026

                                    

                                          
AN: Buckle up for an extra long chapter for extra drama. Btw I imagine Harry has an Italian accent and that he doesn't really have his regular tattoos like he does in real life but other darker ones. (No hate to his butterfly dat still cutee)


                          

                            

                                
                            
                              
                                  
                              
                              
                                
                                  
                                  
                                
                              
                             
                            
                            
                          
                          
                          




The gray little boy with green eyes attempted to take a bite out of the hard, uncooked pasta shell we had gathered from the kitchen, bringing his teeth down with a loud crack before he dropped it and held his jaw with wide, teary eyes.
                          
"You're not supposed to eat it when it's   not cooked you silly." My small eight year old voice corrected with a light laugh, the hard pasta shells splayed out across my stiff mattress between me and my friend as I cupped his face while he pouted, not knowing they'd be so difficult to chew.
                          
"Now don't cry." I spoke in a small,
comforting hush, running my thumb over his round, flushed, cheeks when he began to sniff, rubbing at his vibrant watering eyes before I pulled back with a knowing smile.
                          
"Look at me, at the count of three," I began to sing the simple, catchy tune, covering my eyes with my hands before bringing them down to raise three fingers, the motions going with the song I had made a while ago to calm the little boy as he blinked at me with small smile.
                          
"It's your very best friend, guess who, it's me," I continued, tipping my head from side to side slightly making the boy giggle, the entertained, dimpled, grin on his face a rare sight to see as I did a little dance.
                          
"Don't you cry I'll always be here,
Even when you're alone I'll always be near." Bringing our hands together I intwined our fingers between us, making the boy lean forward and rest his forehead against mine with closed eyes and a relaxed expression that mirrored mine.
                          
I framed his face with my hands again -a habit that I had gotten used to and that he secretly enjoyed, leaning into my touch as his emerald eyes fluttered open to lock gazes.
                          
"Wherever you go, I will find you." I promised, still singing in the same melody as he stared at me, not understanding the English words that left my lips but knowing that these were words of love and sanctuary before he opened his mouth.
                          
"Because I know you're my best friend too." He finished the song in his hoarse, little unused voice, his accent thick and a few words mispronounced but I smiled with pride nonetheless at the fact that he memorized it, nodding my head before he wrapped his arms around my body and hugged me.
                          
I inhaled slowly, trying to collect myself as I rubbed his back before he pulled back to look at me.
                          
"Love." He emphasized, trying to correctly pronounce the foreign word before he broke away, mumbling something under his own language in frustration with a shake of his head.