Harry&Hermione - 'Ligament' please
It’s not a thing. She’s sure of it. It’s just when she sees the full reach of him—the extension from the tops of his fingers to the leg he’s thrown out for balance—she goes to the library and finds three books on anatomy and one on geometry. It can’t be just because it’s him, surely. There’s got to be some inherent magic in the shape or line of that extension, in the way she heard something pop in the silence (ankle or hip, she isn’t sure), in the perfect balance of it. If it was just him she could admit it and move on, surely. She’s had a crush on him on and off for so long that it doesn’t even feel strange anymore.
But that’s not it.
Because her breath doesn’t catch over simple crushes any more and she’s had the image of him, fingers fully extended, leg stretched behind his body, and his head bowed almost in reverence in her head for days.
She finds nothing in the books except scientific terms and so discards them all. Maybe she’ll find it in her arithmetic book—something about certain kinds of magic found in the angles of the body, something about how the body can hold itself so taught, something about balance.
