𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍 ,.

seven - my home.,

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hiraeth (n.,); a homesickness for a home you can't return to, or that never was.

A miridical time arose in Y/N and Harry's day. The girl felt so much gratitude towards the raven-haired boy. The fact that he truly made an effort just to get her spirits up. The two were still at the Black Lake chatting happily to whatever they wish. Pastries of all kinds were scattered around them like they were baking; flowers of the meadow laid upon Harry and Y/N's side, and Harry's cream guitar sat upon his lap.

Both having smiles that lasted for an eternity. And as a tranquil silence fell upon the grounds; the singing calls of birds heard, the gentle rustle of leaves left by the gust of wind, and the aaegan ripples of water from the surface of the Black Lake.

"Thank you, Harry," said Y/N, turning towards the boy, a soft smile painted on her. "Thank you for everything. You know, something like this, truly makes me happy."

"My pleasure," said the other, nudging Y/N slightly, a teasing grin growing on his face. "Just wanted to spend time with you. I definitely missed you over the summer."

"So you do admit, you miss me!" teased Y/N, earning a chuckle from the boy. "You said that a couple of times now, Potter."

"Oh, shut up," grumbled Harry, "Its not like you've missed me too, Bernard" he added quietly.

Y/N laughed lightly at her best friend, "Don't worry I missed you too."

Harry smiled brightly at her, and said triumphantly, "See! I was right!"

"But only for a quarter. Sorry not sorry, Harry," said she, smiling cheekily at Harry to which mimicked a over-dramatic gasp, but was immediately replaced by a smirk. Y/N knowing this all to well, widened her eyes, then started to run away from the boy, to whom also chased her.