, too. The recommendation from school was bad, so I got rejected from quite a few places." Turned out not all of Harry's teachers were as nice as Professor Dumbledore. "But I finally found a place recently. It's a small electrical company. The office is pretty close." He spoke as the thoughts came to him, glad that he was able to tell her. "It's in the town. Commuting will be easy." Then he ran out of things to say. Still smiling, he looked away from Hermione's radiance again, the strength of the proud look on her face too much to handle. "And that's all I have to tell you," Harry finished quietly.
After a few seconds of silence, Harry looked back up at her, longing in his eyes. "Hey," he said. "How…how did I use to talk to you?" he asked. "What did we talk about, and…and how did I make you laugh?"
Hermione's expression remained unwaveringly neutral, leaving Harry to fall into silence. Which reminded him. "You and I can't walk the same path," he said, not feeling as down about it now that he had been able to see her one more time. "I'm sure you're headed somewhere far away from here. You can go much farther than me!" he said with conviction, his belief absolute. "But I can't…" he said sadly, his voice low again. "I'm stuck here. I'll be here forever. That's the kind of person I am."
Hermione finally spoke up again. "Then if you can't get to me…I'll come to you," she said with conviction of her own. Harry's mouth parted slightly in surprise, a strangled gasp leaving his mouth. "I'll come to you," she said again.
"Why?" Harry asked, underlying anger making its way into his voice as he recovered from the shock. "You can go to a better place, don't you see?" he said, his voice rising. "You can go to a good college, meet a lot of people, and make new goals and meet them!" Why couldn't she understand what sort of opportunities she had, if only she let go of him? "You've got higher places waiting for you!" he shouted, his face a bit red as he hyperventilated. "Somewhere much higher than next to me!"
Hermione's expression hadn't changed except for the fact that she had let her eyes close. "Don't belittle yourself so much," she said quietly, her calm tone catching Harry off guard again. "Don't belittle yourself so much," she practically whispered, making Harry feel bad for yelling at her. "It's my choice," she said, opening her eyes again to look at Harry, love and sincerity shining through them. "Rather than a high place crafted by test scores or teacher recommendations, it's you who's dearer to me." Harry was frozen from shock. "So I'm coming to be with you, because being at your side is the highest place I can be!" she said firmly, resolutely, in a tone that brooked no argument. "I'll come to you with everything I've got!"
And as it dawned on Harry what she meant, what he had been too stupid to realize all along, he smiled both at his stupidity and the clarity Hermione inspired within him. "I'll go," he said quietly, this time catching Hermione off guard. "It's a little late, but I'll go to where you are, too."
He smiled at her, feeling at that moment as though he was whole for the first time since he had broken up with her. Then her face crumpled and she let out a choked sob, tears beginning to make their way down her face. "Harry…" she said shakily, joy and relief in her voice. "Harry!"
Then Harry could feel his chest constricting, his heart rising to his burning throat. "What?" he said. "What?!"
He ran the three steps separating them and hugged her hard, his tears beginning to fall too. It felt so good.
Hermione continued crying and clutched his shirt, crying into his shoulder. "What?" Harry asked again, trying his best to hold the rest of his tears at bay. "Don't cry," he said shakily, tightening his grip on her. "Don't…don't cry…" he said, sniffling.
Don't cry…I love you.
o.O.o.O.o.O.o
One Year Later
Harry pulled his shirt over his head and made his way downstairs, smiling when he saw Hermione writing furiously on a sheet of paper, her schoolbook open next to her. He snuck up behind her and gave her a kiss on the cheek, making her jump. "Harry!" she scolded him, though as he sat down at the table opposite her he saw her smile down at her book and lightly touch her cheek.
Harry smiled back at her as he began his breakfast even though she couldn't see it, glad that everything ended as it should have.
They both were at their highest places.
A/N: So…not too sure about the ending. Maybe a little too cheesy?
I hope you didn't hate this writing style. I was trying to capture the mood of an episode of anime, which is kinda difficult. I would've written the scenes and dialogue differently (a lot of it came directly from the anime), and definitely changed a couple parts, but I like a good challenge. Hopefully it wasn't too bad.
Thanks for reading and please leave a review if you can spare the time!