“Theo,” she whispered as his lips captured hers. “I’ll miss you,” Hermione breathed out as hungry hands grasped for the other.
Theo had exactly thirteen visible freckles. Small, dark spots so imperfect and kissable. She made her familiar path round his face, chastely pressing her lips to each and every one. The ritual began clockwise at the fleck on his chin. Clockwise to call in her love for this boy. Clockwise to bring in protection.
After she had greeted numbers ten and eleven, she set her attention to the one at the center point where his swallows of anticipation bobbed their excitement.
At number thirteen, she pushed her tongue out to taste it, causing him to groan and pull back.
Hermione yanked on his tie, holding him still, as her mouth devoured her very favorite spot on his neck. The warm place where he pulsed, between his Adam's apple and the corner of his jawbone. She wanted to live there and never be made to leave.
“You won't even miss me,” he countered. “But we’ll see each other on the other side,” the double meaning a prayer and a promise; a curse and a contract. He held her as close as he could, unwilling to see her face as the tears finally fell.
He pulled her wand from her robe pocket and squeezed tighter, summoning his intention. They could do this. They had to do this.
“Obliviate” he whispered with regret.
The girl he loved went limp in his arms.