Ashy, Harry, and Hermione

"Can you hold still?" I ask Lukah as my hand tries to draw Harry Potter's scar on the side of his forehead. I'm sitting sideways on his lap, inside one of the changing rooms of the costume shop.

"It's hard to hold still when I have you so close to me," his low-tone voice murmurs, shivers igniting on my spine.

"Well...try." I give him a severe look, suppressing the smile that wants to escape from my lips. My eyes roam around the area where the thunder-shape scar goes, as my fingers grasp tightly the tip of the black eye-liner, letting the paint slide over his skin in a zig-zag fashion. It's not the spitting image of the scar that Harry Potter got from his infamous enemy, but it's damn similar.

The bottom, ending line of the thunder is a bit longer than it should, so I lick the pad of my thumb softly, then I slide it over his skin to erase my wrongdoings.

From the corner of my eye, I catch the way his greyish eyes are absorbing my every move. It's like he is recording my movement into his mind, zooming in to different areas of my face that are not precisely my favorite.

"Can you stop looking at me like that?" I mumble, my voice coming out raspy for some unknown reason.

"If you are my girlfriend, then I'm gonna be doing a lot of staring, and not just to your face." His hand sneaks under my shirt, rubbing my back gently.

My whole face turns red, and hot too hot considering all the cold I've been feeling lately, and there's no use in hiding it.

"At your own pace, of course," he quickly adds, clearing his throat, when he sees my reaction.

I half hump, half whine. Whichever noise comes out of my lips, I can't label it. It just adds to my embarrassment. I'm just really nervous right now. I have done things with boys, but not that.

"I didn't mean to make you nervous, I would never ask you to-"

I chuckle and look down, then back to him. "I know." I nod my head with my eyes fixed on his. "I just get nervous easily when I'm around you." I place a short-lived kiss on his cheek, and his face lights up. His fingers grasp my chin, guiding my lips to meet his. Our mouths connect instantly and harmonically, moving in all the right ways.

I start laughing frantically when his fingers start tickling me, right below my rib cage. "Please stop!" I stand up, taking a step back from him until my back hits the wall behind me. "Okay boyfriend, I'm done with the scar, you can go out so that I can start trying all these costumes." My thumb points behind me to the bags with the costumes hanging on the wall.

He stands up slowly until he is towering over me, cornering me against the mirror behind me. "As you wish, baby," he slurs, placing his lips delicately on mine. Then he slides the curtain open to leave.

"Hey!" I stop him. "Don't forget your goggles." I pick the black, Harry-Potter glasses, and give them to him.

He snatches them away from my hand. "I have no idea why I agreed to let you choose my costume."

I slide the curtain close. "Because you owe me. Big time. And we can still go for the Peter Pan costume if you are not comfortable in Harry Potter."

"I'm fine with Harry, and pink tuxedos, but not with leggings, okay?" He speaks in a serious tone, his voice sounds further away from me.

I laugh, tipping my head back. "Okay Lukah, okay, we'll settle for Harry then," I say as I grab the zipper from one of the bags where the costumes are in. The tag reads "Ashy Hood Inc." An arrow is drawn behind and across the words. Interesting. It must be the name of the brand or something. When I slide the zip down to open it, I gasp in amazement.

The red velvet texture is the first thing that catches my eye. It's a cape with a hood. I seriously don't get why people make sexy costumes out of characters from stories for little kids. And then we all criticize the poor wolf. As if we weren't wolves ourselves.

Oh, wait.

There's a bow and a bunch of arrows in the bag.

It's not Little Red Riding Hood. It's like a female version of the costume of Robin Hood.

"Cool," I say to myself.

I hope this fits me because I seriously love it.

First, I put on the black, fishnet stockings, which is not an easy task at all because my toes get stuck in every one of the holes. By the time I finish, I feel out of breath and I still need to put all the rest of the items. An emerald green, short, tube dress follows. The cleavage would be prominent if my chest was better equipped...which is not, but since I have a kind of regular size, neither too big nor too small, I look not as slutty as I should, I guess. And the cape helps. It has a piece of lace at the top of it. I pull from the extremes of it, forcing the fabric to crinkle around my neck, and I tie it, forming a perfect ribbon.

Camille's stilettoes kind of suit the entire outfit. I grab the bow and look at myself in the mirror.

Wait.

The hood was missing. I slide it up, the velvet texture makes the fabric weigh down, framing my golden wavy hair beautifully. I look like a character. An epic, badass girl character.

I grab the bow and the arrow, and then I open the curtain.

My eyes meet Lukah's shocked eyes.

"What's wrong? You don't like it? I do. But maybe it's too much?" My hands play with the lace of the cape as I speak. "I really, really want to wear this." My heels click on my way towards him. He is sitting on a sofa that is across from the changing room.

When I am standing before him, he remains seated looking up at me, his mouth hanging slightly open. He pulls my hand guiding me to sit on his lap. His eyes lock with mine, it looks like he wants to say something but he just can't.

"You don't like it? Is it too much?" I try to pull the words out of his mouth.

His hand travels to the ribbon of the cape around my neck. "I love it." His voice is barely audible.

I attempt to stand from his lap. "Ok then-"

"But No. You are not wearing this." He pulls me back to him.

"But you said that you lov-"

"I love it for me, not for the rest of..." He clears his throat, shuffling in his place. "...of...of the world."

"But I like it, it's not that slutty." I look down at my outfit.

He straightens himself, his hands circling my waist. "There is no way you are wearing this for anyone but for me."

I smile at him. "Should I rebel against you and see what happens if I do wear this in front of everyone?" I slur in a challenging tone.

"Please, don't," he begs me. The serious look in his eyes makes me know he means it, so just like that, I drop the topic.

"Okay, I'll try the other one." My lips meet his shortly, and I stand up. On my way to the dressing room, I twirl for him and do a little courtesy, just to make fun of his misery.

He groans loudly, while his hands drag over his face. "You're killing me Sunset." He finally looks at me, and I enter the changing room again.

I try the next costume, wearing the weirdest smile on my face. By the time I assess my looks in the mirror my smile fades away.

A huge, black garbage bag. That's what I look like.

I open the curtain again, leaning against the frame, a pronounced pout printed on my lips. "I look like a potato sack."

"This." Lukah stands up and walks towards me. "This is much better than the other one."

I roll my eyes at him. "Tell me you're not the possessive kind of guy because I'm dumping you right now."

"I'm sorry this is not about possessing you... I just don't want guys looking at my girlfriend all night long. The hood costume is only for me to see, you'll dump me the minute you see all the choices you have aside from me."

I frown at his words, but the thought escapes my mind before I can grasp it.

"So you would rather let me go dressed in this horrible black gown, that covers me from neck to toes?"

He laughs, his head tipping backward.

"Basically...yes," he utters stoically.

I poke his shoulder when he continues to laugh at me.

"I look horrible!" I exclaim as I step back into the changing stall and look at myself in the mirror. Lukah appears reflected behind me. His arms go around my waist, his hands lapping on each other over my stomach.

"Hermione Granger is," he says, "smart, cute, she reads books, she is beautiful, she is loyal, she stands up for the weak, and she should have ended up as Harry's girlfriend." He places a kiss on my cheek, then his eyes hold mine on the mirror. "We can make the couple happen in real life like this, you know?" he adds.

A smile draws on my face.

I make a mental note to write this change for Harry Potter in the Wattpad publication. Harry and Hermione should have ended together.

"Would you be my Hermione?" he asks, and I swear my knees almost buckled down.

I turn around to face him, giving the mirror my back. My arms circle around his neck. "Would you be my Harry?"

"I would be whatever you ask me to be, Sunset," he claims, his eyes locked with intensity on mine.

"Just Harry will suffice today."