Post by morethanacrush on Nov 7, 2006 7:46:18 GMT -5
A/N: Um... this isn't one of those Jean Brodie fics (anyone wanna explain those to me, cause I'm clueless over here) or any other series. Just my story. lol. reviews would be great please!
Love
Cody*
Harry Potter felt nervous, excited, and even possibly pessimistic and optimistic at the same time. She could say yes, she could say no… he repeated in his mind over and over, as he approached the emerald green cloak in front of him. He could see her curly, reddish dark hair half blowing in the cold, harsh wind in front of him, as he made his way closer and closer. She was standing with her back facing him, which he supposed was a very good thing, because he didn’t know what his face reflected he was feeling right now. His hands were underneath his own black cloak, wringing nervously. He finally stopped right behind her, and like he always did, he instantly felt warmer despite the cold. He smiled, before leaning over and softly whispering in her ear through the cloak, “Hello.”
She jumped, and whipped around, her smile lighting up Harry’s world. He suddenly felt the confidence he needed to get through this night. Her emerald green eyes danced at him, as she flung her arms around his neck, and laughed out loud. He sighed to himself contently as he listened to her laugh. He loved her.
She pulled away from him, and shook her head jokingly. “Don’t scare me like that Harry!” she laughed again, and linked her arm in with his, and they both stepped out of the autumn cold, and into the warm, small, restaurant. Harry had spent two weeks with his best friends, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, and even his ex girlfriend, Ginny Weasley; with whom he was glad the break up was not messy at all, picking out this restaurant. Harry quickly gave him the hostess, a smiling old woman with laugh lines on her face and dancing blue eyes, his name, and she smiled at the two of them, before requesting that they follow her to the table.
She was telling him about her day, as Harry was did not need to ask her anymore, it had become custom to tell each other about their day. He listened intently, but not as intently as he would have liked, but he hoped she would forgive him by the end of the night and she knew what was going on inside his head.
They sat down, and took off their cloaks, and he watched her to reveal her slightly pale skin and her favorite little red dress, with the golden trimmings. It had been her mother’s, Harry had been told, and back when her mother was a student, and also a Gryffindor just like her father and Harry’s parents. Harry wondered what her mother would be like; he’d so rather ask her parent’s permission before he asked the beautiful, wonderful woman in front of him first. Her father, he had also been told, was rather fond of old traditions, and Harry was sure if he had asked her father first, it would have put him in good faith with him.
Her cheeks were slowly becoming less rosy from the cold, as well as her nose. Harry loved it when her nose became rosy from the cold; she looked just adorable. But, then again, he also picked fights with this woman, just to be able to see her get angry before he completely devours her.
She was laughing again, and that put a smile on Harry’s lips. He noticed that indeed he had ordered, and the waiter came rather briskly to their table to give it to them. He picked at his food; his stomach wasn’t in the mood to take on food while the thought of her quite possibly saying no was on his brain.
He waited patiently for her, and decided to remember all the times she had told him she loved him, and it put another dreamy smile on his face.
“What’s with you today, Harry Potter?” He looked up at her; she was always calling him his full name when she was teasing him.
He shrugged, giving her a grin, before intertwining his leg around hers. She frowned, still smiling. “Not in public,” she grinned and laughed, as she kicked his leg playfully away.
He watched her dark reddish ringlets, not naturally like this; he’s used to seeing her with her straight hair straight. But tonight, she’s decided to go with curls, which perfectly depict her playful personality. If this is what her mother is like, which is what she’s been telling him for eight months – that her father, hell, even she thinks she’s exactly like her mother in so many ways – than Harry was positive that he’d get along with her mother very well… hopefully.
They finished their game of rough footsie, just in time for the waiter to come and take their half-full plates away. She never ate a full plate of food, which is one of the things that bothers him, yet not in an angry way, but in a worrying way. How was she supposed to get all her nutrition in only half a meal?
They both declined desert, it’s become tradition that they go for a walk around the town before they decide whether they would like desert. And even then, they go to a candy store – she has a horrible sweet tooth.
Harry fingered the box in his pocket. Another thing he had spent two weeks deciding which one – the ring. He slowly stood up as she took a sip of her red wine, and he slowly got down on one knee. She frowned at him for a slip second, her full lips parting to ask him what he was doing, before he pulled a small velvet box from his pocket. Her hand flew to her mouth in a gasp, and he took her other hand and squeezed it.
“Sophia Jones… will you marry me?”
Harry scolded himself for not using the whole speech about how he felt like he’d known her all his life and she lit up his entire world. But the simple speech seemed to have worked, because she leapt into his arms as he stood, and she kept whispering “yes, yes” into his ear as he slid the ring gently on her finger.
She pulled away from him, with tears of joy in her eyes, and she bit her lip in an attempt not to scream with excitement. Harry pulled her in and kissed her hard, before letting her go. He started to explain how he had wanted to ask her father’s permission first, and perhaps meet her parents, but he simply couldn’t wait until then to ask her to marry him. She laughed her reply, saying that she was going to ask him tonight if he would like to go up to her parent’s castle and meet them; perhaps spend the weekend up there.
Harry grinned. “I would love it. Hopefully your dad won’t be mad that I asked you before I asked him.”
Sophie, her preferred name instead of Sophia, grinned as well, as she gave him a quick kiss on the lips. “Actually, do you mind if we don’t tell them? At least then you can ask, and after dad says yes, we can say that you asked me in the rooms that night.”
“Are you sure he’ll say yes?” Suddenly, Harry was nervous again. Sophie gave him another quick kiss, before grabbing her cloak off the bench of the booth, and Harry followed suit.
“Of course he’ll say yes – I’m marrying the famous Harry Potter!” she laughed. “The boy who lived! And the boy who stole my heart.” She gave him another, longer kiss.
As he led Sophie out the door and into the cold, Harry wasn’t so sure he was going to live through this weekend with her parents.
Love
Cody*
Harry Potter felt nervous, excited, and even possibly pessimistic and optimistic at the same time. She could say yes, she could say no… he repeated in his mind over and over, as he approached the emerald green cloak in front of him. He could see her curly, reddish dark hair half blowing in the cold, harsh wind in front of him, as he made his way closer and closer. She was standing with her back facing him, which he supposed was a very good thing, because he didn’t know what his face reflected he was feeling right now. His hands were underneath his own black cloak, wringing nervously. He finally stopped right behind her, and like he always did, he instantly felt warmer despite the cold. He smiled, before leaning over and softly whispering in her ear through the cloak, “Hello.”
She jumped, and whipped around, her smile lighting up Harry’s world. He suddenly felt the confidence he needed to get through this night. Her emerald green eyes danced at him, as she flung her arms around his neck, and laughed out loud. He sighed to himself contently as he listened to her laugh. He loved her.
She pulled away from him, and shook her head jokingly. “Don’t scare me like that Harry!” she laughed again, and linked her arm in with his, and they both stepped out of the autumn cold, and into the warm, small, restaurant. Harry had spent two weeks with his best friends, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, and even his ex girlfriend, Ginny Weasley; with whom he was glad the break up was not messy at all, picking out this restaurant. Harry quickly gave him the hostess, a smiling old woman with laugh lines on her face and dancing blue eyes, his name, and she smiled at the two of them, before requesting that they follow her to the table.
She was telling him about her day, as Harry was did not need to ask her anymore, it had become custom to tell each other about their day. He listened intently, but not as intently as he would have liked, but he hoped she would forgive him by the end of the night and she knew what was going on inside his head.
They sat down, and took off their cloaks, and he watched her to reveal her slightly pale skin and her favorite little red dress, with the golden trimmings. It had been her mother’s, Harry had been told, and back when her mother was a student, and also a Gryffindor just like her father and Harry’s parents. Harry wondered what her mother would be like; he’d so rather ask her parent’s permission before he asked the beautiful, wonderful woman in front of him first. Her father, he had also been told, was rather fond of old traditions, and Harry was sure if he had asked her father first, it would have put him in good faith with him.
Her cheeks were slowly becoming less rosy from the cold, as well as her nose. Harry loved it when her nose became rosy from the cold; she looked just adorable. But, then again, he also picked fights with this woman, just to be able to see her get angry before he completely devours her.
She was laughing again, and that put a smile on Harry’s lips. He noticed that indeed he had ordered, and the waiter came rather briskly to their table to give it to them. He picked at his food; his stomach wasn’t in the mood to take on food while the thought of her quite possibly saying no was on his brain.
He waited patiently for her, and decided to remember all the times she had told him she loved him, and it put another dreamy smile on his face.
“What’s with you today, Harry Potter?” He looked up at her; she was always calling him his full name when she was teasing him.
He shrugged, giving her a grin, before intertwining his leg around hers. She frowned, still smiling. “Not in public,” she grinned and laughed, as she kicked his leg playfully away.
He watched her dark reddish ringlets, not naturally like this; he’s used to seeing her with her straight hair straight. But tonight, she’s decided to go with curls, which perfectly depict her playful personality. If this is what her mother is like, which is what she’s been telling him for eight months – that her father, hell, even she thinks she’s exactly like her mother in so many ways – than Harry was positive that he’d get along with her mother very well… hopefully.
They finished their game of rough footsie, just in time for the waiter to come and take their half-full plates away. She never ate a full plate of food, which is one of the things that bothers him, yet not in an angry way, but in a worrying way. How was she supposed to get all her nutrition in only half a meal?
They both declined desert, it’s become tradition that they go for a walk around the town before they decide whether they would like desert. And even then, they go to a candy store – she has a horrible sweet tooth.
Harry fingered the box in his pocket. Another thing he had spent two weeks deciding which one – the ring. He slowly stood up as she took a sip of her red wine, and he slowly got down on one knee. She frowned at him for a slip second, her full lips parting to ask him what he was doing, before he pulled a small velvet box from his pocket. Her hand flew to her mouth in a gasp, and he took her other hand and squeezed it.
“Sophia Jones… will you marry me?”
Harry scolded himself for not using the whole speech about how he felt like he’d known her all his life and she lit up his entire world. But the simple speech seemed to have worked, because she leapt into his arms as he stood, and she kept whispering “yes, yes” into his ear as he slid the ring gently on her finger.
She pulled away from him, with tears of joy in her eyes, and she bit her lip in an attempt not to scream with excitement. Harry pulled her in and kissed her hard, before letting her go. He started to explain how he had wanted to ask her father’s permission first, and perhaps meet her parents, but he simply couldn’t wait until then to ask her to marry him. She laughed her reply, saying that she was going to ask him tonight if he would like to go up to her parent’s castle and meet them; perhaps spend the weekend up there.
Harry grinned. “I would love it. Hopefully your dad won’t be mad that I asked you before I asked him.”
Sophie, her preferred name instead of Sophia, grinned as well, as she gave him a quick kiss on the lips. “Actually, do you mind if we don’t tell them? At least then you can ask, and after dad says yes, we can say that you asked me in the rooms that night.”
“Are you sure he’ll say yes?” Suddenly, Harry was nervous again. Sophie gave him another quick kiss, before grabbing her cloak off the bench of the booth, and Harry followed suit.
“Of course he’ll say yes – I’m marrying the famous Harry Potter!” she laughed. “The boy who lived! And the boy who stole my heart.” She gave him another, longer kiss.
As he led Sophie out the door and into the cold, Harry wasn’t so sure he was going to live through this weekend with her parents.
