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flamboyantly-incompetent · 1 year ago

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OoTP, Chapter 4 - Choosing Sides

Draco Malfoy x Hufflepuff!Reader

Warnings: vague hints at abusive parents (I mean it's Lucius Malfoy)

Masterlist

Word Count: 4291

After Herbology, you tried to catch Draco on his way out. He seemed preoccupied, and his friends trailed behind him, guffawing over some trinket they tossed back and forth, but he ignored them and you. They turned away from the castle and you gave up; it wasn’t worth it being late to Potions.

Perhaps you could write him a letter and send it in the post, you thought, absentmindedly stirring the contents of your cauldron. That should be discreet enough. It still irked you that you couldn’t just talk to him like a person, but in all truth, you didn’t really want people knowing you were associating with each other either. He had something of a reputation.

Though by the end of Double Potions you had formulated a plan, as you left the classroom you caught a glimpse of that unmistakable silver hair and green robes turning a corner down the corridor. You pretended to have left your quill behind, and peeled off from your friends and the stream of students heading to lunch. The soft pattering of your shoes on the cold stone floor must’ve given you away, for when you turned that same corner, Draco was leaning against the wall, arms folded, waiting for you.

“Why are you following me?” He looked somewhat harried; his hair hung slightly awry, and the shirt under his sweater vest was uncharacteristically wrinkled.

You stopped, confused. “I wanted to talk without having to send you a notarized letter.” His eyes narrowed. “I had just forgotten that this weekend was Hogsmeade, and I wondered if we could push our meeting to Sunday.”

“Oh. Sure that’s fine.” He paused, weighing his words. “I actually, uh, I’ve changed my mind. I’ve decided I’d like to work for the Ministry, so I won’t need Herbology after all, so don’t worry about it.”

“What are you talking about? Is this because I want to reschedule?”

“Don’t be daft,” he snapped. “I can’t really picture myself doing something so undignified, working for goblins. The Ministry will be a much better fit for someone of my family’s standing.”

“I see,” you said quietly, taken aback by the venom in his words.

Draco continued quickly, “It’s just that I’ll have more important, more relevant things to focus on, and-and-and you probably do too.”

You nodded curtly, “We agreed we wouldn’t be friends. You don’t have to explain yourself to me.” You paused before turning on your heel, “Good luck.”

Saturday morning came early, Wilbur purring on your chest with his wet nose sniffing at your closed eyes.

“Cat, one day you’re going to startle me so much I throw you off this bed, and it’ll be no one’s fault but yours.” He sat up, tail curled regally around him, waiting. “I can’t give you treats if you’re on top of me. Yes, yes I know.” You threw back the bed curtains and glanced at the enchanted windows. It was still somehow before dawn; everyone else was still asleep. You tsked at Wilbur, setting two treats beside him on your bed, and dressed quietly. You eased your broom out from under your bed and slunk out of your dormitory, then through the round painting door.

Almost a full week into October, the pre-dawn air was bracing as it whipped around you and your broom. The Quidditch pitch was deserted, thankfully, as it was the only area that allowed unsupervised flying on the whole grounds. There was nothing you wanted more than to fly through the trees and over the lake, but if anyone caught you they’d confiscate the broom and dock enough points to earn side-eyes until Christmas. So instead, you circled the pitch as fast as you could go, ignoring the stiff chill in your fingers as they gripped the broom handle. Patches of muddy ground spun by faster and faster until the whole world seemed brown.

“Y/N?” Your concentration broken, you yelped and had to pull up hard to keep yourself from ramming into a tower. On the ground, Yvette stood at the ready, broom in one hand and quaffle tucked neatly under the other arm. She kicked off and met you in the air. “Something you wanna talk about?”

“Not really. You don’t get enough fly time during practice?”

She shrugged. “I got into the habit, you know? After, I’m awake, and I feel better. You wanna run some passes with me?”

“Shoot, what time is it?” You’d forgotten about Hogsmeade, and the Hog’s Head, and Harry Potter. The sun was peeking over the trees, casting shadows with the tops of each tower on the pitch.

“Seven thirty, why?”

“I wanted to go to Hogsmeade today, but I can play for an hour.”

Yvette grinned and tossed you the quaffle. For whatever reason, completing random passes and scoring against imaginary opponents did a much better job of settling your mind than speed-flying in circles, although it was clear from the onset Yvette’s talent far out paced your own.

“You’ve gotten good at this,” you remarked breathily, touching down.

She scoffed, “I was always good, I just got better. So, no tutoring today?”

“Huh?”

“Your Slytherin, you aren’t sneaking off to tutor them?”

You bit your lip, the secret, evidently, out. “Donna told you?”

“You didn’t think she would? She tells everyone everything. Besides, three mornings in a row you don’t come to breakfast? We were bound to know something was up. So, you aren’t meeting them today? Or are you meeting them in Hogsmeade?”

You snorted at the thought of being seen with Draco Malfoy anywhere but a classroom. “No, no I’m just meeting up with Ginny and Luna. Besides,” you stretched your arms up, thinking how to phrase it, “I’m not tutoring the Slytherin anymore, they didn’t need much help.” She shot you a sidelong glance but didn’t press the issue.

“What about you? No Hogsmeade today?”

“Can’t, I’m behind on Transfiguration and Defense Against the Dark Arts and I do not want Umbridge or McGonagall cross with me.”

“Fair enough. I’ll get you something from Honey Dukes?”

“Yes, please.”

Filch was in an uncharacteristically chipper mood as he snatched permission forms from nervous third years, grinning maniacally all the while. You couldn’t decide if it was better or worse than the alternative, and an uncomfortable thought crossed your mind. What did willingly keeping on such a dour sadist, one seemingly convinced torture was a reasonable punishment for misbehaving children, say about Dumbledore? An uncomfortable thought, no doubt.

Across the courtyard, Ginny was holding hands with her newest boyfriend, who laughed abruptly at something she said. A twinge of jealousy spun in your gut. Ginny was, in a word, cool. Funny, talented, witty, and quite genuine, it was difficult not to like her. There was certainly a reason she was popular.

You looked around for Luna. She, on the other hand, often gave the impression that she could be perfectly content to never speak to another person ever again. You’d asked her once, unsure, if your presence was wanted at all. She’d assured you that she quite enjoyed the company in her typical lilting, ethereal tone. Finally, you spotted her at the edge of the courtyard on a stone bench, sitting with impeccable posture and clearly thinking deeply about one thing or another. She rose smoothly when you approached, smiling faintly as that faraway look refocused on you.

“Hey Luna,” you began, “Do you mind if I join you for the morning?” The crowd began to filter out and down the road to Hogsmeade.

She nodded gently, “I’m headed to Gladrags - all of my socks are infested with wrackspurt eggs.” She lifted her pant leg to show a sockless foot sitting loosely in a shoe. “They are an endangered species, after all.”

“Sure, sure. My mum loves those, I can get her an early Christmas gift.” Luna’s penchant for rare and less-than-discovered creatures, while unusual, never phased you too much. After all, if you ever met an umgubular slashkilter you’d know how to keep it from tearing your throat out, thanks to her.

The morning sun was bright and warm and, thankfully, at your backs as you marched down the road with your classmates. Chimney smoke peeked over the hills in a haze, and before long the village was in sight. You happily followed Luna into Gladrags Wizardwear, where she found a number of socks you knew she’d never wear as pairs, and you picked out a pair that changed patterns with the weather for your mother. Afterwards, you still had an hour to kill so you opted for Honeydukes. Acid pops for Yvette, a cauldron cake for Herbert, and a box of liquorice wands for Donna, and Luna sat with you outside as you split a pumpkin pastie.

It was finally warm, and a little uncomfortably so, most of the students that passed you had their coats off and tied around their waists. A group of third years were gushing loudly about the shrieking shack, each walking with a varied spring in their step. Across the cobbled street, the door to the hairdresser’s, Clifford’s Scissors, opened and the bell chimed brightly. Out came Draco Malfoy.

Oh, come on. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice you, but Luna did.

She followed your sour gaze and said, “I hear his father is visiting Hogwarts tomorrow. It is curious why he should appear now of all times.”

You swallowed a mouthful of pumpkin pastie. “What do you mean?”

“He works very closely with the Ministry. No one ever invites him, he just announces his arrival.”

“Ah,” you said. That certainly made some things clearer.

Luna glanced up at the sun. “It’s almost noon. Let’s go.” You picked up the box of candy for your friends and followed her down the road. Very far down the road. Almost to the end of the road. You would’ve thought it was a mistake if there weren’t so many other students you recognized.

Inside the Hog’s Head was… gross. You wrinkled your nose reflexively. You sat next to Luna and glanced around. Harry Potter stood next to one of Ginny’s older brothers (was it Roland?) at the bar with Hermione Granger. His expression seemed more and more morose with ever new student that came through the door. You waved to a few Hufflepuffs as they came in, but the group was mostly Gryffindor. Which, you supposed, made some amount of sense. Two of Ginny’s other older brothers, whose names you knew because of how often Filch said them like a curse, went around handing everyone a butterbeer. You took a mug from one of them, you couldn’t tell which, in exchange for two Sickles. The group sat quietly, gingerly sipping butterbeer from cloudy mugs, waiting.

Finally, the trio sat down, and Hermione began speaking. She covered essentially what Ginny had said in the hallway a few days ago, but you watched Harry’s face. She finished with, “I want to be properly trained in Defense because… because Lord Voldemort’s back.”

A palpable shiver coursed through the room, one girl actually screamed a little, which you found rather dramatic. Zacharias immediately asked for proof. You leaned forward. Although you wouldn’t have put it the way he did, you were still torn over who to believe. Harry scowled, and his answer was unsatisfying, but he still didn’t seem to be lying. In fact, he seemed quite humble even as Zacharias continued to prod him. You understood, though he began to grate on your nerves as well. In the end, you put your name on the list like everyone else, excited and nervous to actually learn something useful. Before passing it on you glanced through the names discreetly. Ron. That’s his name.

The next day was a long slog in the library, oscillating between Transfiguration and Arithmancy homework, and wondering whether Draco Malfoy’s father had arrived at the school yet. And what his purpose was. Could it be solely to dissuade his only son from a career deemed beneath him? It occurred to you that the Malfoys were a step above simply rich - it wasn’t as if they were working for the Galleons. You looked out the great stained glass windows flanking the door periodically, earning you some quizzical looks from Yvette. Evening rolled around, with not a single sign of silver hair, and you found yourself in the common room, enjoying the enchanted breeze and the warm glow of the fire, surrounded by candy wrappers, as you watched Donna crush Yvette in Wizard’s Chess. The round painting door swung open to allow a racket of overlapping voices to spill in, followed by Ernie and Hannah, Zacharias hot on their heels. They made a bee line for the notice board and pinned something on it.

“What’s this about?” you asked, walking over.

Zacharias turned sharply, agitated, “The High Inquisitor of Hogwarts has disbanded all organizations, societies, teams, groups and clubs.” You shared a look with the three of them, all having been present in the Hog’s Head, and remembered your friends’ presence. He continued, “That means-”

“Quidditch,” you interrupted.

“Yes,” he said slowly, “Quidditch. Which we will have to beg her to let us play otherwise we’ll be expelled.” Your mouth ran dry.

Yvette piped up, “What?! She can’t be serious.”

“Can’t she?” Hannah said sourly.

“I’ll go to her office first thing in the morning,” Zacharias assured Yvette, “hopefully we haven’t done anything to upset her.”

That night, sleep did not come easy. Learning practical skills was one thing, but being expelled for it was entirely another. Although, if Voldemort really had returned as Harry and his friends believed, Ernie had been right when he said that this was more important than anything else you could do this year.

You jumped a little, startled, when Wilbur’s furry mass appeared next to your head. He settled himself at your feet, stepping heavily on your stomach as he went.

If Voldemort really had returned, expulsion was a minor issue. You thought of Donna and Yvette, both muggle born, and your dad. If Voldemort really had returned someone was going to have to fight. And it couldn’t just be Harry Potter.

As it turned out, Umbridge was only interested in keeping the Gryffindor team in suspense, as you heard from Yvette that the Hufflepuff Quidditch team had been reinstated rather breezily when Zacharias asked. The fate of Harry Potter’s ‘study group’ remained uncertain, however, and the week trudged on with no news.

Herbology passed without incident, though you kept stealing glances at Draco to see how he was doing. By the end of class, his face was red and his eyebrows drawn, but the fanged geranium sat in a pot littered with small, shiny buttons with its toothy maw hanging open, clearly pleased with the trade. Your own geranium was resting comfortably as you made up limericks on the spot, its own jaw growing looser with every word.

By the end of the week though, you noticed a number of students you recognized from the Hog’s Head, whispering amongst themselves at dinner. You hung back when your friends left for the common room, claiming to still be hungry. Almost immediately, Harry Potter and Ginny’s brother appeared next to the Hufflepuff table.

Ron began, speaking softly, “We’ve found a spot.”

“Oh, good, I was beginning to wonder,” you trailed off.

Harry glanced around, “Tonight, eight o��clock, seventh floor. Opposite the tapestry of Barn-”

“Barnabas the Barmy. Got it.”

They nodded conspiratorially and were on their way. Great. Now you’d just have to hope no one asked you where you had been all night, and that no one would ever ask you that again. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust your friends, but none of you had exactly made it clear to the others what was believed about the whole thing. And then you’d gone to the meeting, and then you’d put your name down, like joining a secret society. Should you have included them? It was risky, to them and to the rest, the more people that knew of the whole thing. You’d just have to come up with something decent later.

By the time the meeting was over, it was past curfew. You’d dueled for over an hour with Ernie Macmillan, who seemed more concerned with performing intimidating wand patterns than actually disarming you, so when the DA split up into small groups to go back to their common rooms you ended up with him. Both prefects for each house represented were in attendance, so they sent out a small group, then a prefect, then a small group, then the other prefect - so that if any were caught, it would look like they’d simply been sent back to their dormitories by the correct authority.

You walked along the dark corridors, enthusing quietly about the whole thing. Ernie had sustained a small bruise next to his left eye from one of the Creevey’s antics, but he matched your enthusiasm.

Ernie knocked on the great round wooden door, and it swung open quietly, the warm breezes of the common room greeting you.

Donna looked up from the roll of parchment she stared at hopelessly by the fireplace to watch Ernie bid you a pontifical goodnight. She waved you over. “Where have you been?” she asked once you’d sat down.

“Just some studying.”

She gave you a suspicious once-over. “You’d tell me if you were dating Ernie Macmillan, right?”

You chortled abruptly, the notion absurd and hilarious. “I would tell you, but I wouldn’t date Ernie Macmillan. I, uh, ran into him and we got to talking about Transfiguration and we lost track of time.”

“Uh huh,” she said, slowly. It was unclear whether she fully believed your explanation, but she dropped the subject regardless. “Well I’ve been sat here since supper working on the Pepperup Potion essay. So now that you’re back from studying you could help me study.”

“OK, but you have to proofread my essay for Umbridge.”

“Hand it over.”

There was an unspoken agreement between Draco and yourself to avoid each other indefinitely, broken only after a Herbology lesson on puffapods, during which Draco had forced a spore cloud from the poor thing so large that he and his two friends fainted immediately. Professor Sprout conscripted you to revive them; a ground mixture of ginger soaked in spirits and petals from the offending puffapod did the trick. The large boy on the left, you learned his name was Crabbe, startled awake red faced and ready for action. He looked around sheepishly and shoved your mortar bowl away from his face. The other one, Goyle, opened his eyes but continued to snore.

You had to shoo away some Slytherin girl who had begun shaking his shoulders, then you held the bowl under Draco’s nose, arm stretched to leave as much room between you as possible. He looked uncharacteristically peaceful, aside from the green-brown dust that discolored his pale forehead. His eyes fluttered open, and for a second you thought you could back away before he was truly lucid, but then his cold grey eyes focused on you and narrowed.

“What the hell are you doing?” he asked, getting to his feet in a hurry. Crabbe and Goyle immediately began dusting off his robes.

You opened your mouth to speak, but Crabbe beat you to it. “You fainted. The bloody plant-”

“Get off me.” He shooed away his lackeys, the rest of the class still staring, the Slytherin girl looking like she’d launch herself at him at her first opportunity. “I’m fine.” He did not ask about his friends.

Professor Sprout tried to continue the lesson, but between the constant thrum of quiet gossip and careless handling of the puffapods, it became clear that three people fainting had caused too much excitement. She sighed and said, “Class dismissed. I want a foot of parchment on the proper handling of puffapods due next lesson. Miss Y/L/N, Mr. Malfoy. If I could have your attention for a moment. Misters Crabbe and Goyle, you can go.” She put her hands on her hips and waited for you to approach her. “Now, am I to understand that you are no longer being tutored, Mr. Malfoy?” He shook his head, and she turned to you. “Would you care to tell me why that is?”

Draco interrupted, “I’ve decided I’d rather work with the Ministry. So I won’t need a Herbology OWL.”

A look of disappointment passed over her face. “Even so, I can’t imagine you’re happy with such unsatisfactory work.” Draco’s expression soured. “Professor Snape has told me what a skilled brewer you are, but let me tell you something. The best potions can only be brewed, not bought - and that requires the brewer to appraise high quality ingredients. Which, can you guess, requires a good understanding of what we do in this class.” Draco deflated a bit, and focused his gaze on his shoes. “Y/N, that was quick thinking with the ginger - ten points to Hufflepuff. Why did you have it on hand?”

“Oh, I, uh, I have Potions right after this.”

She gestured to you as if to say there, see what I’m saying? Her posture softened; her fists uncurled and came to rest at her sides. “I imagine you are still willing to tutor Mr. Malfoy?” His gaze snapped to you, his expression unreadable.

You only hesitated a moment, after all he wasn’t particularly pleasant, but you had improved significantly in Transfiguration all thanks to his brief instruction. You nodded your head definitively.

Professor Sprout smiled, her cheeks turning rosy again. “I can’t force you, Mr. Malfoy, but you should consider it. Now, off you pop!” She wrote you both notes in case you were late, which you knew you would be, and herded you out of the greenhouse into the cold October sun.

Draco resumed ignoring you, until you stepped into the castle and he said, still not looking at you, “Saturday?”

“Quidditch pitch?”

He nodded. “I’ll bring the hedgehog.”

“I’ll bring some books,” you finished, and you parted ways in front of the massive fireplace.

Professor Snape was not happy when you arrived at Potions. “Miss Y/L/N, late again?”

You held out the note. “I am sorry, Professor. I do have a note this time.” He took it unceremoniously, his hooded eyes inspecting Professor Sprout’s signature. He glanced at you appraisingly, then gestured for you to sit down so he could continue his lesson on Beautification Potion.

Once again, you trudged down the path to the Quidditch pitch far too early on a Saturday. Draco had already set up the Slytherin themed quilt and his portable fireplace, he was hastily drying some patches of melted frost around the edges of the space. His back was to you, and hadn’t seemed to notice your arrival, so you set the stack of books you carried down gently and slid the box presumably containing McGonagall’s hedgehog towards you. He remembered you, apparently, and didn’t protest when you scooped him up and sat him in your lap to wait for Draco to notice you.

“Sicco,” he muttered under his breath. He checked the watch on his wrist and turned around. You grinned, and he yelped when he saw you; his eyes narrowed. “How long have you been sitting there?”

You scratched the hedgehog’s back lightly. “Only a bit. We had to get reacquainted.”

His eyebrows knit together. “I saw you three days ago.”

“I was talking about the hedgehog.”

“Oh, well. That does make more sense.” He sat down across from you, apparently satisfied with his handiwork. “I, uh, just wanted you to know that I-”

“You don’t have to apologize, and we don’t have to talk about it.”

“I was going to tell you not to apologize.”

“Me? Apologize for what?”

“For humiliating me in front of an entire classroom, obviously!”

Your face turned hot. “You fainted! What was I supposed to do?”

He crossed his arms, his face equally inflamed. “Well you didn’t have to come rushing into save me like I was some helpless child.”

“It’s not my fault you ignore Professor Sprout’s instructions. Would you have preferred to be carried off to the hospital wing? Your friends fainted too, you know, you could try caring about someone other than yourself.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

You gaped at him. “Everything! You and your friends fainted. During class. And you’re so concerned with appearances you can’t even acknowledge that someone might do something nice for you just for the sake of it.” You stopped, surprised. “That’s what this is about, isn’t it? You think I’m going to want something from you. Right?” He shrugged. “Bloody hell.” You set the hedgehog down and stood up to pace.

Draco rolled his eyes. “Look, I’m… I’m sorry. Ok? I keep forgetting I can’t treat you like them.”

You stopped to glare at him, refused to be appeased by what very well may have been the first time he’d apologized for anything in his life. “Like who?”

“Crabbe and Goyle.”

“Why would you treat your friends like this anyway?”

“Well, they’re not really friends. Our families go way back, so they’re more like colleagues.”

“That’s ridiculous.” He shrugged. You sat back down and pulled the hedgehog back into your lap. “So, the Ministry, huh? What would you be doing for them?” He looked at you suspiciously. “Fine, don’t tell me. I just hope it was your idea, and not your dad’s. We’ve got a lot of work to do.” You dropped the stack of books you brought into his lap and pointed at the one on top.

#draco malfoy #draco x hufflepuff!reader #harry potter #slow burn #draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #dumbledore's army #order of the phoenix

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mastermindmiko · 2 years ago

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Yellow

Pairing: Harry Potter + fem!reader

Word count: 3508

Summary: You are Harry’s yellow, someone that makes him happy, full of hope, and never fails to make him smile, you’re someone who Harry can’t live without, even if he hasn’t told you that yet.

Trigger warnings: hunger, Harry’s dancing, Harry’s fourth year awkwardness with girls, crying, kissing, Harry gaslighting himself, Harry being protective, mentions of death.

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Requests are open

He had overheard at dinner about the description and, or feeling of the word yellow from a random muggle born seated at the Gryffindor table.

As he heard the clarification of the unfamiliar use of the word, his eyes unconsciously trailed to the face that was gleaming with laughter at the Hufflepuff table. He didn’t feel the smile that was itching its way onto his face; it was, however, there and apparent.

He ignored the questioning that he got from his bushy-haired and red haired friends asking for the cause of his sudden rush of joy and his turned up lip corners. They were both too absorbed in the new charms lesson and the turkey leg to notice. If they had listened to the overly loud conversation that their fellow Gryffindors were having and followed his line of sight they wouldn’t have needed to inquire of anything; and he wouldn’t have been brought out from his almost starting day-dream.

It seemed that they had done precisely that when they donned identical smirks and Ron gave him a teasing nudge. “You should tell her, you know.” Hermione said after a few seconds.

He gave her a raised eyebrow in question and she continued with her eyes rolled “About your feelings, Harry.” She had assumed that he was being intentionally oblivious, but that was just how he usually was when it came to girls and feelings. He flushed, turning his head and gaze from them and to his untouched plate. He was too busy admiring to eat and he realised -from the growl his stomach gave- that he was in fact hungry. So he put a large spoon of food in his mouth; to satisfy his hunger and to also avoid the questioning and lectures he was about to receive from his friends.

“Someone that makes you happy, full of hope and never fails to make you smile.” That’s what Harry heard from the conversation but what he concluded was that your ‘yellow’ is just simply “Someone you can’t live without.”

***

The first time Harry met her was when Professor McGonnagal was announcing the Yule Ball. Everyone already started dancing with someone including Ron who was trying not to step on Hermione’s foot. He was tapping his foot on the floor anxiously and looking around nervously. A hand was held out to him and he saw a pretty girl holding her hand out for him, she mentioned for him to dance with her and he obliged.

He was dancing rather awkwardly and kept stepping on her feet muttering multiple sorrys, she kept saying it was fine every time he apologised it seemed that she was taking this situation much more humorously than he was. He couldn’t quite get over the fact that the most beautiful person he’s ever seen was getting trampled by him and his poor attempt at dancing.

When he tried to twirl her he ended up twisting her feet together causing her to almost fall but he caught her by her wrist. His face turned an even brighter red as he said “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I don’t know how to do this, you should go find another person to dance with-” He cut himself off when he heard her burst out with laughter, and even though he was confused a light bubble formed in his stomach.

“I’m sorry.” She said after she finished laughing, holding her stomach. “It’s just- you’re taking this wayyy too seriously.” She let out a sigh at the end of her sentence. He had just noticed that the hand that wasn’t gripping her stomach was still in his hand.

He quickly let go of her wrist, and she probably noticed that so her face was decorated with a sweet, soft smile. She held her hand out and said “Y/n Y/L/N” He was reluctant to shake her hand for one reason, out of how sweaty he thinks his hands are from his nervousness.

He took her hand hesitantly and cautiously as he added “Harry Potter.” She shook his hand with one firm shake and then put both her hands on her hips saying, “well Harry, I think we should try this again.” He nodded looking at everyone around him trying to adjust his dancing position and posture.

They danced for a while and he only stepped on her feet a couple more times, he said with the same self diminishing tone “You really should find another person to dance with. I’m horrible at this.” He tried to step away but she kept her grip on his shoulder firm and she said “You’re not horrible, you’re doing much better than a lot of other people here, look.”

He looked at where she tilted her head and there were in fact several other people tripping on their feet, some were even on the floor. He let out a chuckle at the disastrous scene and how McGonnagal was shaking her head at her house.

A thought burst out in his head as he looked at the girl, eyebrows furrowed and said “How come I’ve never seen you in Gryffindor tower?” She looked at the Weasley twins and she laughed slightly. He was confused and as soon as he looked at them Fred sent him a wink, and moved his eyes between him and her. Harry’s cheeks gained a red tint for what seemed like the millionth time that day.

“Maybe because I’m not supposed to be at Gryffindor tower.” She said in a matter of factly and teasing tone. His eyebrows regained their furrow and she explained “I’m a Hufflepuff.” Before Harry could ask how she got here she tilted her head to Fred and George and he needed no further explanation.

When the dancing lesson was finished and lunch was about to start Harry decided to just walk quietly beside her while she walked to lunch. He hoped she didn’t mind his presence since he for some reason wasn’t ready to leave her’s. He didn’t know why he felt that way, but judging by how she wasn’t pushing him away, he assumed she didn’t mind. He tried to ascertain the cause of his unexpected dependency on this girl. It has taken him multiple years to be assured by the words his friends say, and for him to welcome and look forward to their presence. He has been struck by shock, from how his body was naturally gravitating towards her’s; and he put a stop to the abnormal feeling. He didn’t want to seem weird.

When they reached the Great Hall they stopped right in front of the door, and he felt a sense of dread. He looked at her when she clapped her hand and spun on her heels to face him, “Well Harry, I best be off. See you around.”

When she started to walk to the Hufflepuff table, he called out “Wait!” She turned around with a sweet smile on her face that made his heart want to jump; and said “Yes?”

Nervously, He searched for a reason to make her spend more time with him. He hadn’t thought his plan through at all and barely made it through after calling out ‘wait!’. He looked around in a way he thought was discreet, but she was internally laughing at his attempt to look casual -he didn’t know that thankfully- His eyes trailed to her outfit and he saw that she was wearing Gryffindor robes.

“Well, you’re wearing Gryffindor robes; Why stop at just dance practice? Why don’t you have lunch at the Gryffindor table too?” He said trying to look smart and casual. Her smile increased and changed into a teasing one, and she tilted her head slightly, “Do you want to spend time with me Harry?”

His face regained its flush and he avoided her gaze. She started walking inside the Great Hall and he kept thinking that he messed up whatever was happening, and then she stopped, “Aren’t you coming?” He looked up at her surprised and asked “Where?”

She rolled her eyes but the smile never left her lips “To the Gryffindor table, of course. Merlin Harry! No wonder you weren’t sorted in Ravenclaw.” His cheeks couldn’t get a break from how red they were, he walked beside her and then she nudged his shoulder slightly and said “I think it’s cute.” If Harry wasn’t too occupied with this new type of feeling he would’ve noticed the slight blush on her face.

***

The feeling was new to him at the time, he didn’t feel it with Cho and neither with Hermione. He knew he liked Cho but saw Hermione as a sister; so what else is there to feel? He realised that he was exceedingly stupid with his feelings last year and before. He looked at her face again and thought of the last DA meeting today before Christmas.

When the DA started she ran in and gave him a big hug and reciprocated it with much more force than she did. They hadn’t seen each other for a week except for a few moments because she’s been studying with Hermione, and he missed her much more than he liked to admit. They were interrupted by someone clearing their throat.

Fred and George smirked at them teasingly, bringing a blush to his cheeks and then Fred said “We can leave the room if you want.” She unwrapped her arms from around his neck and went to Neville, giving him a similar greeting and He felt a weird feeling bubble in his stomach; so he started the DA lesson.

When the lesson finished she came up to him and said “I’ll wait for you outside Harry.” He nodded with a small smile and then went to Cho who was waiting by the mirror. It all went in Harry’s head like this,

Crying,

Talking,

More talking,

Mistletoe,

Lips,

Kiss;

and door opening.

She stood there with the usual smile that always undertakes her face, non-existent and he couldn’t fathom the unfamiliar look. “Um sorry, I’ll leave you two alone.” She said in a type of way Harry’s never seen or heard from her before, and she left quickly.

He looked at Cho and he was put back into the moment that he was previously in. He didn’t like the kiss. “Cho. Listen, I’m sorry but-”

“I’m in love with her.” She said shortly and looked away with a speck of hurt in her eyes. “What?” he asked confused, cheeks slightly red. “You’re in love with her. I thought so and everyone knows so; but I thought I had a chance.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He said with a now obvious blush on his face. She started walking out the door and placed her hand on the door knob, saying in a small voice that He could barely hear “Reevaluate your feelings, Harry. I think you’ll find a new conclusion.”

He was on his way to the Gryffindor tower in confusion, trying to think over what Cho said. Sure she was pretty, smart and funny. She was great, she was his best friend; he wasn’t in love with her.

Then again he couldn’t control how his heart flutters when he sees her. It was all platonic, he told himself; but there was still a part of him that was screaming at him” YOU’RE IN LOVE YOU IDIOT, WHO ELSE MAKES YOU FEEL THE WAY SHE DOES. WHO ELSE MADE YOU FEEL LIKE THE WORLD WAS OKAY AND EVERYTHING’S GOING TO BE FINE WHEN CEDRIC WAS JUST KILLED. SHE MAKES YOU SMILE YOU GIT, HOW MANY OTHER PEOPLE HAVE YOU MET CAN JUST MAKE YOU SMILE WITH THEIR PRESENCE.”

His loud vexatious thoughts were interrupted by the sound of sniffling. He followed the sound of muffled cries, and he saw a familiar Hufflepuff robe wrapped around a body he’s been tied to before. Her knees were to her shoulders and her head in between her legs as she cried heavily.

At the sound of his footsteps, she lifted her head up from her knees looking at him and quickly wiping her tears away “Harry. What are you doing here?” She choked out.

“Are you okay?” He asked cautiously as he stepped near her slowly; it was the first time he’s seen her cry even though she’s seen him cry multiple times before, somehow this felt worse. She let out a dry but in some way soft laugh as she said “Merlin Harry! You really aren’t a Ravenclaw.” She still found his stupidity cute and she cursed herself for it; he doesn’t love her. For Merlin's sake he just kissed another girl.

He chuckled softly at the familiar words, and sat beside her on the window bench. He placed his hand in her’s and pulled her to his side, and hugged her tightly. She couldn’t help but cry even more, she was crying in the arms of the guy that made her cry because she loved him and he only saw her as a friend.

They stayed wrapped in each other's arms that night, and his heart broke multiple times every time she began crying. He tried to ask her multiple times what was making her this sad but she always said that it wasn’t important, then he’d say it’s important to me; but she wouldn’t answer and he’d try again. They stayed there until the sun lit up the sky and they were woken up by a Slytherin that was going to the library before class.

***

It was past midnight when Harry was greeted by her worried face asking “What’s wrong? What happened?” His heart plummeted and flew when he saw her. He saw her, he’s happy; she’s worried, he’s worried. Her eyes skimmed Dumbledore’s office filled with the Weasleys, Dumbledore, Professor McGonnagal and several talking portraits that were chattering about what occurred; and they found his own as they always did -or at least he hoped so-

She went up to him still wearing her PJs and hugged him tightly, and he wrapped his arms around her waist. He breathed slowly and tried to calm himself down; and surely after several seconds the worry, anger and hurting feeling in his head were slowly starting to wash away. “What are you doing here?” He asked, pulling away from her embrace and cupping her face. If he wasn’t in the state that he was currently in then his reaction to cupping her face would be more different.

“The portraits were told by Ron to wake me up and go to Dumbledore’s office. So I’m here; What happened?” She replied and asked, holding his hand that was resting on his face.

“All will be told when you reach Grimmauld Place 12.” Dumbledore said and started saying orders to everyone, he also got out a portkey and all the Weasleys used it to head to Grimmauld Place 12. “Come on Harry.” Dumbledore urged him to use the portkey that he previously hadn’t used with the rest because of his hold on her hand.

Harry tightened his grip on her hand, and then she looked between Harry and Dumbledore saying, “Is there any way for me to go there, Professor?” Dumbledore nodded and they both used the portkey together. Harry couldn’t care at the moment that he looked like a child, holding her hand and not letting it go; but how could he let go of her when she solaced him. He also thought of how brave she was going to a place she doesn’t know of just because he needed her there with him. His heart lifts.

It was a strange thing for him that only a few nights ago she was the one in his arms seeking comfort and now he’s holding onto her as his only source of sanity from Voldemort’s plague in his mind.

All throughout Christmas he kept falling for this girl more and more. He loved her. He loved her laugh, her nose, her smile, her personality and he loved her lips; and he wanted to kiss them badly. All throughout Christmas he was reminded of her, and he spent almost every moment with her. It was his favourite Christmas despite its beginning.

***

Fred and George had left school. He was standing with everyone around him in an abandoned classroom, He had to save Sirius. “Alright everyone, there's no time to lose, let's go.” She said, and his eyebrows furrowed.

“You’re not going.” He said to her with a firm voice, she stopped walking towards the door and let out a humourless laugh as she said “I’m going.” Everyone other than the two of them left the room trying to find the Thestrals not wanting to get involved with the situation.

“No you’re not.”

“Says who.” She said with her arms crossed.

“Says me, and you’re not going. You could get hurt.” He said, and crossed his arms mirroring her actions. She took a step towards him and stood on her tiptoes to increase her height trying to look more intimidating. “So could you.”

“Yeah but I don’t want to lose you.” He said, voice raising slightly. “Same here.” She said not backing down. He walked in front of her and said “You can’t come because I can’t put you in a situation where you could die.”

“First of all, You wouldn’t be putting me anywhere. It's my decision and you don't want me to get hurt but you’re completely fine with you dying.” She looked furious, every time she was angry there was still a light undertone of humour in her; but this time he couldn’t find it.

“You are not going! You can’t change my opinion.”

“Well it’s a good thing I don’t need your opinion.” She said stepping really close to him, and she continued; voice louder than his. “Everyone else is going, why are you letting them go?!”

“Because I’m not in love with everyone else. I’m in love with you.” He said angrily, not thinking this through. He’s always had horrible timing but now his timing was beyond the roof and quite impeccable, so he kissed her. Furiously, passionately and hungirly. The kiss didn’t get as heated as it could have when she pulled away from his forehead resting on his. “I need you to stay here for me, because I know I can’t think straight without knowing you’re okay. I need you to stay here and be safe, because when I come back I want to kiss you for the longest time.”

She let out a sigh and said “Fine but just because you told me you love me.” He couldn’t resist the urge to place another kiss on her lips and then go out of the class running to go to the Ministry of Magic.

***

When he came back, he was numb; completely numb. Sirius died, and he now had no family. He was led to the Black Lake by her, because he wanted to be alone but alone with her.

He laid on the grass with his body intertwined with her. His arms were loosely wrapped around her middle and his head on his chest, and her chin was on top of his head while still wounding her fingers through his unkempt but soft hair. He waited for the -usual- effects of her even breathing and steady heartbeat to kick in; for his body to match the habits of her’s.

No tears have been shed by him since his screams at the ministry. He didn’t want to talk about what happened and she knew that; he would tell her at some point and she knew that as well. At the moment the only thing he desired was to lay in her arms forever. “Is it true?” She asked while the flowers nodded around them from the light breeze. “What you said? Before you left.”

She was nervous, he noticed from the way her hands started to fidget with his hair instead of playing with it. He lifted his head up to look into her beautiful eyes and he let out a happy sigh with a large smile. “You have no idea how much I adore you.” Her cheeks turned red and she placed her lips on his. It was slow and soft, and full of love. He could feel his heart mending.

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