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‘You look so hot right now,’ I look up, Tom is striding over to me, looking as handsome and as confident as ever. I, on the other hand, look like a drowned rat. When I first decided to sit in the garden, by the big oak tree, it had been a lovely sunny day, but then the British weather kicked in and it started to pour it down. I’m numb from cold, shivering slightly too but too stubborn to admit defeat. My clothes are wet through, sticking to my skin and my hair, I dread to even think what the rain has done to my already a mess hair. Hot? Only Tom would ever think so.
‘C-cold.’ I inform him and then sneeze, just to drive home the point. Tom chuckles and ruffles my wet hair, sending water everywhere. It’s dripping down my nose and clinging to my lips. I can feel raindrops on every single eyelash. I never felt less sexy in my life.
‘And yet,’ Tom crouches down in front of me and with more gentleness than he’d ever let anyone else see, brushes my hair from my eyes ‘you’re still extraordinarily sexy.’ I blink up at him, trying to see if he’s taking the piss.
‘Ha,’ I knock his hand away ‘What are you doing out here?’
‘I came to find out why my beloved was sitting in the garden, getting rained on.’ Oh, that made sense. He reaches out a hand ‘There’s no reason to sit in the rain, come back into the warm.’
‘It was sunny and warm when I came out here,’ I stand as gracefully as I can, stuffing the handwritten notes I had brought out to read into my jacket pocket as I do so. I quickly try to dust myself off as much as I can, trying to ignore the fact that Tom is silently watching my every move. He says nothing, but he never needs to, his mere presence is enough to turn me into a nervous, awkward wreck.
Tom stands much more gracefully than I do, his pureblood statues shining through. Have you ever seen an ungainly Slytherin? They’re always so damn smooth and refined. I squinted at him through my glasses, life just wasn’t fair.
‘What was that paper you just stashed away?’ His tone is light and curious, his face impassive.
‘Do you remember when we looked through my parent’s home?’ He nods, the lines of his mouth tightening ever so slightly. When I told him, I wanted to see the Potter home, he was shocked and a little angry. I don’t think he ever really understood why I wanted to go back to my old home and pick through the rubble, but I just had to. Even I can’t fully explain why. ‘I found a box in my parents’ wardrobe. It was mums. She had kept letters dad had sent to her when they were dating. I felt ready to read them today.’
Tom pulls me close and kissed the top of my head affectionally. ‘Course you did.’ I lifted myself up on my tip toes and kissed him on the lips, my arms wrapping themselves around his slender neck. He grabs me by my butt and pulls me closer, squeezing my cheeks as he does so.
He pushes us backwards and my back slams against the hoarse bark of the oak tree, the kiss turning more passionate and a sense of urgency seems to wash over Tom. He tugs at my jeans, trying to pull them down.
‘Ok, no.’ I break off the kiss and push his hands off me ‘I don’t mind kissing you in the rain, but that’s as far as I’m going.’ As if to reinforce my words, thunder roars overhead and lightning streaks across the sky. The rain is coming down even harder now and there is no part of us that isn’t wet.
‘Fair point.’ Tom concedes. ‘Let’s go inside, screw like horny animals and then maybe, we can read your parents notes together.’ He rests his forehead against mine and looks into my eyes, he’s never been more sincere than in that moment.
‘I’d like that.’
Tom carries me inside the manor and we spend the rest of the afternoon wrapped up in soft blankets in front of the warm fireplace in Tom’s study, ignoring the rain and reading the love notes written by my father to my mother by candlelight.