Just a heads up, I'm trying a different style of writing with this one. Very out of my comfort zone so I'm not sure how it will read.

xxxx

There'll be no string to bind your hands

Not if my love can't bind your heart

- Morning Angel, Juice Newton

They had started simply enough. A lingering gaze here, innocent flirting there. It had been small enough that no one had noticed. Even then they'd both chalked it up to being the last remaining singles in their group. They'd gone months before they began finding excuses to touch each other. Handing over a plate or bumping into each other leaving the pub. Nothing that would cause anyone a second look in a group so large.

It wasn't until after Ron and Hermione's wedding that they began to develop. They met for dinner at her apartment after everyone else had canceled on them. He brought the elven wine he knew she loved so much, she made all his favorite desserts. Neither of them really knew when they'd fallen into this, but they both agreed that she'd been the one to set things into motion. She always had been the fearless one.

A strand of her hair had fallen into her face as she spoke about a new species she'd discovered, one she planned to name after her late father, and he'd reached over to push it behind her ear. His hand lingered there a moment too long and she responded by leaning into him and kissing him until the morning.

Since then they'd meet off and on for more than just dinner, slowly becoming something far more complicated than friends. Neither was willing to put a name to it. She didn't care for labels. He feared it would ruin it.

On those nights he did stay over, they sat in silence in the morning until they finished breakfast. Then she'd leave to shower while he cleaned up the kitchen. When he was done she'd come in fully dressed, his now clean and pressed shirt over her arm. She'd watch as he slipped it on and he'd kiss her on the cheek, call her his angel of the morning, and apparate out. If Ron reached the shop before him, he never asked where he stayed the night before.

She never asked him to stay, never begged him to let Lee open the shop. . He'd wake up to find her quietly sipping tea and reading the paper upside down, wearing nothing more than the button up that he'd worn the night before. She'd look up to give him the quiet, content smile she saved only for those nights he stayed the night before turning back to the paper. A second place at the table had been set for him, along with a copy of the Daily Prophet and a cup of coffee.

They'd come to a silent understanding when they'd first begun two years ago. She'd ask him no questions, he'd tell her no lies.

At the beginning of it, the world they created inside her compact, cozy apartment was one separated entirely from their worries and concerns about the real world. All their conversation had steered far away from family and friends. Instead he would talk about the shop and the latest potions he was having trouble with. She'd talk to him about her latest travels and the book she was writing about all the creatures Scamander had missed.

That lasted only a few months before he broke down about the latest fight he'd had with Percy and the guilt he felt for wishing he'd died instead of Fred, his anger spilling out of him as he spoke. She'd watched him closely, saying nothing until she was sure he had said it all. With only a few sentences she said enough to calm his guilt and temper his anger.

After they'd gone to bed, he held her as she told him that she was scared of losing her father's business, of her anger about never meeting her mother, about her self-doubt. At the end of it they were both emotionally drained and slipping into sleep before she suggested he begin using tiger lily instead of murtlap in his latest failed experiment. He'd been so excited by the suggestion that he'd peppered her with kisses and called her a brilliant, wonderful darling.

Her laughter echoed after him as he flooed back to the shop and stayed with him until the next morning.

There were days when he was waiting for a potion to boil that he dreamed she would profess her undying love, to beg him not to leave her just once. And there were nights he stayed up worrying that she would. Those nights would slip into dreams where he was down on one knee, begging her to marry him.

Those were the nights he'd slip away from her while she was still sleeping, refusing to admit that this was anything more than a simple arrangement.

If it hurt, she never let on. She never commented when he snuck out of her apartment after they'd spent the night together. He'd asked her about it once when she'd come by to drop off an invitation at the shop, about whether she cared when he left during the middle of the night. She gave a soft laugh and smiled her secret smile. It was only a minute but to him it felt like an eternity. She never gave him an answer. Instead she walked around him to find Ron in the back room.

She'd never tell him the truth in the day; he'd never tell her a lie in the night.

It wasn't until Hermione made a comment at dinner that he was looking happier than he had since the war that he began to realize there was something more to them. His mother agreed and asked when he was planning on bringing the young woman over. He stole a glance at her, sitting at the far end of the table next to Ginny, turning back to his mother and cracking a joke about how she'd disapprove of any woman he brought home.

After that night he'd stayed away from her flat for almost a month before he finally got up the courage to see her again. He still hadn't figured out what it was he wanted between them, but he knew he couldn't stay away for much longer. Verity had banned him from the potions room after he'd ruined too many simple potions and had shoved him out the door with orders to buy flowers and wine to beg for forgiveness.

So here he stood, daisies in one hand, elven wine in the other. He stood at her door for ten minutes, trying to gather up his courage before she opened the door for him, looking far more beautiful than he'd remembered. She smiled at him and beckoned him inside.

It wasn't until just before midnight that she admitted that she was missing a second date with someone Ginny had set her up with. He'd only kissed her nose in response.

He began to show up at her flat almost every night after, staying as late as he could the next day.

When he'd shown up at his sister's next week, Ginny only said that he needed to make sure not to lose this one or she'd be the first to hex him. It wasn't until he saw her dancing with one of Harry's coworkers that night that he was no longer satisfied with their arrangement. They'd never been out in public together nor had she ever laughed so openly with him. He was so unhappy that night that Harry had offered to introduce him to a witch he worked with.

He managed to catch her as she passed through the kitchen, holding onto her as softly as he had the last time they'd met. Instead of stepping away from him like he expected, she stepped closer to him, far closer than was appropriate between friends.

"Do you think we could go for coffee tomorrow?" he asked. "Outside of regular hours, I mean."

She smiled and he flushed. "That would be lovely," she said as she took his arm in hers and lead him back to the living room.

He didn't try to hide the smile from his face as they walked back towards the party.

xxx