short, three hundred and sixty-one word little ficlet. wrote it in less than half an hour. tell me what you think. :)

There's that one thing.

That one thing that he hates more than most; more than losing at Quidditch, or Cormac McLaggen, or Zacharias Smith, being poor, and the scars on his arms combined. More than Potions class – hell, almost as much as Draco Malfoy and Snape. He hates it more than screaming matches, lapses of silence, and that necklace he got for Christmas.

That one thing?

Awkward silences.

Yet, they follow him around like an annoying pet. It's kinda hard to avoid, because the only awkward silence he ever has is with her and they're always together.

They rear their ugly head when Harry goes up to bed and he's pretending to do homework and she's thinking. Eyes meet and glance in the other direction and the pressure nearly cracks his skull.

They pounce in between them when they're standing next to each other and the multi-colored girlfriend is on his other side. Heads are turned too far away to be normal.

(Sometimes he just wishes he can jump up and shout, 'Look, everyone! I'm poor and check out these ugly red welts!')

The 'silences' stare, smirking evilly, as hands brush during Herbology and encourage the blood to rise to each person's cheeks.

They are onlookers as she visits him, covered in the white hospital sheets, with his throat sore and his limbs weak from that damned man's alcohol.

And they laugh out loud after (another) yelling match, when they accidentally agree on something and they stand, five feet apart and breathless, wondering what the hell just happened there.

(How many screaming wars have been started on account of the silences?)

His hands clench, his brow starts sweating, and he starts to find something to do as she pretends to read. But then they catch each other sneaking glances and the cycle starts again.

Finally, she snaps her book shut and scoffs, "Oh, this is ridiculous," and marches over and kisses him.

And if there was one thing that he loved more than winning at Quidditch, more than Sugar Quills or Chocolate Frogs or the adrenaline rush after another bout of danger – if there was one thing he loved more, it was the silence that followed.


aanndd that has to be about the fourth 'first kiss' i've written. ocd, much? xD review.