Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Waking up	By : Pegasus Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female Views: 2782 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the Harry Potter characters. I gain nothing from publishing this, no money, no fame, no fortunes.

Chapter List
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Suddenly she felt very tired. They had unpacked the car and carried all the things they had brought over from Germany into the cottage. Her mum had packed too much. Probably thinking they were going to be here for quite a while. Sophie hadn’t had the heart to tell her otherwise. The doctors had indicated it was not going to be long. Or maybe her mother had wanted to give her strength and courage by behaving like this was going to be a long wonderful holiday. She didn’t know. And frankly, she didn’t care.
But now she was too tired to take the car back to Penzance to go shopping. She remembered there was a little tea shop down by the shore. She knew they served food. It would do for tonight, whatever they offered and tomorrow they could go to Penzance, have a look around and do the shopping on the way back.
She presented her parents with the plan and they didn’t object. They had not objected anything she had said recently. It felt strange. Before they had always been giving her their opinions, welcome or not, and had never held back with criticism. Now they just nodded their heads. It was very strange. It felt like another little piece of normality which had been taken from her. She almost wished her mother’s strong opinions back. Almost.
When they arrived, they went straight inside. Although there were a few tables with benches and chairs outside from which you could watch the sea and the cliffs while enjoying your meal. But the wind had picked up and Sophie was already feeling chilly. The inside was furnished in a very basic way. Almost like a chippy in town. But Sophie knew this place had a lot more to offer. They took one of the small tables by the windows and waited for the menus. Ten years ago, she had been here to take a break while walking the cliff path and she still remembered the amazement with which she had beheld the dish that had been served at the neighbouring table. She had asked the couple at that table if she could take a photograph of their meal and then had her camera shoot the most beautiful and mouth-watering seafood salad she had ever seen. And she had promised herself if she ever came here again, she would order this very salad and enjoy every last bite of it. Today she would do just that and the roll herself up back up the hill to that cottage, because if her memory didn’t fail her, the salad was also going to be huge.
She eagerly took the menu that was handed to her by the waitress and quickly skimmed through it and… yes, there it was: seafood salad. She was going to love this. Even if it was very improbable that she would be able to hold the food inside for very long. Her parents, after having heard her description, joined her in her choice and the waitress soon brought the drinks. Sophie was contentedly gazing out the window when a black head appeared in her view. It walked up the door and entered. A tall man with long black wavy hair entered. The hair continued into his face in the form of a long black and grey beard which easily reached his chest. Apart from a long, beak-like nose, there was not much else that could be distinguished in that face. Only the eyes, which had quickly scanned the room upon entering, sparkled with interest and seemed to be prove of a lively intellect. The man walked to the counter, picked up today's newspaper and walked to the very back of the room where he placed himself in the farthest corner possible. Sophie could only watch him walk past and didn’t pay any more attention to him, instead resuming a conversation with her parents on all the things she wanted to show them. There was so much here that really let you appreciate the beauty of god’s creation.
When the salads arrived, she tucked in enthusiastically. The disease and the treatment she had undergone in vain had left her stomach in a very bad state. But she wanted to at least try and stuff herself with this culinary masterpiece. The plate looked so delicious, the food was arranged beautifully and her eyes shone with excitement when she took in the variety of fresh delicacies in front of her. There were steamed mussels, fried clams, small, red crabs, and small grilled fish of which she didn’t know the English names. Everything was neatly presented on a bed of green leaves in a long, rectangular plate and garnished with wedges of lemons and different, decorative flowers. Sophie quickly took a picture to post it later and then picked up the fork to start her meal.
She didn’t manage all of it but she enjoyed it immensely. Her mother and her father, having finished their own plates were all too willing to help with her left overs. It was simply too delicious. But after all that food she felt very tired and just wanted to get to her bed, so they made their way to the counter to pay. When turning to the room while her father settled the bill, she noticed the man with the beard had also ordered a seafood salad. She smiled watching him eat while reading the paper and wondered whether he still appreciated the food here or whether he just took it for granted. Just then he looked up and stared right at her. For a moment Sophie just held his gaze, not quite sure how to interpret his directness.
“Nobody ever told you it was rude to stare at other people?” came a low snarling voice from where he was seated.
Well, that answered that question! More than a little embarrassed Sophie quickly turned away and since her father was done, darted out of the little café’s door first.
He looked after her with a slight smirk, which no one could have ever seen since his beard covered it up very neatly. He had watched her when they had risen to go over to the counter. She looked fragile. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but something was wrong with her. And then she had turned and openly stared into his eyes. At first he had been taken aback, feeling embarrassed that she had caught him staring at her. But he knew his emotions didn’t show on his face. He had had the best, or the worst master, depending on which way you chose to look at it, who had schooled him in controlling his features. He had stared back and for a moment allowed himself to enjoy this openness and the honest interest that was in her stare. And her eyes. They were big and brown. A warm, deep brown colour that spoke of welcome and a soft heart. Something he had long left behind for himself. And just when he felt he could loose himself in her eyes, he saved himself by lashing out at her. She was like everyone else confronted with his sourness, she retreated. Just as she should.
He returned to reading his paper and left a little later to make his way back to his cottage on the cliff. By the time he went to bed, he had almost forgotten her eyes.
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Waking up