Sunlight played through the boughs of the willow as her hands played with his hair, dainty fingers running through soft, messy raven locks, as he lay, eyes shut, with his head on her lap.
She hummed, a tune of contentment and simple joy as they lay there, luxuriating in each other’s presence, amidst the meadow of flowers.
Her silvery blonde hair flowed gently in the breeze, matching the swaying of the various blossoms surrounding them.
His eyes snapped open, and Fleur was greeted with the sight of those beautiful emeralds. She smiled at him, gently, and he smiled back.
His smile lit up her world.
Harry lifted his head from her lap, glancing towards the setting sun, as she bit back a noise of discontent.
He turned to face her, a sad smile on his face, and she knew what he said before the words even formed on his lips.
“Looks like the sun’s beginning to set. I must leave if I want to make it home in time.”
Fleur pouted, “Must you? Can we not stay here for a little longer?”
He laughed, her hand clutched in his as he helped her to her feet, her elegant dress seemingly untouched by the ground, even as he dusted off his trousers.
He bent at the waist, his lips grazing the back of her hand as he stared earnestly at her, those beautiful eyes shimmering just so, and Fleur felt heat rise to her face, staining her cheeks in a faint pink.
“May this lowly villager take leave of the fair lady?” he asked, voice laced with mischief, and her her heart fluttered at his words.
She laughed, “Go on then. But only if you swear to return the next day.”
He bowed deeply, smiling. “I am afraid I can only swear to try my lady. By your leave?”
She nodded, waving as he made his way from the window, whistling as he went.
A lonely smile settled on her face as the sun crept its way down the horizon