Chapter 26

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Violet.

It was about halfway through the fourth movie, when Harry Potter was about to enter the maze for his third and last task of the Triwizard Tournament, when I noticed Harry had drifted off into a nap next to me.

I was about to smack his arm, tell him to pay attention when I glanced next to me and saw him with his eyes closed, pink lips slightly parted.

He looked young, boyish even like this, something I would never dare say to him out loud, knowing how on edge he was about his younger age. I paused the movie and stared at him for a minute, letting my eyes dart over his stunning facial features. My heart fluttered when I watched him.

I knew I liked him. I knew I was in deep and that I was smitten. The way he had reacted to my hysterectomy-story was something I could only admire. Not every boy I had dated was okay with that, as was their right. It was always a scary moment to tell someone I could never have children, and for some it was definitely a dealbreaker. It had left me heartbroken on multiple occasions.

Harry looked so unbothered and innocent when he slept, chest rising and falling in a steady pace. I gently closed the laptop and slipped out of bed, my stomach growling by now. We had been in bed basically all day, watching the third Harry Potter movie before moving on to the fourth, me finally giving in to seeing Harry's favourite.

How much of a favourite was it really when even he dozed off halfway through.

I would always stick to Prisoner of Azkaban-supremacy.

I felt the goosebumps on my arms and quickly slipped Harry's old sweatshirt over my head. It was slightly big on me, but I rolled up the sleeves once and got my hands free instantly. I knew he didn't like me wearing his clothes, but I didn't bring anything other than the T-shirt dress that I had been wearing last night, and a pair of shorts and a top since they forecasted hot weather today. Inside the apartment it was rather chilly though while the sun shone brightly outside.

My bare feet padded through the hallway of Harry's apartment, coming across the many doors. My eyes fell upon the one closed door that I had stood staring at the last time I was here. One glance showed me it wasn't locked, unlike that last time.

Curiosity got the better of me and I peered into the bedroom once more to confirm Harry was asleep, before opening the mysterious door. Part of me felt like I was invading his privacy since he obviously didn't want me to see this room last time.

I had been wondering what was behind this. Maybe some sex-dungeon like Christian Grey had? Maybe a cluttered room like the Monica-closet from Friends? A torture chamber?

I clamped my hand in front of my mouth to stifle my gasp when I was met with what only could be described as an art studio. It was the last thing I expected to find here.

The smell of paint hit my nose, even though the window was cracked to let the room air out. It was a decent sized room that was filled with canvasses. Some untouched, others painted, others hung up on the wall. One was on the easel that was in the middle of the room. There was a cluttered desk in the space as well as a couch. The floor was covered in old sheets and plastic to prevent the hardwood floors from staining.

The ashtray filled with cigarette butts showed me that Harry didn't mind smoking inside, or at least not in this room. I walked further in, eyeing all the paintings. They were all painted with pure black paint, and I could tell he had more of an abstract style since he mainly seemed to paint silhouettes of figures and shadows. It was mesmerizing to look at, and I had no idea Harry had all this raw talent for such a creative craft.

"Spying around while I'm asleep, are you?" Harry's voice startled me and I saw him standing in the doorway, scratching the back of his neck as he let out a yawn.

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