Ch443- Treacle Tart
Hello you all!
I know this arc leaned heavily into the romance side of things... eight girls (plus Astoria, naturally), but I didn’t want to skip over anyone. Doing so would feel disrespectful to the relationships I been carefully building since the beginning. Like 400 chapters...
Each connection is important, and skipping or skimming one for the sake of keeping in short felt like cutting corners on something personal. I couldn’t justify giving less time or depth to any of them for the sake of it. After dates are over though, it is going to pick up in flow, and we will quickly start the main events. I promise, good chapters are just around the corner.
Thanks for sticking. As always appreciate every bit of support! Couldn't do without you!
She stood and stretched, then pointed towards the tree line where a blanket had been laid out with a proper basket beside it. “You’ve eaten, so let’s get to desserts.”
Harry didn’t argue. He reached up, took her offered hand, and pulled himself up. “I will assume this is the ‘reward’ segment of the date.”
Tracey grinned. “Well, unless you’ve developed a sudden allergy to treacle tart.”
“That would be tragic,” Harry said, following her down the path.
The basket was well-packed, of course it was, it was Tracey. She slipped a Warming Charm on the cloth underneath and had even arranged the food like it was a magazine spread. Biscuits, small cakes, two jars of cream, and a solid square of treacle tart that Harry eyed like it might vanish if he looked away.
“You actually brought clotted cream?” he asked, eyebrows raised.
“I have standards,” Tracey said, pulling out two plates. “We are not savages.”
They sat down, the blanket just wide enough for the two of them to stretch their legs a bit. Tracey popped the lid off a jar and scooped a dollop of cream onto his slice before he even reached for it.
“You planning to fatten me up?” he asked, already reaching for the fork.
“Just balancing your harem diet,” she said. “Daphne feeds you lamb, Susan gives you fruit and facts, Luna probably hands you flowers and hopes. Someone has to offer real food.”
Harry snorted and took a bite. “It is good.”
“I know,” she replied, already biting into a biscuit. “I stole the recipe off the elves.”
They ate in peace for a bit, the sounds of Hogsmeade far enough away to be muffled. Snow drifted past the edge of the warming charm, melting just before it reached the blanket. The lamp nearby cast a soft circle of light, enough to make it feel like their own little corner of the world.
Tracey shook her head, then reached into the basket again and pulled out two small glass bottles of fizzy drink. “Butterbeer’s overdone. Try this.”
He took the offered bottle. “You laced it with something?”
“Just flavour. I am not that ambitious.”
They clinked the bottles together, a soft glassy tap.
“You know, the others will claim you had more fun with me,” she said as he drank. “And I will let them believe it.”
“You mean it will come up in next month’s drama briefing?”
“Likely. I might even plant the idea that I got a second kiss.”
Harry raised an eyebrow. “You did.”
She giggled, sharp and cheeky. “Did I? I can’t seem to recall.”
Harry leaned forward with a mock-thoughtful look. “Then I would better remind you. For accuracy.”
Tracey swatted at him, laughing as she leaned back. “Hey, none of that now. Dessert first, scandal later.”
“Isn’t this already scandalous?” he asked, reaching for another slice of tart. “You lured me to a secluded bench under false pretences.”
“False?” she gasped. “Excuse you, I promised treacle tart. You got treacle tart.”
“You also promised calm,” he pointed out, licking cream from the fork. “Instead, I am navigating a harem schedule like it is NEWT prep.”
She nudged his shoulder. “Oh no, not the parade of brilliant women falling over themselves for you. However will you cope?”
“Completely,” he said, deadpan. “I might collapse. Tragic accident... ‘Boy-Who-Lived crushed under too much affection.’ Headlines write themselves.”
“Don’t tempt me to test that,” she warned, tossing a pillow off the basket and shifting to sit cross-legged. She stretched out, lying back on the blanket and folding her hands under her head. “If you ever need a PA, I wil consider it. But only if I get bribed with baked goods.”
“Duly noted,” he said, then added after a moment, “You know this spot is still one of the best ideas you’ve ever had?”
Tracey glanced up at the faint glow of their charms pushing back the frost around the tree line. “Yeah, I do.”
Harry finished the tart, wiped his fingers on a napkin, and lay back beside her.
“Think we will still be doing this in a year?” she asked, voice casual.
“Eating dessert in the snow?” he said. “Maybe. World permitting.”
Tracey rolled onto her side, propping her head up on one hand. “Not just this. All of it. Hogwarts, us, whatever this tangled knot of alliances is.”
Harry didn’t look at her right away. Instead, he watched a snowflake land on the rim of the lantern before melting away. “We will manage. Maybe not neatly. But it will hold.”
She gave a small snort. “Not exactly reassuring.”
“It is not meant to be,” he said. “It is just honest.”
Tracey seemed to accept that. She lay back again, shoulder brushing his. “Alright then. One more question.”
“Only one?”
“For now,” she said, brushing a crumb from her coat. “Who is the best snog?”
Harry turned his head slowly, narrowed his eyes, and didn’t even try to hide the flat stare. “Not answering that.”
“Oh, come on,” Tracey nudged him with her foot. “You’ve practically taken notes.”
He took another sip of his drink, then gave her a look that said she was pushing it. “You want a chart? Ranked by technique, or creativity?”
Tracey grinned. “I would settle for categories. Mood lighting, weather resistance, charm compatibility-”
Harry leaned in and cut her off with a kiss. Not rushed, not dramatic. Just a solid, well-timed kiss that shut her up properly. When he pulled back, she blinked, caught somewhere between smug and surprised.
“There,” he said, standing and brushing snow from his coat. “Log that under ‘effective interruption.’”
Tracey let out a low laugh, rolling onto her side to watch him grab his scarf. “Noted. That will show up in the next review.”
“I will brace myself.”
He offered her a hand. She took it, letting him pull her up.
“Luna’s turn, isn’t it?” she asked, as they reached the path.
“Mm,” Harry nodded, glancing at the sky. “She said something about 'follow the paper swans' earlier. I am assuming that wasn’t a metaphor.”
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