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Leander Prewett was what you might call a late bloomer.
Tall and gangly, he was frequently teased by his classmates, friends and foes alike, for his ungainly walk, his ears that stuck out just a little too far, his long face, and his liberal dusting of freckles which were always at their most prominent at the beginning of the school year, having spent the bulk of his summer holidays helping his parents work their family farm. Whatever he tried, he always felt like he was doing it wrong; he was either too much or not enough - too eager to impress but not skilled enough to actually be impressive.
He would take all the ribbing and the teasing in stride, giving as good as he got most of the time, and telling himself that the taunts were all in good fun, but in his quiet moments when he had no choice but to be honest with himself, he could freely admit that he hated it. He hated that his best friend, Garreth Weasley, was similarly red-haired and freckled but was roguish and handsome rather than clumsy and gawky; he hated that Sebastian Sallow, the cocky little blighter, had effortless, windswept charm that made most of the girls and many of the boys in their year breathless; he hated that Ominis Gaunt couldn’t even see himself but still managed an air of aristocratic sophistication everyday without fail (although he supposed that if he had to choose between having cheekbones that could cut glass and being born into an imperfect but loving family that weren’t pureblood zealots, he knew which one he’d choose).
He was a capable young wizard, with a sharp mind, considerable skill, and more fortitude than he gave himself credit for, but it wasn’t always easy for him to see what he had when his attention was so frequently - and painfully - drawn to what he felt he lacked.
But time is its own kind of magic, and somewhere between the end of his sixth year and the beginning of his seventh, Leander Prewett slowly shed the awkwardness of boyhood and became a young man. His height was now balanced by the broadness of his shoulders and chest, and he was no longer lanky but strapping; his ears were still too prominent as far as he was concerned and his face was still too long for his liking, but his jaw had filled out and sharpened; and his freckles…well, they were still there, but now they seemed to set off his hazel eyes, bringing out the flecks of green and gold that he always thought looked almost muddy, but now brought to mind fields of grass and wheat in the golden hours of summer.
One of the only people who didn’t seem to notice Leander Prewett’s newfound handsomeness was Leander Prewett. He didn’t catch the looks he got as he walked from the common room to the Great Hall. He attributed the ever-present giggling to the usual teasing and not to blushing appreciation of the way he now filled out his uniform. And even when Garreth mentioned to him with a knowing smirk that he overheard some fifth year girls talking about how Leander was one of the best-looking boys in the school, he dismissed it out of hand as nonsense. He still felt like the bumbling boy who couldn’t seem to win a duel or a Summoner’s Court match, who was almost levelled by a Hebridean Black skeleton, and who couldn’t seem to say the right thing around anyone. He didn’t think this would ever change, so he tried his best to accept it. Some boys were charming and handsome and they’d grow into dashing, confident men with the world at their feet. And he was just…him.
Unbeknownst to him, there was one other person who hadn’t noticed how much Leander had changed - MC (whom Garreth had taken to calling Third Year since he had decided she needed reminding that she hadn’t been at Hogwarts as long as the rest of them) looked at him as she always had, and treated him with the same quiet sweetness she had since the day they met. This isn’t to say she was wholly unaffected by him, though. On the contrary, she wasn’t suddenly captivated by his broad shoulders and chiseled jaw because, to her, he had always been handsome. Had always been special. She had always noticed how sweet his smile was, how his eyes seemed to glitter in the soft light of the greenhouse, how full and soft his lips looked, how his arms were all lean, wiry muscle and his hands were long-fingered and strong. But more importantly, she had always noticed how quick he was to cloak himself in boastfulness and bravado whenever he found himself on the back foot; how you could hear the lightness and smile in his voice when he started to tell a story about his family or talk about one of his favourite subjects, like ancient history, but would then, almost immediately, school his features into an expression of casual indifference to not risk appearing too earnest; how he was the only one who managed to stay awake during History of Magic even though he pretended to be as bored by the subject as the rest of their peers; and how he took their classmates’ taunts on the chin, laughing as though he was in on the joke, but the smile never quite reached his eyes. When his smile did reach his eyes though, it was enough to leave her breathless. There was nothing she loved more than Leander Prewett’s smile, except the boy himself.
She saw what he wanted people to see, but she couldn’t help but think that she also saw what he tried so hard to keep hidden, the cracks in that carefully constructed veneer. And it was precisely those cracks that made her love him as much as she did.
For as much as she saw, though, she didn’t seem to see how much he loved her too, although that had less to do with her powers of perception and more with his practiced ability to conceal that which made him vulnerable. To him, she was extraordinary and perfect in every way - she was kind, clever, funny, and brave, a gifted witch who took to magical education like a mermaid to water even though she had been raised by Muggles in an orphanage, and not to mention she was easily the most beautiful person he’d ever met. She had a smile for everyone (and oh what a smile it was), laughed with her entire body, and when he was near her he felt as though the atmosphere itself was charged, like the air before a lightning storm. And there was no way someone as extraordinary and perfect as her could ever fall for someone as dreadfully ordinary as him.
Convinced as he was of the hopelessness of his affections, he decided he would be content with proximity, and he manoeuvred as much and as discreetly as he could to sit near her in the classes they shared. Of course, he was unaware that she was similarly trying her best to ensure that she claimed the seat next to his whenever it was in her power to do so, and when she saw that there was a single cauldron left at his worktable, she walked as quickly as she could (without going so far as actually sprinting, because that would be dreadfully crass) to claim it.
He was so preoccupied with trying to keep his breathing steady and staring at his textbook to avoid staring at her that he didn’t even hear her greet him until she tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention.
“Oh!” He jumped a bit at the sudden contact, and she immediately withdrew her hand, looking a bit sheepish. “Sorry, so sorry, my mind was elsewhere.” He could feel the blush creep into his cheeks, and hoped the dim lighting of the classroom would hide it somewhat. “Did you say something?”
“I just asked how your summer holiday was,” she replied, a small winsome grin lighting up her lovely face.
“Oh, right, yes.” He chuckled, recovering himself as best he could. “It was great, thank you. Spent most of it helping out around the farm, but my family went on a trip to Egypt in August, which was brilliant. How was yours?”
“Oh it was fine, spent most of it reading - two years on and I still feel as though I have a lifetime of magical education to make up for. Definitely didn’t get up to anything as exciting as a trip to Egypt, though.” That smile - good gods. It made his heart feel like it was about to beat right out of his chest, made him feel like what he had to say might actually be interesting. That he might actually be interesting.
Just as he opened his mouth to start telling her how amazing it was to see the pyramids, and how he’d become fascinated by the life and work of Hypatia whom he’d heard about from his favourite of their local guides, Professor Sharp walked in and began the lesson, putting an end to the conversation.
Leander didn’t have time to be put out by it, though; as Sharp was beginning his instructions on the potion they would be brewing that day, he felt an almost imperceptible tap on his right hand. He looked down and saw that she had slid over a short note:
Walk with me to Herbology and tell me all about Egypt?
He tried with middling success to keep his face as neutral as possible to avoid Sharp’s notice, but he was powerless to stop a small smile from tugging on his lips as he met her gaze and gave her a slight nod.
—
Leander was sure he had never smiled as much as he had that morning. He was halfway through repotting his assigned aconite plant by the time he realized he hadn’t stopped smiling since Potions, and he only noticed it because his cheeks had started to hurt. They’d spent the better part of Herbology talking about everything he’d seen and learned on his trip to Egypt, which turned into a discussion of places they’d be most excited to see once they were done school (Italy for her, Greece for him) and what they were hoping to do once they left Hogwarts (he wanted to be a researcher for the Ministry and she wanted to -
“Run an ice cream parlour? That's what you dream of doing once you leave here?” He was equal parts baffled and delighted. She was brilliant and hardworking and determined, and could likely do anything she wanted once she was finished school.
She found his bafflement very entertaining. “Don’t sound so scandalized, Leander. Not only is ice cream a delightful treat, I actually think it makes good business sense - I already have a shopfront I could run it out of and Hogsmeade could use another spot to get sweets. Honeyduke’s is wonderful, of course, but nothing compares to ice cream.” She went a bit dreamy all of a sudden, looking into the middle distance before giving her head a light shake and turning her gaze back to the dittany they were now working with. “But aside from all that, I like the idea of doing something that brings smiles to people’s faces.”
Of course she did. Merlin, she was so lovely he could hardly bear it.
Garreth could hardly bear it either, watching his two friends be so obviously in love with each other but both too scared or too shy or too stupid to do anything about it. Well, if you want something done, he thought, best to arrange for your friends to be alone together as often as you possibly could. So rather than walk to lunch together as they usually did, he excused himself so he could go ask Professor Sharp something that absolutely could not wait while wearing an up-to-no-good expression that had Leander feeling more than a little wary. Without giving them a chance to respond, he darted off in the direction of the Potions classroom, leaving them to walk together to the Great Hall.
“Do you think he’s ever done anything at a leisurely pace in his entire life?” she asked, grinning conspiratorially at him.
“Not a chance,” he chuckled. “He’s like a great white shark - if he stops moving he won’t be able to breathe.”
She looked at him with curiosity, and more than a little fondness. “It always amazes me how you know so much about so many things.”
He blushed and, hoping to all the gods in every pantheon that she didn’t notice, he donned his well-worn cloak of self-effacement. “Jack of all trades, master of none, I’m afraid,” he responded, a little more bitterly than he intended. Always competent, never the best, he thought to himself.
“But oftentimes better than a master of one,” she responded. He must have looked puzzled, because she continued, “The second part of that expression. It often gets left out, but I think it’s worth remembering.” Much as Leander had a habit of slipping into self-deprecation, she had a habit of noticing it and trying, as gently as she could, to disabuse him of these notions of his own inadequacy. She smiled gently at him, hoping that it held everything she was too shy to put into words.
Seemingly out of nowhere, they heard a throat clearing.
“Afternoon, Prewett,” Andrew Larson said somewhat stiffly. “MC, long time no see.” He chuckled a little at his rhyme, and she returned it with a small laugh of her own, which of course made Leander want to vomit where he stood. Larson turned to face her and, lowering his voice slightly, said, “I was hoping to speak with you.” He shot Leander a furtive glance. “Alone, if that’s alright.”
Leander’s composure was hanging on by a gossamer thread, and to avoid making a spectacle of himself should that thread snap, he replied simply, “Not a problem, see you in the Great Hall.” He turned and walked, long legs carrying him swiftly away as his heartbeat thundered in his ears.
She wanted more than anything to stop him or to follow him, but he was through the greenhouse doors and out of sight before she could even open her mouth.
—
“You and Third Year seemed very friendly today,” Garreth said to Leander as they sat down for lunch, the implications dripping from his voice like honey as he wiggled his eyebrows and winked suggestively.
“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” Leander replied, spooning potatoes onto his plate with perhaps a bit more focus and vigour than was strictly necessary.
“Of course you don’t —” Garreth looked up suddenly towards the entrance to the Great Hall. “Oi! Third Year!”
Leander’s facade of cool nonchalance crashed to the floor as he whipped his head up to look in the direction of the doors, whereupon he realized three things: 1) she wasn’t there, 2) he had made his preoccupation with MC all too obvious to Garreth, who would surely never let this go, and 3) his best friend was a dick (although in fairness he already suspected that last one).
Garreth met Leander’s truly impressive scowl with a shit-eating grin of his own as he speared a carrot with his fork. “Mate, it’s alright, I’ve known for ages that you’re arse over tea kettle in love with Third Year. What I don’t understand is why you don’t just tell her already when she clearly fancies you too.”
Leander was properly upset now. It was one thing to be teased about being infatuated with a girl, but his best friend making a mockery of his feelings by suggesting something that he wanted with every fibre of his being but knew could never be was too much for him, especially as she had almost certainly just agreed to go out with Andrew Larson. “Drop it, Garreth, I’m not in the mood.”
“Lee, I’m being completely serious, she absolutely fancies — ”
“I said fucking drop it,” Leander said in a stern and slightly raised voice, anger simmering just below the surface and threatening to boil over any second. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore, and if you don’t drop it I’m leaving.”
Garreth knew a losing battle when he saw one, and he raised his hands in surrender. “Consider it dropped.” Just then, he looked up somewhere behind and to the left of Leander and waved. “Hello there, Third Year! Care to join us?”
Leander scoffed. “Not falling for it again, mate.”
“Falling for what?”
Leander felt in that moment that, if there was any justice in this world, the floor would kindly swallow him whole and never spit him out. Alas, he remained where he was, and tried to keep calm as the object of his unrequited affections and the unwitting cause of the tension between himself and his best friend sat down next to him.
“Oh, just a stupid joke from earlier, it’s nothing,” he replied as he glanced up at her. Merlin, she was pretty. Too pretty. It made him giddy and upset at the same time, but then she smiled at him, and even though he was still reeling from the thought of her and Larson falling desperately in love and getting married and having perfect children and a perfect life together, he felt that warm, weightless feeling she inspired just by existing.
He pushed past the tension and allowed himself to fall into easy conversation with his two friends, but just as he started to feel some sense of social equilibrium, he heard a light, girlish voice call his name.
Behind Garreth stood Sacharissa Tugwood, who was looking at Leander expectantly.
“Hello, Sacharissa,” he replied, “did you need something?”
“Yes, actually,” she said with a coquettish grin. “I was wondering if you might want to take me to the Three Broomsticks this weekend.”
He wasn’t sure how long he let her invitation hang in the air. In reality it couldn’t have been more than a few seconds but to him, it felt like hours passed as he analyzed the situation before him: he was undeniably in love with MC, whose closeness to him made him feel as though he was on fire, but he was certain she would never return his feelings, and he was also still smarting from his earlier conversation with Garreth, and was eager to prove him wrong. So he put on what he hoped was at least an approximation of a flirtatious smile and said, “Sure, sounds like fun.”
Sacharissa’s smile widened ever so slightly as Garreth tried his damnedest to keep from openly scolding his idiot friend. “Wonderful,” she said with a giggle. “You can meet me at the entrance to my common room at half six on Saturday.” She gave him a dainty wave goodbye and walked away, unaware of the disaster she was leaving in her wake
If he’d been able to meet MC’s gaze, he’d have noticed that her eyes (the loveliest eyes he’d ever seen) were a bit shinier than usual. However, he focused resolutely on his plate of food, and barely looked up when she announced, in a faintly watery voice, that she needed to run to the library before their next class.
Garreth, to his credit, held his tongue for the rest of lunch, but the damage had been done.
Leander didn’t smile again for the rest of the day.
—
Leander’s mood continued to darken as the weekend approached, and by the time he woke up on Saturday morning, he couldn’t fathom why he had agreed to go out with Sacharissa. Once the dust settled in his mind, he realized that he barely knew her. She seemed nice enough, but how many times had they actually spoken to each other? Who were her friends? What kinds of things was she interested in? Well, he supposed he had at least a few hours of time he’d have to spend with her, so perhaps knowing so little about her was a blessing in disguise - at least he’d have plenty of things to ask her about.
This didn’t make him feel better in the slightest.
He considered feigning an illness to get out of it, but quickly scolded himself. Leander was many things, but he wasn’t a coward, and his mother raised him with better principles than this. So he dutifully went to the entrance of the Hufflepuff common room five minutes before the appointed time, told his date how lovely she looked, and offered her his arm as they walked to Hogsmeade, like a proper gentleman should.
But when, in his attempts to make conversation, he mentioned his family’s trip to Egypt and she reacted with a barely interested “Oh, how nice,” he knew it was over before it had even really begun. He remembered how excited MC had been when he mentioned the trip and how genuinely interested she was to hear all about the things he had seen and learned, and he realized that she was the only one, apart from his mother and maybe Garreth, who never made him feel as though his interests were foolish. As nervous as he was around her, she never made him feel like he had to pretend to be more suave or debonair than he actually was. Around her, he felt like he was enough. He could just be. And even if his feelings for her were doomed to remain unrequited, he was wise enough to know that feeling wholly accepted and appreciated by someone and not just tolerated for the sake of social niceties was what he wanted. He worried that he’d never find this with anyone but he knew beyond any doubt, by the time he had walked Sacharissa back to her common room (with neither of them making any mention of doing this again), that he wouldn’t settle for less.
It didn’t cure the heartache, but it didn’t make him feel worse, and that was at least something.
—
It was an hour past curfew by the time he made it back to Gryffindor Tower, and he was really hoping that the common room would be deserted. However, little else had gone right for him in the last few days so he wasn’t surprised to see MC, looking up at him as he entered from her seat on the couch in front of the fireplace.
“You’re up late,” he said, moving trepidatiously towards her.
“Care to join me? Being a career night owl can get pretty lonely.” She patted the seat next to her and he wasted little time taking her up on the offer of company and closeness. “How did, uh…how did your date go?”
“It was, um…well, it…it was fine, I suppose.” He stared unwaveringly at the flames burning low in the hearth, not quite feeling up to making eye contact with her just yet.
“Please, Leander, do try to contain your enthusiasm, it’s bordering on indecent.” He could hear the smirk in her voice, and it made his hands shake and his stomach do cartwheels.
He chuckled, and found himself able to look at her then, her lovely, perfect face glowing in the dim firelight. “I’m terribly sorry, I’ll do my best not to offend your delicate sensibilities.” Merlin, he adored her. Just being near her had him feeling lighter than he had all evening.
“In all seriousness, though, I hope it didn’t go too badly. And if it did, I hope you’re not terribly disappointed.”
“No, it’s fine,” he replied. “Truth be told, I didn’t have high hopes in the first place. Don’t even really know why I agreed to it.” He noticed a shift in her expression to one he couldn’t quite read. Instantly, he was worried that his gloom was contagious. “But don’t let my unsuccessful romantic endeavours scare you off yours - I’m sure whatever you and Larson get up to, you’ll have a grand old time.”
Her eyes sharpened at this, her face turning quizzical. “Larson? Andrew Larson, you mean? What would we get up to?”
Whatever he had been expecting her to say, it wasn’t this. “I mean…I’m sorry if that was a bit presumptuous of me, I…it just - it looked like Larson was going to ask you out when we were leaving Herbology the other day.”
“He did,” she replied. “Ask me out, I mean.”
“And you said yes, I assume.”
“You assume wrongly.”
If someone had told him that, at that precise moment, the earth stopped turning on its axis and time itself stood still, he’d have had no trouble believing it. He tried desperately to keep his breathing under control, and worried that his heart was beating so loudly that it would immediately give away every ounce of feeling he fought so desperately to keep hidden. He wanted to cheer, cry, and dance all at the same time. Of course, he did none of those things, instead taking out his wand and twirling it between his fingers to channel the nervous energy threatening to burst forth.
She took advantage of his attention being elsewhere to process his reaction, and though she’d never show it, she was nearly breathless with rekindled hope. Has he been jealous this whole time? Did he only agree to go out with Sacharissa because he thought I had agreed to go out with Andrew? Am I an idiot? Is he an idiot? Are we both hopeless, gormless idiots with nary an iota of sense between us? After a few moments of silence only broken by the occasional pop from the fireplace, she rallied her spirits and got to her feet. “Come with me, I want to show you something.”
He knew full well he’d follow her anywhere and do anything she asked of him, but he figured he should at least make a gesture, albeit an empty one, towards minding the rules. “But it’s late, well past curfew. Won’t we get into trouble?”
She shot him an impish grin as she made for the portrait hole. “Nighttime security in this place is actually a lot more slipshod than people realize. Also we’re in our last year, what’s the worst they can do to us? A few measly detentions? Call upon your sense of adventure, Leander, I know you’ve got it in you, exemplary Gryffindor that you are. And I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”
She smiled at him, a guileful, cheeky smile, and he was a goner. She could have asked him to walk all the way to London and back and he would have done it. He barely paused to think before getting up to follow her.
—
“We broke curfew…to sneak into the greenhouses?” He was delighted for any chance to spend time with her, of course, but he had to admit that he was very puzzled by this. What could she possibly have to show him in the greenhouses that they didn’t see every week in Herbology?
“Oh, ye of little faith,” she said as she walked ahead of him, down the steps and towards the large tree furthest from the entrance. “I’ll have you know that this is one of my favourite places in the entire castle.”
“I mean, sure, it’s very nice, but I’d hardly call this ‘worth my while,’” he said, following closely behind her.
“I’ll pretend I’m not deeply and catastrophically wounded by your implication that my company alone is not worth your while, sir. And you’re going to feel very foolish once I show you my secret spot.”
“You’re not about to lure me into the hidden Herbology corridor, are you?” He was teasing, but he wouldn’t put it past her to do something outrageous in the name of a bit of fun.
She laughed. “No, but continue to doubt me and I’ll consider it. Ah, here we are.”
She gestured with absurd grandeur towards the floor by the little pond at the back of the greenhouse, and for the first time Leander noticed that there was a small staircase there, descending and curving out of sight.
She giggled delightedly at his stunned expression and said “I told you so” with as much smugness as she felt she had earned. “If you’ll follow me, Mr. Prewett…”
He followed her down the stairs and into what felt like another world. The stairs led them to a small stone chamber with a large window that gave them an underwater view of the pond - several varieties of aquatic flora grew on algae-covered stones as well as the tree’s impressive root system, and the scene cast an ethereal blue glow over them, making him feel as though he had entered some kind of ancient fey realm. He found himself wondering if this is what the Slytherin common room might look like, with its windows into the Black Lake, and he begrudgingly admitted that it might not be so bad to be in Slytherin if this was the case.
“How did you find this place?” he asked as he sat down next to her. She must have put some sort of cushioning charm on the floor, because the hard stone felt more like plush carpet.
“When I first got to Hogwarts, I was constantly exploring. I mean constantly. If I wasn’t in class or doing assignments, I was going over this castle with a fine-tooth comb.” He looked over at her and saw that she had gone a bit wistful, with a tinge of sadness that someone who didn’t spend as much time memorizing every one of her most minute expressions the way he did likely wouldn’t notice. “You can’t imagine how overwhelming it all was,” she continued, almost whispering now. “Finding out that I was a witch, leaving the only home I’d ever known, meeting more new people in the span of a week than I’d ever known in the whole course of my life, it was…a lot. It was incredible, don’t mistake me, but still…it was too much to bear at times.”
He was momentarily stunned. This didn't line up at all with how he had perceived her in that first year - she made everything look so effortless, like she'd been doing magic all her life. Although, he realized as he took in her expression, it must be extraordinarily difficult to make everything look easy. “You handled it well,” he replied, after a brief pause. "You picked everything up so quickly, and everyone liked you almost immediately. I’ve been here for seven years and I’ve only managed to get you and Garreth to like me.” He cringed a bit at his self-deprecation, realizing perhaps for the first time just how much he relied on it when he was uncomfortable.
“I’ll ignore that demonstrably false claim for the moment,” she replied with a rueful smile. “But truthfully I wasn’t handling it so much as covering it,” she said, her gaze returning to the underwater tableau in front of them. “I was convinced that the only way people would like me was if I did any and every favour they asked of me, so I ran myself ragged, the irony of course being that I would consider less than half of those people to be my true friends.” She steeled herself, and continued. “Anyway, the reason I say all of this is because, back when I was just getting my footing here, I found myself in need of somewhere to hide away. Somewhere quiet, and safe. I found this place one night after dinner - the greenhouse was deserted, and it was the perfect retreat. It became a sort of ritual for me; I’d eat dinner as quickly as I could and then come here to rest a bit before curfew. Collect my thoughts, and just…be still.” She turned to look at him, her eyes ablaze with determination . “This place has also helped me shore up my courage when I’ve needed it, and I find myself in need of a bit of courage now because I have to ask you something.”
He swallowed thickly, and willed himself to speak. “Of course, you can ask me anything.”
She let out a small exhale. “Were you upset when you thought I had agreed to go out with Andrew Larson?”
Shit, he thought. It was all over now, of that he was certain. The feelings he’d been trying with all his might to keep at bay would now be exposed, and he had never been more terrified in his life. In that moment, though, he also felt the most profound sense of relief - this thing inside of him that was constantly roiling, constantly struggling to be set free would finally be released, and he wouldn’t have to live in fear of it anymore.
“Yes,” he all but whispered, staring intently at his hands.
A pause.
“And is that why you agreed to go out with Sacharissa?”
His hands were shaking, and he was worried he might actually start to cry, but he soldiered on. “Yes. At least, that was mostly why. I was also annoyed at Garreth for something he’d said before you joined us at lunch.”
“What did he say?”
The words were flowing so freely now. He was still frightened, but he also felt strong, as though he was finally equal to his fear. He felt, for the first time, like he could lay his feelings bare, and by Merlin he intended to.
“He’d been teasing me about fancying you, saying that I should just ask you out already.”
“And why didn’t you?”
He turned to face her - if he was going to do this, he was going to do it properly and look her in the eye. Oh, those eyes. I hope I’ll still get to see them after this. “Because I didn’t want to ruin things,” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I thought you’d either let me down easy or maybe even say yes out of some misguided sense of pity. Either way, our friendship would be forever altered, and I…I couldn’t risk that. I couldn’t. Because even though I’m completely and madly in love with you, I also just…love you. You’re one of my best friends, and I would rather pine for you in silence for the rest of my life than do anything to damage this.”
And there it was. It was out. He loved her, and now she knew. The pause that followed his confession felt heavy, like an erumpent was sitting on his chest.
Then, to his astonishment, she laughed, with her head thrown back and eyes closed. When she collected herself and looked at him, he was stunned by the emotion in her eyes - it was pure, unmistakable adoration.
“My sweet, sweet Leander,” she said, reaching over and taking his hand in hers, twining their fingers together and squeezing lightly. “How are you so clever but so clueless?”
“Just talented, I suppose,” he said with a sigh that morphed into a breathy giggle. What is happening? Does this mean what I think it means? Please let it mean what I think it means. Oh my gods, I just giggled in front of her. She’s going to change her mind now, she could never be with someone who does something as undignified as giggling. Wait, no, no she wouldn’t do that, because she’s kind and lovely and perfect and she’s holding your hand because Garreth was right and she actually does fancy you, and this is actually happening, ohgodsohgodsohgods -
She scooted nearer to him, interrupting the runaway train of his thoughts with her closeness. There were so many things she still wanted to say to him, but for the moment all of that would have to wait. She brought her hands up to rest lightly on his chest, feeling it rise and fall with the same brisk tempo of her own. “Leander, if it’s alright with you, I’d very much like to kiss you now.”
Before he had time to think himself into a state of undiluted worry, he took her face in his shaking hands and they came together in a sweet, chaste kiss. It started out achingly tender, it being the first kiss either of them had shared with anyone, but all it took was a sharp intake of breath from her to light a fire in him that he didn’t think he ever wanted to put out. He deepened the kiss, increasing the pressure of his lips on hers and moving one of his hands to her waist, pausing for a moment as if to silently ask her permission to touch her this way. She arched her body further into his in response, allowing him to slip his arm around to the small of her back. Her hands traced up his chest, moving slowly through the hair at the nape of his neck and making him shiver with unbridled want. This was uncharted territory for the both of them, and though she wanted nothing more than to feel him shiver just like that again and again and again, and he never wanted to stop exploring her body with his hands, they could both sense that they were teetering on a precipice from which there was no return. And there would be time to jump off that ledge later, but they were in no hurry. Right now, they both felt safe, at peace in the warm glow of truths revealed and feelings returned.
After what felt like hours, they pulled apart, foreheads resting against one another. “Please say we can do that again,” Leander said, grinning like an idiot and breathing as though he’d just run ten laps around the Quidditch pitch. She let out a short, sharp laugh.
“I was rather hoping we could make a habit of it.”
He beamed in response.
“Oh, and just so there can be no misunderstandings or misapprehensions about all this, I’d like to state for the record that I love you too, Leander. I’m in love with you. And loath as I am to give Garreth any reason whatsoever to gloat, he may have been onto something when he suggested that you should just ask me out already.” He groaned a little at that but couldn’t find it in him to be too put out by it because before he knew it she was kissing him again and he felt like he could float away if not for her lips and hands tethering him to the earth. And if Garreth’s gloating was the price he had to pay for moments like this one, he’d gladly pay it hundreds and thousands of times over.