Cherie. A Harry Potter Romance.

Chapter Seven.

I'm sorry. It is SO short. :P The same disclaimer goes for the same as the last chapter. AND 'Even Though' belongs to Darren Criss. I sadly, also, don't own Darren Criss. If I did, he would get his wish of seeing the whole world in pink (because then, mean people won't seem so mean. :3 ) and there would be AVPT. And none of this Glee shit.

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"Harry?" Anita yawned, flipping over on her side to see him, gripping his shoulders that her hands barely fit around and shook him harshly. "Harry, get up."

His back arched slightly against the very uncomfortable ground, which he was protected by only with a pillow, soft as an old, stale marshmallow and a thin sheet that was no better than a pack of logs to keep him away from dirt. Once he was straight, he groaned in tiredness and the shock of being awakened. "Whhhattt?"

After Anita had been discharged from St. Mungo's, Harry found that she wasn't sleeping properly. They had also taken no time to wait around before finding a place to rest. The woods. Thanks, Hermione. Back to charge, she had wanted Harry to accustom to the same sleeping schedule as she. Although he knew that she was afraid to be awake by herself, unprotected, especially in the dark and he wanted to make sure that she felt safe, it grew a minor nuisance at times.

"Did you speak to Whatsherface?" she inquired, acting as though she were a gossiping, fangirling teenager in high school. Or worse... middle school.

He grumbled sleepily, peeking his eyes open to see her head, resting on top of folded arms, resting on top of him. "Kind of. I talked to her, but not about my liking her."

"Really? When did you see her? Because I don't remember you talking to anybody on the way here except for me and Hermione. But, Hermione isn't pretty and I don't think that you would talk to me about Whatsherface if I was Whatsherface," she reasoned.

"When you were at the hospital. I guess one of her relatives were there because she looked completely sexy and awesome," he lied, quit fully. Usually, it seemed, about Whatsherface, he only didn't tell the whole truth.

"Why won't you tell me her name?" Anita pressed, sighing.

"Well... it's just... I... I don't wanna tell you is all," he excused. He sat up, leaning on his arms that were positioned behind him, but that didn't stop Anita from staying skin-touching close to him.

"Okay. It's almost sunrise. Can I play your guitar now?" she begged. She was only allowed to mess around with his gorgeous, light, rightie guitar when it was after or during sunrise, and he was supervising her.

So possessive.

He hesitated and pulled the case, that was already within reaching distance, closer to them. He swatted her hand away with a smile when she tried to unlock the prongs, as she popped two strings and lost one of the fine tuners the last time that she got the guitar out of the case. He even felt that he had to place it in her hands for fear that she might drop it. Irrational? No. "Try it out, just try not to be too loud."

She strummed the strings lightly, failing so badly. Harry chuckled and put his hand to her's, gesturing as a way for him to tell her to shut the fuck up. She blushed lightly, knowing that she was making Harry's ears bleed. "Having trouble?" She gave a granting head nod and stared at Harry most of the time that he was shifting it so that it was lefty.

"How come you're so nervous about Whatsherface?"

"Just. Drop it, Anita," he snarled, fed up with her constant interrogating. She was quiet, and even when he positioned the guitar correctly, she didn't dare move. He made sure that his face was low enough for her down-casted eyes to see him before he tilted her chin up so that she would look at him. "I'm sorry, A... I-I didn't mean to say it like that." She moved her head lightly to show that he was forgiven, but she still stayed quiet and misty-eyed. He could see it even through a single, orange light beam through the crack of the cheap tent.

"Here. I... I-I, um, wrote a song for you. And I figure, as the anniversary of the night that you came down to the basement and met us all, I should give it to you now. Just to have a reason. And I made you sad, so... Here. Hand me the guitar?"

She smiled at him allowing her independence with his guitar as she offered him the string instrument, rightie style. "Alright, so, it might be a little bit confusing. Not the song, the situation. I guess that the reason that I've been really nervous about Whatsherface with you is because, you know, I was talking to you. Seriously, ask Ron about anything I told him about her and you'll get that I only got nervous when it was you. I wanted to call it 'Even Though'." She gazed at him curiously, completely lost in his ramble that she had to repeat it six times over in her head within a matter of three seconds before he figured out the chords.

Even though I was blind before, I've realised that there is so much more.

And it was always deep down in the core of me.

I know it, now.

Even though it seems too much to take, there's a feelin' I can't seem to shake.

I feel like I am readin' the signs, 'cause I know that I'm comin' around.

I thought I wanted someone perfect as could be.

When, what I needed was the one who was perfect for me!

Even though it used to seem so wrong, I've taken you for granted for too long.

I'm fallin' right into the denouement and, now I'm breaking ground.

Even though I felt it from the start, It's only now we're beating with one heart.

I'm sure that now is the time, 'cause I know that's I'm coming around.

The sun is startin' to shine, 'cause I know that I'm... I'm comin' around.

"Sssooo, whaddya think? Badass, right?" he inquired, slightly back to his usual cocky manner at the sight of Anita's awed manner.

"Only you would use the word 'denouement' in a song. Anyways, that was beautiful. You should give it to Whatsherface!" she suggested with an almost disappointed expression.

"I already did," he laughed, realising that she hadn't taken his speech to heart.

"Did she like it? Are you two together? Can you tell me her name now, Harry?" she squealed, excited for Harry to have finally regained his posture.

"Did she?"

"I don't know. Didn't you ask her whether she liked it or not?"

"Yes, but she wouldn't give me a straight answer."

"O... that sucks. Did she fall absolutely head-over-heels for you, yet?"

"Of freakin' course! I'm sure you did a lloonnnggg time ago. Get real, Ni."

"Why would I fall in love you?"

"O, I don't know. A.) I'm Harry Freakin' Potter. Eternal Glory. Duuhh. B.) I just wrote you a song. C.) I cover Disney songs. Bitches love Disney songs. And... D.) C'mon, now, I'm super in-loveable," he explained, pointing them out physically on his fingers.

"All of that crazy, ego-high stuff aside... What. Is. Her. Name!" she squealed, clapping her hands and hopping lightly in her criss-cross-applesauce position with ecstasy.

"It's you!" he laughed, finding her ignorance inconceivable.

"That's a stupid name."