𝐃𝐨𝐥𝐜𝐞 | ʜ. ᴊ. ᴘ. [ hiatus ]

• 𝐁𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐡 •

❾¾ ⌁☍ ♪ ‹ 𝓶𝓪 𝓭𝓸𝓵𝓬𝓮 › ♪ ☍⌁¾❾

Madam Pomfrey insisted on keeping Harry in the hospital wing for the rest of the weekend. He didn't argue or complain, but he wouldn't let her throw away the shattered remnants of his Nimbus Two Thousand.

He knew he was being stupid, knew that the Nimbus was beyond repair, but Harry couldn't help it; he felt as though he'd lost one of his best friends.

Michelle Gloiriè, everyday coquettishly gives him a box of fragrant chocolates but Mal quickly distances it from Harry because she knows there is a Love Potion in it.

Ron and Hermione left Harry's bedside only at night but not with her.

Yes, that incredibly beautiful light brown haired girl, almost every time Mal sneaked into the Hospital Wings to accompany Harry day til night. They chatted a lot about silly and random things that only they knew how it would end, Harry would tease Mal constantly with a smirk that was returned by shaking her head or rolling her eyes but still smiling.

Anyone who visits him is not like Mal, lost the Nimbus Two Thousand that brought him success since first year and has never lost a wound in his heart. Harry always felt at home close to Mal, he felt so much better when he was with her.

"Didn't I ever tell you about Dolce's name, did I?" asked Harry suddenly while they were talking about hair products for Snape to keep his hair from getting greasy again, Mal seemed thoughtful tapping her chin.

"Last year, at the library, you said-oh I forgot." said Mal pretending being dramatic, Harry chuckling in amusement. "Actually I remember but I don't want to answer, I'm not sure what it means."

Harry laughed, in a much better mood with Mal.

"Dolce means sweet or beautiful," he wiggled an eyebrow, Mal raised an eyebrow. "And no one should use that name, describe you, only you have that name, special Ma Dolce."

Mal smiled rather shyly.

"Are you Harry Potter, right?" Mal suspiciously still smiling, Harry looked at her dreamily. "I mean not possessed by someone or not that Atticus Gloiriè take a sip of Polyjuice Potion-"

"Merlin's beard, it's a shame my handsome self had to turn into that thing." Harry shuddered. "I don't want to be proud of me but I extremely charming." his hand jumped to his hair, smirking.

They both burst out laughing, holding hands and still reluctant to let go of comforting each other.

Mal knows the dementors are a bad influence on Harry and he will protect Mal from people who only like her looks but not her heart and saw her as her.

Harry remembered something about the incident he had been attacked by the Dementors for the second time. Not telling Hermione and Ron because he knew Ron was going to explode and Hermione was booing, not making things any better, quite the opposite.

He wanted to tell this to Mal, but he was embarrassed, felt that he was weak due to the influence of the dementors and that he was the only one like that. Moreover, the voice he heard when he was attacked was his mother, before being killed by Lord Voldemort.

He glanced at Mal, both scared and embarrassed, he didn't want to look weak in front of his crush, right? And Mal realized that before Harry spoke.

"You want to say something?" Mal asked quietly, Harry gripped her hand tighter not sure to answer. "It's okay, I'm not forcing you, if you are comfortable saying it you can tell me."

Harry thought for a moment, indeed he always told Mal because she was the one of his three who wouldn't argue like Ron and Hermione.

"It's actually a bit embarrassing though," said Harry looking down at the floor, Mal stroking his knuckles gently. "But - you know after match right? Ah well - this is too embarrassing."