57

The moment they stepped into the Wizarding World of Harry Potter, it felt like they had walked straight into a storybook. The towering silhouette of Hogwarts stood in the distance, its turrets glowing in the crisp morning light. The cobbled streets of Hogsmeade were bustling with visitors sipping Butterbeer, carrying wands, and chattering excitedly about their Hogwarts houses. The air smelled of chocolate frogs and warm treacle tarts, blending perfectly with the lively energy around them.

Aisha twirled around. "Guys, we are home!"

Karan raised an eyebrow. "You do realize Hogwarts is fictional, right?"

Aisha shot him a look. "Don't ruin this for me."

As they walked further in, Rohan grinned. "Okay, but real talk—Hogwarts house sorting. We must settle this."

Aryan smirked. "I already know mine and Tara's. But what about the rest of you?"

Aisha adjusted her tote bag. "Gryffindor, obviously."

Karan scoffed. "Debatable."

Tara, who had been quiet, suddenly said, "My house changed."

Aryan turned to her, his smirk fading slightly. His gaze softened. "That's not how it works. The Sorting Hat sorts you based on who you truly are—not what you choose to show the world."

Tara blinked, caught off guard. She held his gaze for a second before quickly looking away, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

Aisha, sensing the tension, clapped her hands. "Alright, enough existential crises. Let's get food!"

The Three Broomsticks was bustling, and the group squeezed into a cozy wooden booth with steaming plates of shepherd's pie, treacle tarts, and, of course, Butterbeer.

Aryan slid a Butterbeer towards Tara. "Try it."

She took a sip, eyebrows raising slightly. "It's sweeter than I expected."

Aryan leaned back, his smirk returning. "Sweet things suit you."

Tara gave him a flat look, but her lips twitched.

Rohan snickered. "Bro, was that a line?"

Karan shook his head. "Weak delivery. Too obvious."

Aryan shrugged, unfazed. "Didn't see her disagreeing."

Tara, who didn't hear anything and unaware that Rohan had heard them, ignored them and focused on her pie.

Later, as they wandered through Diagon Alley, Aisha and Karan dragged everyone to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. Rohan immediately grabbed a Pygmy Puff plushie. "I need this."

Aisha grinned. "Rohan, it's pink."

Rohan looked at her, dead serious. "And?"

Meanwhile, Aryan, Aisha and Tara stood near the shelves of joke products. Aisha picked up a self-writing quill. "This would've saved us in first year."

Aryan chuckled. "You're telling me. My hand still hurts from all those assignments."

As Tara was about to speak in, someone called her name. They turned to see a guy from their university—Rehan, from their year.

"Tara? Hey! Didn't expect to see you here," he said, smiling.

Tara smiled back. "Rehan! Yeah, it was a spontaneous trip."

Rehan chuckled. "That's cool. You look great, by the way. Haven't seen you in a while."

Aryan, who had been silent, suddenly slipped his fingers through Tara's, his grip light but firm.

Tara glanced at him, surprised, but Aryan was looking at Rehan, his expression perfectly relaxed. "Yeah, we've been busy with projects."

Rehan's eyes flickered to their joined hands, and he nodded slowly. "Right, right. Well, I'll see you around, Tara."

As soon as he walked away, Tara raised an eyebrow at Aryan. "Subtle."

Aryan just shrugged, playing with her fingers absentmindedly. "Didn't like how he looked at you."

Tara exhaled sharply, pulling her hand away. "He was just saying hi."

Aryan smirked. "Maybe. But still."

Tara rolled her eyes, pretending to be annoyed, but Aisha had seen the whole thing and was smirking from the side.

The rest of the day was filled with chaotic fun—Aisha almost tripped over her robe in front of the castle, Karan challenged a child to a wand duel (and lost), and Rohan dramatically recited Dumbledore quotes at random strangers.

Even Tara loosened up, laughing when Aryan put on oversized glasses and did an exaggerated impression of Dumbledore.

By the time they left, the sky was beginning to turn golden, and Aryan glanced at Tara as she carefully tucked a small Honeydukes bag into her tote.

She had smiled today. A real, carefree smile.

And Aryan? He wasn't letting that go anytime soon.

~•~

The sun hung high over London, casting golden reflections over the Thames as the London Eye carried Aryan and Tara higher into the sky. The city stretched below them—Big Ben standing tall, the Tower Bridge in the distance, and the winding river glittering under the warm glow of the afternoon.

Aisha, Rohan, Karan, and Aakash exchanged subtle glances, their plan already in motion.

"So, here's the thing," Aisha began casually, as they reached the boarding area. "They're being super nicely strict about weight distribution today."

Tara frowned. "What do you mean?"

Karan jumped in, feigning annoyance. "They're asking groups of six to split into threes. Some new rule for the pods, safety something-something. And they're insisting since they're like it's mid week so go for it."

Rohan groaned, shaking his head. "Yeah, total buzzkill, but whatever. We'll have to split up. Aisha, Karan, and I will take the next one."

Aakash nodded, acting like it was all an inconvenience. "Tara, Aryan, and I can take this one, then."

Aryan played along, completely nonchalant. "Fine by me."

Tara, unsuspecting, sighed. "Yeah, okay."

Then, just as the staff directed them toward their pod, Aakash suddenly slapped his forehead. "Oh, damn—Aisha, I forgot my AirPods in your bag. Can you pass them?"

Aisha smirked inwardly. "Oh, yeah, sure—one sec."

She rummaged unnecessarily long through her tote bag. The seconds ticked by as the doors to the pod closed behind Aryan and Tara—alone.

"Oh, no," Rohan said, mock dramatically yet convincingly. "I guess Aakash missed it."

Aakash shrugged, trying not to laugh. "Welp."

"Just come with us now! Fast!" Aisha added on, as if speeding Aakash so he doesn't miss it.

Aryan, standing inside the pod with Tara, looked out at his so-called friends through the glass and gave them a knowing look.

Tara looked to see Aakash in that pod, her eyebrows scrunching, "What's he doing there?"

"Oh," Aryan said, acting naive, "He wanted to get his AirPods from Aisha but ended up missing this pod. So they got him in there at least. Otherwise he'd have to sit alone."

Tara simply nodded, now realizing that she'd have to spend the time with Aryan alone in this pod.

Aisha smirked and sent him a thumbs-up. Mission accomplished.

Tara stood by the glass window, lost in the view, her fingers loosely gripping the railing. Her expression was calm, almost serene, her eyes reflecting the vast skyline before her. She had always loved places like this—places that made her feel small in the best way possible, places that reminded her of endless possibilities.

Aryan didn't call her immediately.

Instead, he just... watched.

Watched as the breeze played with a few loose strands of her hair. Watched as her eyes softened at the sight of the sun dipping over the city. Watched as, for the first time in a long time, she looked truly at peace.

And, without thinking, he lifted his phone.

Click.

A picture. Capturing her, lost in the moment, the soft glow of golden hour lighting up her face.

A second later, his phone vibrated in his hand.

Aisha: "We got it."

Aryan chuckled as he texted back: "Thanks bro. Yu guys enjoy the view now. I got this!"

Aryan glanced at the next pod where his friends were, and through the glass, he saw Aisha waving her phone slightly, smirking before looking away.

Aryan exhaled, smiling to himself.

Then, finally—

"Tara."

She turned.

And her entire world froze.

Because there, in the middle of the pod, Aryan was on one knee.

A bouquet of soft pink roses—her favorite—was in his hands.

Her fingers tightened around the railing.

"What... what are you doing? What is this?" she whispered, her voice barely there.

Aryan held her gaze, his own eyes unwavering. "A dream."

Tara's throat tightened.

Aryan smiled, but his eyes—his damn eyes—were so serious.

"I haven't forgotten even a single dream of yours, star."

Tara's breath hitched.

The memory crashed into her.

Three years ago. A stupid, dreamy conversation over chai in the middle of an all-nighter. She had laughed, swinging her legs on the rooftop ledge, saying, "Imagine someone giving you flowers at the top of the London Eye, just as you see Big Ben in full view. Such a cheesy movie moment—but so cute yet cheesy, right?"

And he had leaned back, smirking, "Not cheesy. Just you."

And now—

Now he was here.

With the flowers.

With the moment.

With her.

Her throat felt tight. "This... this doesn't change anything, Aryan."

"I know." His voice was quiet, unwavering. "I'm not asking it to. I just wanted you to know—" He exhaled, shaking his head slightly. "You think I let go of us easily? You think I don't regret every second that I let you believe I could?"

She bit the inside of her cheek.

"I remember everything, Tara." His voice was steady but soft, like he was talking straight to her heart. "You love the rain, but you hate the cold. You order iced coffee, even in winter. You re-watch Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara whenever you feel lost. You say you hate clichés, but you secretly love them."

Her grip on the railing tightene as he stood near her.

"I remember you told me about this," he continued, motioning slightly to the flowers, to the moment. "I remember everything."

And then, slowly, he pulled out his phone and turned the screen towards her.

The picture of her.

Standing by the window, golden light on her face, eyes soft as she gazed at the city.

Her breath caught.

"I took this just now," Aryan said quietly. "Because this is you, Tara. This is how I see you. Always."

She swallowed hard.

And then, another picture popped up.

A candid shot—this time from another angle.

Taken from the another angle.

Aisha had captured the exact moment Aryan went down on his knee, Tara turning toward him, her face frozen in shock. The timing was almost too perfect, the sunlight framing them both.

And then, the final thing—

Aryan swiped once more, and a timelapse played.

It showed Tara gazing out at the view, the slow shift of the light, and then Aryan, moving, lowering to his knee, the flowers appearing in the frame, her turning toward him at just the right second.

Tara's throat felt too tight to breathe.

She was going to break.

She knew it.

She felt it.

"Aryan," she whispered, her voice barely there. "Why are you doing this?"

His eyes softened. "Because I mean it when I said I'd never stop choosing you. Because I mean it when I say I still love you."

She let out a small, shaky breath.

Her eyes burned, but she blinked rapidly, forcing herself not to cry. She looked down at the bouquet in his hands. The flowers. Her flowers.

He wasn't saying anything grand. He wasn't asking for anything.

He was just... showing her.

That he still knew her.

That he still cared.

That she still mattered.

A tear pricked at the edge of her eye. She turned her head slightly, pretending to look out at the view again, swallowing down the lump in her throat.

Aryan didn't push.

He just... waited.

Tara took a slow breath.

Then, finally—

She reached out and took the flowers.

Aryan saw it.

And he smiled.

Not a smirk. Not a tease.

Just a simple, genuine smile.

And for the first time in a long time—

Tara didn't look away.

Meanwhile, in the next pod, the group watched everything unfold through the glass, their expressions ranging from excitement to nervousness.

Aisha clutched Karan's arm. "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god—"

Karan smirked. "Damn, he went all in."

Rohan let out a low whistle. "Respect. Man actually remembered her exact dream."

Aakash folded his arms. "If she doesn't melt after this, I swear—"

Aisha shushed them. "Shut up, they're talking!"

They watched as Tara stared at the flowers, clearly overwhelmed, and Aryan just stood there, patient.

Rohan exhaled. "It'd be nice, huh?"

Karan glanced at him. "What?"

"If she forgave him," Rohan murmured, his voice quieter than before. "If they just... found their way back."

Aisha, still watching intently, whispered, "I think she wants to."

Karan smirked. "Yeah?"

Aisha nodded. "She just doesn't know how yet."

They all fell silent, watching, hoping.

💜