#lawyer!Harry

[sweet-creature101]

New York Streets & Dreams

Harry Styles, a classic New York law firm grump meets a wild spirited girl, Y/N when he argues with her on a road intersection.

Grump!harry; a grump x sunshine trope.

warnings: mention of alcohol, swearing. Suggestive language.

The songs playing in your headphones pumped your head with a string of melodies. You hum with a smile on your face, riding your bicycle in the warm sun taking in the city around you. Your paint splattered hands, still a bit wet grip the bicycle handle as you steer it around the city.

You steer around the busy and bustling roads, whisked away in a world of your own. You paid no heed to the rushing cars, staying near the footpath. Many had often told you not to cycle, especially during rush hour since the streets would be jam packed. “Walking, driving or going in a cab isn’t the same as cycling y’know?” You’d always say when the question was risen as to why you cycle.

You were about to turn right when a series of honks stops you right in your path. You yank down your headphones harshly and look around, an annoyed look beginning to form on your face.

“You!”

You whip your head to meet that voice. You see a man, dressed in a blue blazer over a white shirt with trousers step down from his Mercedes, his face morphed into a furious expression.

“What?” You ask harshly, your bicycle still parked right in front of his car.

“Look around woman! I would’ve run you over.” He shouts at you over the loud traffic.

“I was on my side of the lane. You’re the one who decided last minute to take the turn!” You yell back with equal anger as you meet his steel gaze, your own unflinching.

“You had your headphones on! If you would’ve looked around, we wouldn’t be here!” He said, even more annoyed than before now.

“What do you want? You know what, I offer you my sincerest fucking apology! Leave me alone!” You said, your coloured hands flailing in the air.

“An apology? Thats not good enough. You need to be aware of your surroundings.” He countered, his arms crossing over his chest.

“And you need to chill out. It’s just a traffic jam!” You exclaimed, your voice a pitch higher.

“You don’t understand! I almost ran you over!” You were certain that the man in front was giving out literal smoke now.

“Yeah, well I’m still here so calm down.” You said sarcastically. Your hands come down and rest at either side of your hip.

“You’re unbelievable. I can’t do this.” He said, huffing out a breath of disbelief.

“Fine. Suit yourself.” You said shrugging as you sat on your bicycle. And began to cycle.

“Watch where you’re going!” The man yelled for the last time.

Harry checked his watch again and again, contemplating if going out with his friends was a good decision considering how his utter shit his day had been. He had reached his office late because of a mishap that involved him arguing with a pretty girl in between a traffic jam which earned him an earful from his colleagues.

He looked around the neon street, the coloured lights metling into the dark night sky above him. He wondered, when he was the last time he went out with friends. When was the last time he went just as Harry, not as a top shot lawyer? When was the last time he didn’t think about work?

He couldn’t remember.

“Harry! I’m so happy you made it!” Lindsey, smiled and encased him in a hug.

Lindsay had been begging Harry to join her and her friends since the last two months. Harry as always, had politely refused saying that his workload was far too much. However, Lindsey wasn’t short of surprise when Harry called her late this afternoon and said he wanted to join her.

“I’m only here so that I don’t have to deal with you for the next two months.” Harry said rolling his eyes playfully. Lindsey smacked his arm and dragged him in the club.

It was large semi circle couch nestled in the back corner with a mammoth sized round wood table fitted in it like a puzzle piece.

Lindsey dragged Harry all the way to the back of the club where he spotted a few familiar faces. All of them waved to Harry and Harry said to hi them.

“Where’s Y/N?” Lindsey asked as she slid onto the seat.

“In the washroom.” A friend, Niall said before downing a shot in one go earning an impressed looking from Harry in return.

“You’ll love Y/N.” Lindsey said, winking at Harry who was still standing. He only gave her a slight smile.

Harry was about to go to the washroom before a voice boomed, seeming quite familiar.

“You! Oh my God you’re stalking me!” You yelled at him, your face showing how furious you are. Everyone at the table stopped eating and drinking because all their focus was fixated on you.

“What the fuck!” Harry said, his eyes widening at the accusation you hurled at him.

“You try to kill me first and now that I’m alive even after your murder attempt, you decide to do the deed here.” You said, referring to his attempt at ‘mudering’.

“Are you stupid?” Harry asked you in utter disbelief.

“No but I have a gun!” You said, not realising that you hadn’t even brought your purse with you tonight.

“Yeah, well where is it then?” Harry asked you, crossing his arms as he eyed you up and down like a predator assessing his prey.

“It’s none of your business!” You yell at him, realising that he caught you lying red handed. You size him up, your arms crossing over your chest.

“So I guess you two have met already. Harry this is Y/N, Y/N this is Harry.” Lindsey murmured from her side of the table, the overhanging lamp illuminating only a small part of her face.

“For the record, you and I know both know I didn’t try to kill you.” Harry said, his eyebrows raised as a wary look danced in his eyes.

“Fine.” You said.

“Great now that’s over, let’s get this party started!” Niall yelled, with excitement as the whole table broke out in a couple of hoots.

As the night proceeded, you downed drink after drink and danced like there would be no tomorrow. The lights flashing around you merged into your skin. The music blaring around you was pumping life into you.

In the corner of your eye, you see Harry who was leaning against the wall, a drink that he had been drinking for the past half hour still in his hand as he looked around with a bored look etched on his face. You walk toward him, your steps much more confident now because of a few drinks you had.

If your circumstance wasn’t so compelling you might have thought Harry to be quite an attractive man. You could make out the sculpted muscles of his biceps and abdomen through his shirt.

Harry watched you intently, drinking in your frame with every movement of yours. He didn’t fail to notice how wondrous your body looked in that little white dress you paired with a metal chain waist belt which had blue stones engraved on it, resting on the swell of your hips.

“You look as if you’re at a funeral.” You snickered, coming to stand close to him. Your forearms touch and you feel your focus narrow to the sparks of fire you felt coming from there.

Harry let his lips show a sliver of smile, a chuckle coming out of him.

“Ah well I’m not really in the mood to dance or party tonight.” Harry said shrugging slightly.

“What! You’re at a club, with such amazing people. Come on, if you’re not gonna dance on your own then dance with me.” You said smiling at him as your turn your face to look at him, admiring how the dancing lights accentuated his eyes and upraised cheekbones and his plush lips.

“You’re drunk, arent ya?” Harry asked you.

“It takes me more than three sleazy drinks to get drunk.” You said patting his arm.

“Well, I can’t really dance.” Harry said, evidently stalling like a five year old.

“It’s about having fun Harry.”

Those words somehow snapped a leash on Harry which he didn’t know existed. You extended your hand towards him that he gladly took.

Harry never knew he could have that much fun. He danced all night with you, drinking to his hearts content and screaming every song that played, even the ones he swore he’d never listen, ‘stupid pop music’ he called those same songs.

His hands were on your waist now and you broke out in a string of giggles, the alcohol in your system heightening every feeling. Harry looked at you and marvelled at your face, how pretty it looked and smiled at you softly drawing you closer to him.

“If you hadn’t tried mudering me this morning, I would’ve called you handsome y’know.” You said flicking his nose.

“I’m sorry. It wasn’t my intention to murder you.” Harry said smiling.

“God, you’re so handsome Harry.”

Harry woke up with a groan as he clutched his head. He looked around and found himself in a room he couldn’t recognise. There were sun catchers hanging from the large window which was installed, as large as a wall casting sparkles all over the room. There were plush colourful stuff toys strewn all over the orange couch opposite to the bed he found himself in. He looked over and saw you sleeping.

The sight of you alone nearly knocked out his breath.

You slowly you open your eyes and once the realisation hits, you scramble out of the bed, looking at yourself and then Harry. You were in an oversized tee shirt of yours while Harry was in a pair of boxers.

“Did we?” You ask him, standing barefoot at your wooden floor.

“No, we were too out of it.” Harry said looking at you.

“Oh thank God.” You sighed, your shoulders slumping. “Wait, it’s not like I don’t want to do it with you, seriously don’t take it that way-”

“Hmmm.” Harry hummed, clearly amused with your state of chaos.

“I dont want to do it with you if we’re like.. drunk and all. I’d rather be stone cold sober.” You said.

“I’ll keep that in mind Y/N.” Harry said chuckling.

“Oh my God I’ll just shut up.” You said, covering your face with your hand.

Harry looked at the time and got up, stretching. You avoided the urge to look at his sculpted arms, chest and stomach but you managed to sneak in a few glances.

“I’ve got a case to prepare for. I’ll text you in a few.” Harry said as he buttoned his white shirt.

“You don’t have my number.” You said.

“But Lindsey does.” Harry said shrugging.

He wore his trousers and grabbed his stuff. Before leaving he ran a hand over your hair playfully. He then snaked an arm around your waist and tugged you towards him. You bit down a gasp at the sudden movement and closeness that was now there.

“I’d kiss you if i wasn’t so late for work.” Harry said.

“Are you making excuses Harry?” You said, peering up at him as you rested your hands on his chest.

“I’m waiting for the right moment Love.” He said.

He dipped his head and kissed the corner of your lips. He slowly moved his lips over yours. You could feel them hovering over yours. You could imagine and feel how kissing him would be like, sparks running down your bones and veins.

“I’ll see you.” Harry said, kissing your cheek before leaving for work.

You felt yourself melt into a puddle of emotions and glitter as you sank to the floor with a youthful smile on your face.

Harry, in all his corporate glory was late to pick you up tonight. Meaning, he had no time to change his clothes which is why he stood at your door, in his black trousers and ruffled white shirt, a single rose he plucked from his office garden dangling from his hand.

Harry most positively hated everyone. He hated large crowds. He hated too much colour. He’d rather live life in black and white but you brought about a change. A change dripping with colours and laughter and undiluted joy.

He rang your doorbell which was splattered with coloured fingerprints, probably yours.

“Hi.” You said, emerging out of the apartment which was installed above your art studio where you took classes and painted by yourself.

“You look beautiful.” Harry said, as you dressed up in a short white satin skirt which you paired with a yellow top. Your cowboy boots clicked with every step.

“You look like… you came straight from work.” You said chuckling.

“That’s because I did.” Harry said as he handed you over the single rose, already whitering.

“Cute.” You said.

———————

Harry looked around the restraunt, sitting opposite to you. It hadn’t occurred to him how silent and how much of a grump he had been all evening. You observed him silently, waiting for a sliver of conversation to appear between you two.

“Get up.” You said, breaking Harry out of his daze.

“What?”

“Did I stutter? Here’s my half of the bill, give yours and let’s get the hell out of here.” You said callinh a waiter, giving her half as you waited for Harry. He handed her his half as well and stood up and followed her out.

———————

Harry had no clue you bring him here out of all the places he could think of. You handed over Harry his rollerskates, a devious smile on your face.

“No.” He said, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked around the skating rink, purple lights flashing all over his face.

“Come on, don’t be a sour sport.” You said lacing your shoes.

“We could have had a nice dinner-”

“Not with you ignoring me all night Harry.” You shot back before he could finish his sentence. “I don’t know what was bothering you but now we’re here. You’ll only have fun if you let go.” You added gently.

“Fine.” Harry said as he laced his shoes and stepped into a rink.

Harry holds your hand as you guide him, picking up pace gradually. You smile at him as you leave his hand and circle around him, twirling like a small child. You let out a laugh as Harry yanks to his side, almost making you two fall down on the ground.

“Harry!” You squeal as his hand reaches your waist and pulls you towards him.

“What?” He asks, feigning innocence, gliding with you effortlessly. You jab his side causing him to let go. You poke your tongue at him and skate away backwards, your eyes at him.

Harry tries to skate as fast as you but ends up almost tripping. “Come here Y/N!” He says, from one end his face full of joy.

You slowly glide towards him and interlace your hands with his. You pull him towards yourself this time and rest your arms on his neck, a smile on his lips at your movement.

“You look very beautiful tonight Love.” Harry said, an idle coming to rest at the curve of your back.

“You happened to mention it earlier.” You said blushing.

Harry looked at you and realised how much you meant to him. He realised that he in fact didn’t how to have fun or let loose before he met you. Hell, he’s even rollerblading with you. Harry felt free. Harry felt himself. Harry felt at home.

And perhaps that’s why he kissed you.

His hand reached out, cupping your cheek while the other reached the nape of your neck. His touch sent shivers down your spine. And there it was, without a word he kissed.

Harry kissed you and the world slowed down.

In that moment, all colours merged into one. Your focus narrowed down to the entirety of the kiss and how it felt to move your tongue against his, savouring him slowly and sinfully.

Harry pulled away and looked into yours. His being a pool of utter joy and happiness. He picked you up slightly, sounds of laughter of coming out of the two of you.

“It’s the Rollerblading, I tell ya.” Harry said smiling.

You were sitting in your art studio all by yourself when the bell rang. You found it peculiar since you had no classes scheduled today. You wiped your hands off a towel and opened the door to see Harry, dressed in normal clothes for the first time in months.

You and Harry had been meeting on and off for a quite a while now. Kissing him, cuddling him, simply staying with him brought you happiness and same was for harry. You saw him open up to new things like dancing in the rain, going to McDonalds at midnight, screaming songs and appreciate life.

“How can I help you today?” You ask him, your arms coming to rest at either shoulder as he pulled you in and kissed you hard and slow.

He pulled away and shifted on his feet.

“What’s wrong?” You asked him as you sat back on your seat and began finishing your painting.

Harry fished out a piece of paper and started reading, a smile of amusement on your face.

“Y/N, you’re the reason I feel no shame in singing at the top of my lungs or at skinny dipping late night. You make me live. And I know I’m not what you want and I know I’m an arrogant son of a bitch but the minute I saw you at the intersection, I knew was I fucked. So-” Harry stopped mid way, crumbled the letter and looked at you, his gaze unflinching as he asked, “Will you be my girlfriend?”

“Yes. A thousand times yes.” You said as you ran over to him, your painted hands grabbing his face as you kissed him with all your might.

Authors note: thank you so much for reading! Interact with me! Let me know if you liked it in the comments, send me asks, send me messages, talk to me! I love you I love you I love you.

[1d1195]

Zipper

Hi hi, sorry for the short break there. I've been working on this the last three days and it flowed out quite quickly to 9.5K words.

Warnings: Harry doesn't like her (or does he), there's a damsel in distress scene implying SA nothing happens nor described but could be triggering, "enemies" trope, Harry wears a lot of suits and is angry a lot.

Disclaimer: Everything I know about lawyers comes from TV shows.

Harry was a smart guy, but he truly hadn’t a clue as to why he was so mad at the prospect of liking her.

So, he pretended he didn’t. “You and Harry are together an awful lot,” his friend Niall said to her with a smirk once. They were in clear earshot of Harry, and nothing made Harry crankier than knowing his friends saw how mean he was toward her. It was the topic of many conversations over video games and while working out at the gym.

“Enough, Niall,” he muttered. “It’s not by choice.”

“Don’t know why he’s all grumpy about you all the time, princess,” Niall said quietly to her when his back was turned. “He talks about you more than any girl I’ve ever seen him with.”

“He just doesn’t like me much,” she explained.

“Oh, princess. I think it’s quite the opposite.”

Harry hated her. She could never figure out why. She and Gemma were on the same soccer team growing up, so she’s known Harry for forever. Because she and Harry were of the same caliber in school (and the same age), they were always in each other’s classes. Always in group projects together.

It made her wildly popular in school to know the one and only Harry Styles so closely—and she did. She knew he wouldn’t drink tea past four in the afternoon. He liked chocolate candy better than fruity candy. Any time he saw a dog while they were on their way to study together, he would dig a bag of little treats out of his backpack to give away. When his left eye got droopy it meant they had to take a break and she would always recommend some hot chocolate or lemonade (depending on the season) at the coffee shop near the town library.

However, their conversations never delved too deeply. She knew his birthday but not his favorite color—she suspected it was blue or maybe orange because most of his pens were blue and his highlighters were almost always orange. Of course, she knew Gemma and Anne, but she didn’t know what their relationship with Harry was like. Because of school, she knew most of his political opinions—and big shocker, they were roughly the same as hers—but she didn’t know his favorite music or if he liked to sleep with a fan on or not. When he was sick, she didn’t know if he liked sleep or soup. If it was his last day on earth, she doesn’t know how he would spend it. They weren’t things that she necessarily needed to know to define their friendship, but somehow, in her eyes, they were.

Other than school mandated projects, she was convinced Harry wouldn’t give her the time of day. “Can we jus’ get this over with?” Was Harry’s mantra around her during their school days.

She wished they could be friends.

She didn’t want to be that girl, but it was impossible not to be. Harry was beautiful and he was nice—just not very nice to her. She didn’t fault him for it, she wasn’t his cup of tea and that was fine. The way other girls sighed and ahh-ed over him made her jealous. She couldn’t do that. Harry was Gemma’s brother and her peer and that was it.

Needless to say, their lives were clearly going to be attached for the rest of their lives. They were like a coat zipper. They met when they were young and as they slid the zipper to the top more pieces of their life meshed. At first it was soccer with Gemma, then it was school in general, projects and friend groups, and now it was university.

Of course, they were going to get degrees in history and law.

Of course, they would have classes together.

Of course, Harry would be at every party she was invited to.

She knocked on the door to the party her friends were invited to, and she waited as the door opened. “God you’re everywhere,” he muttered taking a swig of the drink in his hand. He opened the door wider to allow her and her friends in and walked away without mingling a moment longer. She sighed and stepped through the threshold while her friends filed in behind her.

“You know Harry?” One of her friends gasped.

“Yeah,” she shrugged. “Grew up together,” she said heading for the kitchen to get a drink. There was a barrage of questioning. The interrogation of how well she knew him, if he was single—he was, as far as she knew—and so on. “He doesn’t like me much,” she shrugged.

“Shut up,” her friend said. “He likes everyone.”

“I’m not sure what to tell you. I’m not everyone.”

They were kind enough to let the conversation drop. But their eyes darted back forth between the two of them whenever they were remotely in the same realm as one another. Harry was never outrightly mean to her. He never made fun of her and never talked ill of her. They talked about school projects and assignments and classes and that was it.

Harry’s friends all really liked her. Of course, they liked her. There wasn’t anything to dislike about her. She was brilliant, incredibly kind, and naturally nurturing. It made Harry nauseous most of the time. He hated she could be so kind all the time—even when he was a dick to her. It made it all the harder for him to not like her.

*

It was halfway through the semester when her phone vibrated with a message from Harry. She could feel the confusion wrinkling her face as she brought the phone closer to her face as if it was a trick. Harry never texted her. If there was a school project that needed doing, he was highly professional and would only email her. The only reason she had his number was because Gemma gave it to her when her phone was broken, and she was her ride to their soccer tournaments.

Could you read my essay?

Surely this was a trick. She couldn’t help but ask. Really?

Yeah. The response was immediate. Obviously, nothing special. She could practically feel his annoyance through his text bubble.

Sure.

Thanks. Conclusion needs work, I know.

The conclusion may have needed work, but it was a pretty good essay otherwise. A few grammatical errors and a rewording of a paragraph or two and his essay was finished. She didn’t question why Harry asked her. Surely, he had plenty of friends that would be willing to read it over.

His seeking her out was quite the surprise to her, but to Harry it made the most sense. At some point in time, maybe in year ten, he realized that he was probably stuck with her for a good long while. There was no denying she was smart—in fact, Harry thought she was brilliant. Probably smarter than him on any given day. And again, that agonizing kindness made him sick. He knew she would read his essay because she was so nice. If Harry acted the way he did to anyone else but her, they wouldn’t give him the time of day.

But he also didn’t trust anyone else in the world to read his work and know what it needed like she did.

She took all the essay reading to mean it was okay to ask him for school favors as well.

Do you have notes from the history lecture yesterday? I wasn’t feeling well.

I’ll email them to you.

Thank you.

Harry took good notes. She wouldn’t have asked anyone but Harry because she knew they took notes the same way. Of course, they did. If anything, his notes were neater because he typed just as fast as their professor spoke while she preferred to handwrite so she would remember better.

Do you know what our professor meant by this?

She sent him back a picture of her own notes with a marking around the part that Harry was referring to. This was my interpretation, but I emailed him to double check, I’ll let you know what he says.

Thanks.

Harry looked at her notes on his phone again and admired her handwriting. He doesn’t know how she was able to write so much so quickly during their lectures. He saw her shake her hand out every time their professor paused to answer a question or catch a breath. She had pretty handwriting.

*

The parties they attended together (not on purpose, just by happenstance) were when Harry was at his meanest. He would roll his eyes at her if she was part of a drinking game. Harry’s eyes shot daggers whenever any guy tried speaking with her, always there to remind her of some project they had to do, and he didn’t want to be stuck doing it himself. None of it clicked to her that he was jealous.

Of course, he was. She was the prettiest and nicest girl he knew, and he was mad.

Harry was a smart guy, but he truly hadn’t a clue as to why he was so mad at the prospect of liking her.

So, he pretended he didn’t. “You and Harry are together an awful lot,” his friend Niall said to her with a smirk once. They were in clear earshot of Harry, and nothing made Harry crankier than knowing his friends saw how mean he was toward her. It was the topic of many conversations over video games and while working out at the gym.

“Enough, Niall,” he muttered. “It’s not by choice.”

That stung, made her face warm in embarrassment, but it was partly true. They were practically stuck together. Zipped together by some life force. “Don’t know why he’s all grumpy about you all the time, princess,” Niall said quietly to her when his back was turned. “He talks about you more than any girl I’ve ever seen him with.”

She shrugged it off. It would make sense, he talked about her so much. Other than her roommate she probably saw Harry more than her own family. “He just doesn’t like me much,” she explained.

“Oh, princess. I think it’s quite the opposite.”

*

Gem suggested I ask if we could carpool home. Save her a trip.

Yeah, of course.

Thanks.

“Do you like her?” Niall asked Harry. “Like, she’s really nice and pretty. Obviously, she’s very smart so—"

He cleared his throat to hide the gasp that nearly left his lips. “What?” He asked, slipping his phone back into his pocket. They were at the library whispering to each other while studying for finals. He could see her in the back corner, headphones in her ears and answering his message almost as soon as he sent it. He was certain she would ace all her exams, no problem at all.

“Your friend from home,” he tilted his head to the girl in the corner. “Do you like her?” He repeated.

Harry shook his head. “No.”

Niall quirked an eyebrow at him. “S’weird...you’re kind of perfect for each other.”

“Shut up,” he grumbled. He wanted no part of it. Sure, she was nice and sweet, and in the right light Harry couldn’t help but be overwhelmed by how pretty she was. But he didn’t want to be with someone he’d known his whole life. He wanted someone he didn’t know—someone that didn’t know his every thought. He wanted to discover a new relationship where he would find someone that didn’t know everything there was to know about him.

Regardless, if he knew all too well that she would be perfect for him.

*A few years later*

“This will be your office,” the sweet secretary informed her. She wasn’t a young secretary, but she wasn’t old either. Somewhere in the middle—she reminded her of her mom and that eased her worry of her new job fresh out of school. “I heard you know your office neighbor here. He gave you a glowing recommendation saying “the bosses would be fools to not hire you” I believe was how he phrased it. They’re all very excited to have you on board.”

She blinked, setting her box down of trinkets she collected ready to have her first big job. A list of clients sat on her desk. She was ready to get started—eager even. Excited and nervous all at once. The box of trinkets would make her office homier and she started setting out the calendar and picture frames as she shook her head at the woman helping her get the lay of the land. “That can’t be right, my professors did my recommendations...I can’t imagine my professors saying that about me,” she chuckled nervously. “I think they liked me and all but—”

“No, no!” She interrupted with a giggle. “Pardon me, one of your references, Harry; Harry Styles,” she smirked.

Blinking in surprise, she felt her lips part in a breathless gasp. She had asked Harry as a parting gift of sorts if he’d be willing to be a reference for her on her job applications. “I don’t think anyone really knows my work ethic the way you do,” she admitted. “I understand if you don’t want to, I’d be willing to be a reference for you as well either—”

“Sure,” he shrugged. “No problem. That’s probably a good idea. Thank you.”

“Harry works here?” She asked, completely dumbfounded. She shouldn’t have been. She should have known of all the gin joints. Her heart pounded and the air in the room felt thin. When she had sent her applications and resumes out to every firm in the area, she didn’t dream that she would still be side by side with Harry. There were easily fifty or so firms in the city. There was no way the length of their lives on this zipper extended to work post-graduation.

“I thought that was why you applied here. Harry made it seem like you both—”

“Hi,” speak of the devil. She wanted to know the end of that sentence. The idea that Harry made it seem like anything was between them—friendship, collegiate respect, anything—seemed paradoxical.

But here he was in all his brilliant and handsome glory.

Harry looked effortlessly beautiful and nearly seductive standing in her office doorway. He was wearing a suit, but it looked like it was nearly painted on him—hugging each of his defined arms and seemed to stretch perfectly over his long legs. Throughout their schooling and university, she wondered when he had time to hit the gym because he didn’t go while she walked on the treadmill and read her textbooks—the one time the zipper of life skipped over their meeting. But it was obvious he had found time. Again, she wasn’t immune to his good looks and persona. She had seen him be nice and lovely to everyone he knew time and time again.

Just not her.

His hair was styled just so, and she could practically see the sweet secretary swooning at the sight of him. “Welcome,” he said. He looked like a kid to her. As if his mom told him to say hi and wish her a happy birthday or something even though he didn’t want to. He smiled weakly at her. It felt forced.

“Hi,” she answered, still in shock.

He nodded at her and left without another word. “He’s dreamy,” she said with an all too familiar sigh. “I don’t know how anyone gets any work done around here.”

She shook her head. “I can’t believe he works here.”

“I completely assumed he told you about the position...His friend is one of the senior partners,” she shrugged. “Louis?” She said. “I think Louis’ younger sister knows of you both or something.” She tilted her head at the woman. “I know everything,” she shrugged.

“You sure do,” she smirked. “Uh...no, I didn’t know Harry worked here.”

“I think it was Harry’s plan along with Louis or whatever—since they were young. They hang out a lot here.”

“Hmm,” she hummed. “I didn’t know that.”

“I didn’t mean to say Harry’s the reason you got the job—your qualifications are outstanding and—”

“No, no, you’re fine,” she promised. “I know what you meant.”

Poor Harry.

For the most part though, the two rarely interacted. They would run into each other in the break room or near the copier in the storage room. On one occasion Harry asked her to read over his outline for a case to make sure he hit all the major components of what he needed to do. Every so often Harry would bring her tea and not say anything at all to her. She found it odd and thanked him even though he never spoke to her.

She was oddly comforted by the fact he was just one room over.

*

There was a gentle knock on her door before it opened. “Some of us are getting Chinese food and I noticed you’ve been holed up all day—are you okay?” Harry appeared speaking the longest sentence that wasn’t about schoolwork or a case in their entire life. And he even asked about her well-being.

She wasn’t okay. She had a headache, something fierce. It started at the bridge of her nose, gripped the back of her eyes, and was reaching for the back of her head. “Yeah,” she murmured not looking up from her papers on her desk. Her voice sounded weak and scratchy. How long had it been since she looked up? Her neck felt cramped as she raised her head slowly to look at Harry. She wished she had a glass of water.

“Kitten...y’don’t look so good,” he said quietly.

“M’okay...M’jus not feeling so well,” she shrugged. “But I have to get this done,” she told him. “I think I skipped lunch,” if she could fathom the idea of using any part of her brain for something other than this case, she would have noted how Harry so sweetly called her kitten.

He sighed, almost annoyed and she briefly wondered what she did wrong now. He disappeared for a moment. Within an instant he came back with water, pills, and a protein bar. “I’ll get some Chinese for you too.”

“Thank you,” she mumbled glancing briefly at how pretty he looked in his suit and how kind it was of him to bring her medicine. “I’ll Venmo—”

“Shh,” he said and turned off the overhead light of her office as he left. Leaving her in darkness except for the desk lamp to her left. “Try a nap on the couch,” he said. “I’ll wake you when the food is here.”

*

“Kitten,” he said softly. He gently shook her, and she tried to remember if Harry had ever touched her in their entire lives. The smell of greasy, salty food woke her up the rest of the way. Harry seemed to know her Chinese food order. She searched her memories if they ever ordered Chinese together and how he remembered.

“How’d you know what to get?” She asked stupidly. She could blame the headache or the lack of sleep if he said something mean about it.

He didn’t. “Your friends ordered at a party junior year,” he shrugged. “Remembered what you liked.”

“Oh.” He waited until she was upright and eating—staring at her like one of their science experiments from school. “Do you want some—”

“No, just making sure you actually eat.”

She felt her face warm, and she shook her head. “Uh. Thanks, that’s not necessary.”

“Well clearly it is if y’forget t’eat lunch and make yourself sick.” Again, her face heated up, but she said nothing because he was right. “What are you working on, anyway?” He asked. “That you’re skipping lunch and everything.”

“Uh...I just want to make a good impression and make sure I’m doing everything I can.”

“I’ve never known you to not give a hundred and twenty percent, love. If anyone has a question about your qualifications, you can send them to me.”

“How come you get to act like a partner?” She asked. “M’not jealous or anything—I’m just wondering why—”

“Louis always said I was brilliant or whatever,” he said casually with a shrug. He wasn’t bragging. He was just stating a fact. It was true too. Harry was brilliant. “I always told him it was because I worked with you, but he didn’t believe me. So, when he saw m’name as a reference on your application, I told him he would understand it was your brilliance that helped me be so successful and if he didn’t hire you, it would be a terrible mistake in his career because you would go be perfect and wonderful somewhere else. He’s seen your work, trust me, kitten. He knows how hard you’re working and you’re making an unbelievable impression. You don’t need to skip lunch t’prove your worth.”

This by far was the kindest thing Harry ever said of her—maybe anyone had ever said of her. She was speechless. Maybe it was the sleep still on her brain. Or the pain in her head that caused Harry to turn off the lights, so it was dark and quiet in her office. Or maybe it was because Harry finally said something sweet about her. But she finally worked up the courage to ask a question that had bothered her for their entire lives. “How come you don’t like me?” Her voice was so quiet it pained Harry.

He shook his head. “I like you,” he said with an eye roll. She wondered if it was no longer hard for him to lie like that. Countless people must have asked him over the years. Certainly, by now he perfected the tone and emotion needed to get people off the subject.

“Not really,” she said with sigh. When they were younger it definitely upset her more that Harry disliked her so much. When people asked she would feel a sting come behind her eyes because it would have made all the sense in the world for Harry to be her best friend. Now, it was just a matter of fact. NaCl was salt, flowers bloomed in spring, and Harry didn’t like her. “It’s fine...” but her voice cracked just a hair like it used to when she was asked about why Harry didn’t like her at all. “I just...I don’t know. We would have been really good friends if you did...that’s all,” she gave a small shrug eating another bite of her food.

“You want to be friends?” He questioned, surprised. Even though he was a dick to her she wanted to be friends. She seemed to be a glutton for punishment.

“Well,” she cleared her throat pushing her orange chicken through her fried rice as a distraction. “I guess we’re kind of old to be asking that,” she said quietly. “We just spent a lot of time together growing up. I think it would have made sense,” she explained. It felt like she was arguing another case, it was far more awkward though and while she would have liked to win, she didn’t know if it was worth it. “It’s fine...you don’t have to be my friend. Thank you for the food.”

“Kitten, I,” he sighed and ran his hand over his face pinching his lower lip between his fingers. She could tell from the tone in his voice he was exasperated by her. She should have just eaten faster and let him leave without the third degree. “We can be friends.”

She blinked at her food and then turned to look at him. “We can?”

He tilted his head at her and rolled his eyes. “Would it make you happy?” He asked.

She was lucky her brain wasn’t fully functioning due to the lack of food. That was a weird question for him to ask. Harry never once cared if she was happy or not the entire time that she knew him. “Yes.”

“Then we can be friends.”

*

Despite their newly found friendship, she tried not to overwhelm Harry. They made small talk when they ran into each other at the office. About once a week Harry would text her asking if she would like to carpool to work and she politely declined because again, she didn’t want to bother him.

“Hey, I’m going to meet a client at Starbucks, do you want any coffee when I get—oh,” she said softly. For the entire time she’d known Harry, she had never seen one hair out of place. Not one shirt collar unpressed. A shoelace never untied.

Right now, Harry’s hair was clearly the result of running his hand through it several times over, his eyes rimmed red, and his papers on his desk distributed haphazardly on the floor. “Go away,” he grumbled looking at the ground.

“Harry, are you alright?” She asked quickly closing the door behind her.

“Fine,” he spit. “Just leave.”

“Uh, no,” she swallowed the nervousness down. She thought about how nice he was when she wasn’t feeling well. She wanted to return the favor if she could. Whatever his outburst was about, she wanted to help. “You don’t look okay. What’s wrong? Can I help—”

“No,” he said firmly.

“Harry, seriously.”

“M’mum was in a car accident, Gem called,” he snapped. He had his head hung low as he pressed his hands to the back of his head. “I have a disposition in an hour and Mum’s in surgery. Okay. Are you happy?”

She blinked. No, she wasn’t happy. But she knew why he snapped. That answered her question about what his relationship with his mom was like. “Harry, I’m so sorry.”

“Whatever,” he sniffed.

“Harry...you...you should go to the hospital.”

God she was infuriating; this friendship thing was a stupid idea. She was too nice and sweet. “Did you not—”

“Harry, it’s your mom,” she reminded him. He looked up at her, again the startling contrast of his usual put together self and this...broken man made her weak. She wanted to pluck every piece of pain from his body and put it somewhere that would never find him again.

“I know!” he nearly shouted. “I can’t leave though,” he said softer than his shout. It was agonizing, she knew it was breaking him.

“I can do your disposition Harry. You have to go to the hospital.”

“You don’t know the case.”

“Give me the highlights.”

He looked up finally, right in her eyes and stared at her. “You would really do this?” He asked. She nodded. “What about your client?”

“I’ll reschedule. This is more important.”

“I can’t lose this one.”

“I’ll do my level best,” she promised. “Trust me.” He did. Implicitly. All the school projects, every presentation, any time Harry forgot something he knew she wouldn’t. She was always there to make everything they did better. “Just go and don’t worry about this.”

Harry sucked his lip into his mouth as she put the phone to her ear and quickly told the other end of the line she had to reschedule because of a family emergency—but she left out that it wasn’t her family. They could do dinner this evening if she’d like on short notice or coffee tomorrow. It was done with ease and grace. The client at the other end didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. “I don’t think I can do this,” Harry admitted; he wasn’t sure he would tell anyone else that except the girl he had known for his whole life. In Harry’s eyes, no one knew him better—even if she didn’t know it. “This client is very particular, and he’s mean and—”

“I can handle mean,” she said firmly. Harry wasn’t in the headspace to realize she could handle mean because of him. “Harry, you’re going to the hospital. You won’t do a good job if your mind is on your mom and you’re worrying the whole time. Then you’ll be worried you’re ruining the disposition so just let me help.”

He nodded solemnly. She was right, of course. She waited for him to make his decision. His knee bouncing the whole time as she picked the papers off his floor, and she organized them into neat little piles on his desk. “Okay.”

“Okay,” she said and pulled her phone from her purse. “Hit me,” she said holding the phone out to him ready to record.

*

Harry arrived at the hospital. Gemma was in tears but in such shock as she gazed at her arriving brother. “Are you really here?” She asked hugging him tight. He nodded, squeezing her hard.

“How’s Mum?” He asked ignoring her obvious question that he would never willingly leave work—especially if he had an important meeting.

“She’s okay,” she said, eyes red and teary. She nodded firmly. “It was really scary because they wouldn’t say until I got here. Surgery is needed but not life or death,” she explained. “She’ll be ready to see us in a few moments.”

Harry sighed with relief and sat in the waiting room chair. “Christ,” he muttered.

“I thought you had a disposition?” Harry quickly explained the situation and that the sweet girl was taking care of it. “You work with her?” Gemma asked. Harry nodded.

“Yeah, why?”

She shook her head. “I can’t believe you’re...paired again. It’s just fate, y’know?” She mumbled. “S’nice you have her to look after you. To have someone you know and trust nearby,” she told her younger brother. “I love her,” she said with a shrug. “Even if you don’t.”

Harry ignored her. He was focused on his mom. He was relieved she was okay. But he wanted to see her.

His phone vibrated with a text from her. She promised an update as soon as the disposition was finished.

All done. Went well. I left notes on your desk. Let me know if you need anything. Wish your mom and Gem well. Don’t worry about anything else here.

Thank you, kitten.

:)

“Kitten, hmm?”

“Yeah.”

Harry locked his phone. When they went to the room where his mother lay looking banged up but alive, he nearly cried. “Hi Mum,” he sniffed.

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” she smirked easily. Nearly unaffected by the wires and tubes. “How’d you get out of work?” Gemma was delighted to tell the tale of the sweet girl. “Oh, I love her,” Anne grinned tiredly. “Why didn’t you ever bring her home, Harry?” She wondered. Harry started to answer but the arrival of a get-well basket on behalf of that sweet girl made its way through the threshold halting all of Harry’s thoughts of an excuse.

Because he really didn’t know why he never brought her home.

*

At the company party Harry eyed her from across the way. They were definitely friendlier, but Harry was hedging his bets. First and foremost, he was still hesitant to be in love with her. She was perfect and if he thought for two seconds longer, he would realize his stupid idea that he shouldn’t be in love with someone he’s known his whole life wasn’t his issue. Perhaps his issue was that she was perfect, and Harry was not. It seemed cruel for fate to tempt him like that. But maybe there was a reason she was so heavily involved in every aspect of his life.

Harry also wasn’t blind to the implications of dating a coworker.

But most importantly to him, she was so good at everything he couldn’t imagine being a subpar boyfriend when she deserved the very best. Harry didn’t even know how to be a boyfriend. Because of all the schoolwork he focused on he rarely dated anyone longer than a few dates or the occasional hookup.

And he had seen her in action as a girlfriend. Their junior year of university she dated a guy that she obviously adored for nearly a year and a half. She was naturally perfect. Went to every basketball game he was in, brought him soup when he wasn’t feeling well, and looked over his work for him before he turned it in. He was exactly what Harry imagined her boyfriend would be like. Attractive, hardworking, and very sweet to her. They met at the gym while she was studying for her ethics class on the treadmill (he only knew this because he told the story at a party, they both attended and Harry was intently listening).

The only problem Harry had with him—besides the fact he was dating the girl he spent so much time with—was he was not ambitious, and he never planned any of their dates. Harry hated him. She deserved flowers and coffee dates. Ice skating and movies. Once while she was on the phone with her sister when Harry was arriving at one of their study sessions, he knew she wanted a carriage ride around the park at Christmas. It wasn’t hard to figure out, so he was glad when he found out she broke up with him. Even if Harry didn’t like her, he knew she deserved more than that.

“Harry!” It was the client he had to skip out on for his mum the other day. “How’s your mum?” He asked.

“She’s fine, thank you. I’m sorry for the short notice of me not being there,” he said seriously.

“I was mad as hell when she told me you left. I think I screamed at her,” he admitted. Harry didn’t like that at all. The way his blood boiled at the idea of anyone yelling at her made him want to punch his client. Harry never thought himself a violent person, but here he was angry on behalf of a girl he only barely liked. It made him even madder that she didn’t mention anything at all about getting yelled at either. “But she was incredible! You can leave me with her anytime—she was brilliant and poised. I don’t think anyone suspected anything she had to say.”

“Yes, she’s very good,” Harry murmured around a sip of his drink. He was right, too. No one ever suspected the sweet girl to know anything. She was all eyes and beauty. She was softspoken, but her words carried weight. It would be entirely unfair for her to be exceedingly intelligent too. But she was. Harry hated the way people underestimated her, especially when they were paired together. It was like they thought he was only paired with her because she was pretty.

“She’s easy on the eyes too,” he winked at Harry. Harry gripped his drink tighter as he envisioned shattering the glass over top of his head.

“Ha, yeah.”

“Well thank you. I’m glad your mum is okay. I’ll keep you posted about the next meetings,” he said.

Harry nodded. “Have a drink on my tab, please,” he said gratefully.

Harry was suddenly at her side. “You didn’t tell me he yelled at you,” he said interrupting whatever conversation she was in currently.

“Uh, sorry,” she said softly clearing her throat to the gathering that eyed Harry like they’d never seen a man before. It was clear the interruption didn’t bother them solely because Harry was the one interrupting and it gave them an excuse to ogle him up close. She was lucky she spent so much time with him growing up. She could ogle at her own leisure. “Excuse me,” she grabbed Harry by the forearm, and he swore it felt like fire where she touched him. He wracked his brain for a memory if she ever touched him before this moment. “Come again?”

“My client. He told me he yelled at you. You didn’t tell me that.”

“Uh...you were kind of busy Harry. I’m used to getting yelled at, it wasn’t a big deal to—”

“Who yells at you?” He asked quickly. “Why would they yell at you?” Harry felt his blood boiling and he didn’t really know why. He wanted to put her in his office and monitor every interaction she had with anyone else in the world. She should never be yelled at—he would be sure of it going forward.

“Well clients mostly, my sister, you, this woman yelled at me one time at the grocery store—”

“I’ve never yelled at you.”

“Yes, you have,” she shrugged. “It’s not a big deal. We work in a business of yelling, Harry.”

He wanted to throw his glass across the room now. “I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

“Seriously?” She asked.

“Seriously, what?”

“It’s really okay, Harry. I’ve been yelled at before.”

“But you shouldn’t be,” he was exasperated again. It was a quick switch to get to this breaking point of her complete non-understanding of why he was mad. But she didn’t really know why he was mad, and it was unfair of Harry to be so agitated by her when he didn’t even know why he was mad.

“Harry,” she said gently and put a hand on his forearm and gave him a squeeze. She gazed at him with those beautiful, lovely eyes and Harry could feel himself melting at the sweet expression on her face. “It’s okay,” she promised. He tore his arm from her and stalked off angrily sipping his drink before he did something like tell her she loved him.

So much for friends. She thought to herself.

*

Harry never really avoided her at firm parties. But he seemed like he was at this one. She hadn’t seen him in a while, and it oddly made her uncomfortable to not knowing where he was. She supposed since she had been with him for nearly 20 years of her life, when he wasn’t around, she knew. It didn’t make the party any less fun nor did it deter her from chatting with potential and current clients.

“Hello there,” a man said while she waited for her drink at the bar. She could tell he had too much to drink. It was another member of their team. Someone she saw on a very rare occasion. His client load was substantial and kept him busy and away from the office most days.

“Hi,” she said politely. He was a tall man. And with the alcohol coursing his bloodstream he knew very little of personal space.

“You’re very pretty,” he slurred. Her face felt hot at his assessment, and she wished she wasn’t by herself.

“Thank you,” she said gently and walked toward a group of the women she was chatting with before she headed to the bar to get another drink.

“I’ve seen you around,” he said following her another step. “You’re very smart.”

“Try to be—I have to get back to my friends,” she said gesturing to the women nearby. He frowned but she could feel his gaze on her back as she hurried back over. Fortunately, he was gone when she glanced back.

*

At the end of the party, she told her friends she was going to use the restroom before she left and not to worry. She would see them on Monday. What she hadn’t accounted for was the stupid drunk man to be in the darkly lit hallway leading to the bathrooms when she exited. “Hello, again.”

Shit.

“Hi,” she said gently. She sounded a lot braver than she was. There was no one in sight at all.

“I wanted to tell you how pretty you were earlier.”

“You did.”

“Well, I wanted to tell you again.”

“Thank you,” she said and stepped forward to brush past him. He grabbed her arm. She felt her fight or flight kick in and she desperately wanted to fly. “Excuse me, I’m leaving. I’m expected home soon—”

“Can’t you come home with me?” He asked with a sick smirk on his face.

She shook her head. “Let go of me,” she said firmly.

“Come on, I can make it worth your while,” he pulled her arm hard making the space between them almost disappear. She didn’t like how small she felt. She hated that about her job. She was constantly made to feel small because she was a woman. His height didn’t help. Neither did the alcohol.

But right now, it was a hundred times worse, and it made her stomach churn. She wanted to throw up and for a moment she thought maybe that would help her escape. “No thank you,” she said pulling harder on her arm that would surely have a bruise when she looked later.

“Well how about right here?” His smile was evil and vile. She really wanted to throw up now. Why didn’t she just go home with her friends?

With as much force as she could muster, she stomped on his inner foot, and he gasped and released her arm in shock. “Fuck!” He shouted. She hurried down the hall, tears filling her vision but somehow, he was right behind her, grabbing her arm again and pushing her against the wall causing her to yelp. “You’re going to regret that,” he snarled in her ear.

Before she had time to cry or vomit (or both) his presence was gone, and she fell to the floor at the lack of pressure against her body. She scrambled to her feet and turned to see Harry towering over the man he had clearly thrown to the ground. The panic flooding her body subsided immensely. Her heart rate was still elevated on behalf of Harry but seeing him made her feel so much safer.

 “She said no,” Harry said with so much anger in his voice she was terrified. He dared one glance back at her to see her back on her feet. His eyes were furious. She had seen him argue in mock trials and even been to some of his real court dates. Harry may have disliked her for a long part of their lives, but she had never seen hatred like this.

She would have hated to be the man on the receiving end of his look. “She’s a taunting little bitch. I’ve heard the way you talk about her,” he snapped at Harry. “Leave us alone.”

“I’ve known her my whole life. She knows I don’t talk about her,” Harry said knowingly. His voice was so deep, and the intensity of his words left her woozy; she couldn’t imagine someone protecting her—least of all Harry. And his words were true of course. As much as he disliked her, no one ever had a bad thing to say about her at the hands of Harry. “I will not be leaving her alone.”

She nearly sighed with relief at his statement. He turned quickly, grabbed her hand, and pushed her in front of him as he guided them out of the hallway and out of the restaurant. There were people milling about, but it was late, and it wasn’t crowded by any means. If Harry wasn’t there, she doesn’t want to think about what would have happened. He ushered them a few paces away from the restaurant up the sidewalk.

“Are you alright?” He asked suddenly, he turned her to face him as they stood under the streetlight outside. She was shaking like she was cold, and Harry wanted to reach out and warm her. The last five minutes were catching up to her violently. “Kitten?” He almost snapped, desperate for some indication that she was okay. “Are you okay?”

She nodded then shook her head. “I-I’m fine,” she said and sniffled wiping her sleeve across her nose. “I just want to go home,” she said with an awkward laugh and then the tears started to blur her vision.

“Kitten, I’m not going to leave you alone until I see you lock your door and you’re home safely. So it’s okay to not be okay, just tell me,” again, he sounded exasperated with her.

“Yeah, no I’m okay...” she whimpered biting her lip trying to erase the thoughts from her head of the last few moments. Harry was there and she was okay. “No...no...” she shook her head as the tears steadily fell. She gasped out a strangled cry and Harry pulled her to him immediately. She was overwhelmed by a lot of things but also that he felt so safe and sturdy as he held her. His arms around her protectively, he cupped his hand on the back of her head and one arm around her waist. The sobs left her freely then.

“S’okay,” he said so gently it hurt more than anything that happened to her. Harry being so nice to her nearly wounded her. The safety of his embrace left her breathless. His thumb rubbing over her hair made her weak. “You’re safe, kitten,” he promised. “I got you.”

*

Harry held her hand the entire cab ride home. She sniffled and each time she did, Harry squeezed her hand reassuringly. The cab stopped outside her apartment building, and she reached for her purse for money. “Stop,” Harry said putting her hand to her side and paying the driver. Harry followed behind her while they made it up the stairs to her second-floor place. Every so often she glanced back to see if Harry was still there. “M’not going anywhere, kitten,” he promised.

She nodded, unlocked her door and pushed inside. “Can I get—”

“Just go sit down, love,” he shook his head at her. “I’ll be right in,” he said making his way for the kitchen. His voice was gentle. Like when she wasn’t feeling well, and he made her nap and eat.

She followed his direction. She felt a little out of place in her own apartment and she twiddled her fingers together as she waited in silence for Harry to come to her living room. He was there shortly, a glass of water for her. She reached out for it, but Harry noticed how her hand was still shaking. “Here,” he said bringing the cup to her lips. He gently cradled the back of her head with his other hand. She felt like a child as Harry helped her drink, but he didn’t pay any mind to the situation at all—he just didn’t want her to spill and make a mess that she would have to worry about right now. “Can I get you anything else?” He wondered. His voice was so deep and gentle in comparison to the hatred he spewed before in every word he spoke.

She shook her head, more tears filling her eyes. “Thank you,” she said gratefully.

He shook his head back at her. “Don’t,” he sighed. “I would never let anything happen to you, kitten,” he promised. Her heart fluttered, despite everything. It was by far one of the sweetest things Harry ever said to her. “I’m glad you’re home safe now. I can leave if you want—"

She was quick to protest. Too quick. “No! Please don’t,” the words rushed out of her mouth before she could stop them. She turned to look at the empty dark apartment as a distraction from her cheeks turning into two red tomatoes. She cleared her throat regaining her composure as she looked back at Harry. She was lucky the tears filled her vision again at the frustration and sadness of her evening overwhelming her again.

“I won’t go until you want me to, kitten,” Harry answered pressing his hand to her face. He brushed his thumb gently over her cheek bone and caught the stray tear that spilled over. His voice was so quiet and soft. It was so different than every interaction he ever had with her.

“Really?” She whispered breathlessly.

“No, baby,” he promised. “I won’t.”

She didn’t think and wrapped herself up in his embrace. It worked so naturally of course. His arms wrapped around her, and he tugged her carefully, so he was snuggled into the corner of her sofa with her cuddled into him. She sighed with relief as tears flowed onto his shirt and coat. She sniveled miserably. “I’ll have to get this dry cleaned for you,” she managed to mumble between her tears.

“Would you please just shut up?” The exasperation was thick in his tone. It kind of made her smile.

“Okay,” she whispered sniveling still.

After a few moments her cries subsided, and Harry let his fingers dance up and down her arm as he held her close to him. He tried not to think about how perfectly she fit in the empty spaces of his body. “Harry?” She asked quietly.

“Hmm?”

“Thank you,” she said again.

He sighed, a bit irritated that she was thanking him for being a decent human being and protecting her. But he knew she was uncomfortable and upset. “You’re welcome, kitten,” he said softly. “Go to sleep.”

*

“I can’t do that, Harry. His client base is too substantial.”

“Let him leave with them, then,” Harry snapped. He was pacing Louis’ office. Adamant something be done.

“Harry, stop,” Louis rubbed his hand over his face. “We can get her a restraining order if she wants, and we can put him on a different floor so he never—”

“You need to fire him,” Harry said. “Or she and I will take all our clients and leave instead,” he promised.

He stared at his friend. “Harry.”

“Louis, you fire him, or you’ll have to represent me when I kill him.”

There was a knock outside Louis’ door before the pretty girl entered, making the anger in Harry’s heart dissipate immensely. “Oh, hi Harry,” she murmured and looked at her feet nervously. “You wanted to see me, Mr. Tomlinson?” She asked softly.

Harry gazed at her so adoringly, he couldn’t stop himself. His blood was on fire the moment he saw her struggling. He never thought about murdering someone seriously in his whole life. Yet there he was—ready to kill someone on behalf of the sweet girl. “Call me Louis, love. Please.”

She nodded. “Louis, then. Am...I in trouble?” She asked curiously.

Harry sighed in exasperation and ran his hand over his face in disbelief. She stared at Harry curiously as he made his assessment. “You’re an idiot,” he said to her.

She looked at her feet, feeling her face warm at his insult. “Harold,” Louis snapped. “No love, you’re not in trouble. I wanted to make sure you were alright.”

“Oh.”

There was a bit of silence. “Well, are you alright?” He repeated. Harry wanted to shake her a bit. She was beyond infuriatingly annoying sometimes.

“I’m okay,” she said softly. “Uh...Harry protected me.”

“Yes, he’s decent every once in a while.”

She smirked. “He is.”

“Can I do anything for you to ensure you feel safe while you’re working?”

“Oh, um...no—”

“You can fire him,” Harry repeated.

“Harry, that’s not necessary,” she shook her head, her face feeling flushed.

His right eye twitched and he looked out Louis’ window; stuffed his hands in his pockets as he muttered to himself. “I don’t want you to feel like you’re not safe while you’re here,” Louis said knowingly.

Harry wasn’t watching her, but she looked right at him as she answered Louis. “I feel safe,” she said softly.

Louis smirked and shook his head at Harry who still wasn’t paying any attention. Talk about an idiot in this scenario. “I’m very sorry that happened to you. He will be reprimanded beyond belief, you have my word. We’ll be moving his office to a different floor as well,” he promised.

“Louis, you weren’t there,” Harry reminded him. “You didn’t watch her cry while she fell asleep—”

“Harry!” She gasped at the admission and her face felt warm. That was not something she wanted her boss to know. It painted the wrong picture—even if she slept so well in the comfort of Harry’s arms. Louis didn’t pay any attention to their night spent together, though. He was keeping his eyes on Harry.

“I wanted to kill him,” Harry repeated. She gulped at the idea of Harry doing something so violent for her. Something that would get him thrown in jail for a long while.

“I understand that,” Louis said simply. “Love, I’m very sorry,” he returned his attention to the poor girl who looked wildly uncomfortable. “If there is something I can do for you, don’t hesitate to ask. I know you have Harry in the office next to you, but if he’s not around, I’d be happy to assist you with anything,” he said kindly.

“Thank you, I appreciate it,” she said courteously.

“Harold,” Louis said narrowing his eyes at him.

“Whatever,” he grumbled and stalked out of the office.

“I’m...sorry about him,” she said nervously.

“Don’t worry love, I’ve known Harry for a long while. He means well. He’s just thick headed sometimes,” he shrugged. “I’m serious though, if you need something or want something, let me know.”

“I will, thank you.”

Shaking her head, she exited his office and headed back to her own. She grabbed a cup of coffee from the breakroom as she passed it and tried to think about the to-do list she had for the day. Mentally, she added a dry-cleaner stop for Harry’s suit she cried all over as well. It wasn’t much, but it was the least she could do as a thank you for all he did. As she paced the last few steps toward her office, she tried to convince herself the last few moments in Louis’ office were real. Harry was angry at Louis (and maybe her, what else was new?) for something beyond his control. She wondered why he was so adamant but found it sweet in Harry’s own way.

She closed her office door behind her and tilted her head at Harry sitting on the couch. As she entered, he stood up and gazed at her without speaking. It looked like he was looking through her. She bit the inside of her lip as she held the coffee with both of her hands to keep her tingling fingers warm at the idea that Harry was waiting for her. “Can I help you?” She asked.

“I’m going to be a shitty boyfriend.”

She blinked in complete confusion. It was by far the last thing she ever expected Harry to say. “I’m sorry?”

“I get all wrapped up in m’own stuff and I forget dates even though they’re in m’calendar and reminders and everything. It’ll infuriate you. I’ll make up for it with grand sweeping gestures that will maybe make it better, but they might just make y’madder that I can’t remember the little things.”

“Harry, what—”

“M’so in love with you and I’ve been ignoring it since we were kids. The six months I worked here without you were the longest months ’ve gone without seeing you and I didn’t even want t’see you, but I don’t want to go that long without seeing you ever again. I barely want t’go an hour without seeing you and even when I do I think about you the whole time,” he started to pace across her office back and forth as if was retracing his steps to remember all the things he was saying. Like they were written on the carpet.

“Can you just—”

“I’ll be better than that tool y’dated in third year,” she wondered where that came from because she didn’t even know he knew she was dating someone. “I’ll give you everything y’want or need whenever you ask. I’ll plan dates, I’ll take y’anywhere you want t’go, I’ll walk on hot coals for you, if you ask. I love you so goddamn much, love. I want to murder someone for you, and I wouldn’t bat an eyelash; ’ve never felt this way ‘bout anyone before. You’re infuriatingly sweet and y’never know when t’shut up or what’s good for you. It’s probably going t’get y’killed one day and I don’t know how someone s’sweet could be a corporate lawyer. You’re unbelievably challenging in so many ways and y’always remind me that I don’t know everything even though I think I do. Mum and Gemma want me t’bring you t'Sunday dinners.”

She shook her head trying to process all of this it didn’t help that he was jumping from topic to topic. Harry had given speeches in college before. She listened to many of his own closing arguments and of course read countless persuasive essays. This wasn’t anything like any of that. This was wild and out of sorts. She wondered what was flowing in his head and why it was spewing out like this, why it was happening now. “Harry, what are you—”

“You asked me t’be friends because you thought we’d be good friends since we spent all that time together. Quite frankly you’re m’best friend. Even though I was miserable towards you all the time. I don’t know why I did that t’you and s’jus’ another reason you should tell me t’take a hike. No one knows me as well as you do. Sleeping with you on your couch made m’neck so sore I can’t turn it to the left, but it was the best sleep of m’life and I want t’do it over and over again if I can hold you.”

That made her face flood with heat so quickly she was sure she looked bright red. “Harry, honestly, I’m—”

“I will never hurt you and I will never let anyone hurt you while m’around.” This time she didn’t interrupt him she could feel her face soften at his words and she felt like she was going to cry if he talked any longer. “I don’t think I know anyone half s’beautiful as you, kitten, inside or out,” he said softly. Everything else he said felt like a sprint. A rush of words he had been dying to get out for who knows how long. “Please, be my girlfriend,” he said finally, slowly at last.

They stared at each other silently for several moments.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Thank you.”

[atlafan]

based off this blurb...

Why would someone ever want to be a lawyer? It’s three extra years of school, a ton of hard work and memorization, interning for no pay, and dealing with the politics of actually working at a firm. Growing up, there was a lot of pressure put on Blake to become something important. By important, her father meant someone of status in society. Apparently, doctors and lawyers are the only important people out there. Blake is squeamish, so becoming a doctor was not an option. So, her father pushed her into the lawyer  track.

In high school, Blake made sure to take advanced psychology, U.S. history, government, and public speaking courses. For undergrad, she went to Duke. She knew she would end up going to a law school in New England, so she wanted to get out and away for a bit. Besides that, Duke’s pre-law program is one of the best in the country. Blake couldn’t decide what law she wanted to practice, all she knew was that she couldn’t major in criminal justice. Her father told her to stay away from criminal law because, “there’s no money in it. If you’re going to break your back and work 80-hour weeks, at least make some money”.

So, she majored in business with a minor in pre-law. Most corporate high-paying firms deal with business and entertainment. Blake made sure to study public relations and media studies as well. Her father was pleased with her decisions. He was even more pleased when Blake was accepted into Harvard Law School. Three years of non-stop studying and hard work got her to be in the top ten of her graduating cohort. None of that really meant anything, though. Just because she was good at taking notes and applying her studies to cases didn’t mean she would excel at a firm. It didn’t mean she would excel in a boardroom. It didn’t mean shit.

Blake interned at a firm for two years while still in law school. That’s where she first met Harry. He was a junior associate at the time. He was one of the few associates that didn’t treat her like a secretary. It’s a man’s world. She knew that, of course, but it’s still annoying to live through it day after day. Harry never let his eyes wander, he never made lewd comments, and he certainly never crossed any lines that would warrant HR’s involvement. Harry had also gone to Harvard Law, so he was a great person to rant to about certain professors. Blake never minded working late if she was assigned to help Harry.

And of course she developed a crush on him, it would have been impossible not to. He’s funny and sweet and smart. He’s the total package. But Blake couldn’t take it further than friendship. There was a multitude of reasons why. She needed to stay focused. She didn’t have time for a relationship. Getting involved with an associate when you’re just an intern is a major no-no. And the biggest reason was that Harry was in a committed relationship. He was twenty-eight and engaged. He and his fiancé hadn’t set a date yet. He wanted to wait until he was bumped up to senior associate.

Blake never got the chance to find out when that wedding date was. When she entered her second year of interning, Harry had accepted a position at another law firm. He’d be a senior associate on the fast track to becoming a non-equity partner. He couldn’t pass that up. Blake thought of him often, but she didn’t think it would be appropriate for her to contact him just to see how he was. However, she did find it appropriate to contact him three months before her law school graduation when she was applying for firms and she saw that he had, in fact, become a non-equity partner at a firm she really wanted to work for. She had his personal email, so why not?

Harry remembered Blake…just barely. But he recognized her name and was happy to see that she had made it through law school. He told her about an upcoming networking opportunity the firm would be having – some sort of “Spring Mixer”. Just about everyone from the firm would be there, including human resources, and it was open to prospective associates. She’d just have to pay a small fee for a ticket. Harry told her he’d take care of that because he knows how broke law students are. He told her to put the money towards a nice outfit, and business cards with her contact information on them.

Blake was nervous for the event. She knew how to network, but the event itself was at a really exclusive, swanky club. She had to spend a lot of money on a proper cocktail dress. Her father insisted on her buying a pair of red bottoms as well. She thought it was excessive, but she also knows that first impressions are everything. Harry gave her his contact information so he could meet her at the entrance. She was relieved when she saw him. They shook hands, and he guided her inside. He pointed out various people she would want to talk to if she wanted one of the open junior associate positions.

“Just so you know, I think you’ll at least get an interview.” He told her after handing her a seltzer with lime. He had mentioned it’s best to make it look like you’re drinking at these events. “Diversity, equity, and inclusion are hot buzzwords right now. You’re a woman and you’re Jewish, so you’re the perfect diverse candidate.”

“I’m a white woman, that’s not exactly diverse.” She muttered.

“No, but a lot of these old shits will think so. They’ll think they’ve done their part to meet their quota. It sucks, and I’m not a fan of it, but it’s something you’ll want to play up right now to help yourself stand out.”

Blake understood what Harry was saying. It wouldn’t take a rocket scientist to figure it out. She worked her way around the room, speaking with various equity partners and management partners, giving out her business cards and making herself look good. She dropped Harry’s name a few times, which many people smiled at. Harry even told her she could use him as a reference for when she applied. She didn’t take that lightly. She didn’t take any of the night lightly.

When she got home that night, she immediately took out her blank cards, and wrote Harry a thank you. She wrote a number of thank you cards, but she made Harry’s much more personalized. These little things go a long way.

She applied to various law firms, but the only one she wanted to hear back from was Langley, West, Monroe, and Associates. That’s where Harry worked. And she wanted to work in their entertainment law division. It’s what she was most passionate about, but she also mentioned that she has expertise with business law as well.

Two weeks before graduating from Harvard Law, Blake got the call she had been waiting for. An interview. The interview led to a second interview, the second interview led to an offer, that offer led to negotiations, and the negotiations led to an acceptance of that offer.

Her father couldn’t have been more proud.

Blake and Harry work in the same division, often working on some of the same larger projects. Harry works one on one with quite a few sports agents. He helps the agents and the players go over their contracts. It’s simple stuff. He also does a lot of work with copyright and fair use laws, helping artists get their money, those sort of things. Blake usually helps with those. She loves getting to combine business and entertainment law. And thanks to all of her study skills over the years, her brain is like a search engine. She can whip out cases left and right to help her clients. The junior and senior associates usually all hang out together, some even live together. The only times Harry and Blake are at the same social gatherings is if there’s an event for the entire firm, or there’s business to be done. And since there’s always business to be done, neither of them have the time to talk about things in their personal lives when they’re working together. No, Blake saves those chats for her fellow associates over drinks and dinner. She’s made some good friends at the firm. She’s grateful.

{READ WHEN YOU'RE READY ON PATREON NOW}

[dream-with-a-fever]

ron weasley did not

come to privet drive to rescue harry from his abusive home after he hadn’t been replying to any of his letters and he was worried

almost back out of following the spiders bc they’re his biggest fear, but upon seeing hermione’s empty seat at dinner, find the courage to go

defend hermione from any and everyone who called her a mudblood

constantly worry about hermione’s workload (especially in 3rd year) and notice that whenever she disappeared

offer to teach hermione his entire family tree so that she could pretend to be pure blood to keep her safe from death eaters

defend harry to everyone (percy, seamus, half the school) when everyone thought he was lying about voldemort’s return

stand up on his broken leg in front of harry and say that “if you want to kill harry, you’ll have to kill us first!” to what they believed to be a raving lunatic mass murderer

gift dobby his newest weasley jumper and the new socks he got given for christmas

stand up against snape when he was bullying hermione (and got a detention as a result)

beg the deatheaters who were torturing hermione to “leave her alone!! take [him], have [him] instead!”

always check up on his friends when he notices something is up, even if it’s in subtle ways

immediately befriend harry on the train in ps and teach him about the wizarding world

write to charlie immediately so he could help hagrid out of trouble (re the dragon, norbert)

encourage neville to stand up to people, and praise him when he actually does it

help harry put on his pajamas after he broke his arm during quidditch

have to be physically restrained from attacking malfoy after he said he wished hermione had died in cos

worry about harry’s preoccupation with the mirror of erised and how it was affecting him

remind hermione to eat her meals and get a good night’s sleep when she’s studying 24/7 for their owl exams

display acute levels of emotional intelligence in the way he interacts with harry and hermione, essentially being the glue that keeps them all together

get splinched almost in half, lose blood and suffer agonising pain but seem more worried about the cattermoles and whether or not they were okay

realise his mistakes & own up to them, acknowledging his role in certain falling outs (especially in deathly hallows)

be genuinely hilarious and fun, and lighten the load in everyone else’s’ lives with the humour he brings to

write to his mother in ps asking her to give harry presents too because he doesn’t think he’ll received any

go to the department of mysteries to help harry without a second a thought

go on the run with harry to hunt for horcruxes without a second thought

run to hermione’s aid when malfoy hits her with a nasty hex outside snape’s classroom and take her to the hospital wing

help hermione with buckbeak’s appeal, spending hours upon hours reading up on the case

extend the first olive branch after fighting with hermione because of scabber’s “death” and apologising, after which she then apologises too

demand to re-try out for the position of keeper on the quidditch team because he wanted to earn it himself with no favouritism or help

choose to stay on the quidditch team despite the bullying from the slytherin team and his nerves about his flying ability

stand up to malfoy at every opportunity, when he was insulting him, but more importantly, insulting his family & his friends

save harry’s life in dh by pulling him out of the lake, and then kill the horcrux

remember the houseelves during the battle of hogwarts and worry about their safety

continue to admire and adore his older twin brothers despite the fact that they were sometimes cruel to him

become almost annoyingly protective of his little sister (ESPECIALLY after the diary situation)

single-handedly out smart and escape five armed and deadly snatchers

try his best to overcome his insecurities and feelings of being overlooked, in order to support the people around him

sacrifice himself without a second thought during the chess game in ps because he knew harry’s survival was more important than his

for y’all to speak on him the way you do. calling him cruel, evil, selfish etc??? open your fucking eyes

[coldfeeshes]

office worker au! drarry

new hire harry x nepo baby draco.

surely draco malfoy, sole scion of malfoy & sons llc, is Up To Something by working in this no name firm...

it doesn't help that they're high school exes.

crossposted, [twitter link]

[placeboelysium]

Last night was a "sketch 20 things but don't make much actual progress" kinda night

[maxdibert]

Well, after reading Snater arguments on Reddit, there’s something I’d like to comment on. I mean, I’m a lawyer, and I’m a lawyer who advocates for social reintegration, not punishment. So when I think about morally questionable characters, I always think like a lawyer. It’s something I can’t avoid because I spent years memorizing laws, and that fries your brain, so you’re just going to have to bear with me here.

The point is, I don’t give a damn that Snape hung out with the bad guys. I don’t care that he followed Voldemort because, from a legal standpoint, Severus more than paid his debt to the community. First of all, there’s no evidence that Severus killed anyone before Dumbledore asked him to perform a rather shady kind of euthanasia. That means his involvement with the Death Eaters was essentially collaboration with a criminal group. If we take into account that he later switched sides and became cooperative with the “good guys,” then in any trial, that would already significantly reduce his sentence, which, considering that he didn’t commit murder, wasn’t involved in any attempted homicides, and didn’t directly collaborate in major crimes, would already be pretty short.

But if we also consider that after switching sides, he worked as a double agent, then we can count his service as a kind of probation with community service. In other words: serving a sentence. For me, Severus Snape served both time and punishment for the actions he committed. A sentence that was much longer and harsher than his crimes warranted. So I don’t give a damn what he did before because he’s already paid his debt to society, and any democratic legal system would see it that way. And I don’t believe in life sentences or the death penalty because they’re useless, capitalist punishments, so whatever. The point is that Severus paid. He paid with his life, both metaphorically and literally, because from the moment he joined Dumbledore, he had no life of his own. He had no future. His entire world became focused on doing whatever it took to pay his debt to society. A debt that, in the end, led to his death. So, yeah, he might seem like an asshole and a bad person to you, just like I see plenty of assholes and bad people who come into my office, but the reality is, if they serve their sentence, they settle their debt. And Severus paid more than he owed. Honestly, I wish there were lawyers and therapists in the wizarding world—maybe that’s why things are such a mess there, lol.

[genericaces]

buffy season 69 au where xander and anya (read: anya) get filthy rich off of bitcoin, immediately lose it all on ape nfts, and are forced to live on the run from the irs

[leverage-ot3]

love how we all went into redemption either wary of or expecting to hate harry but within two episodes we all collectively went, oh, he’s just some lil weird guy and we adopted him just like the leverage crew did

[tanaudel]

Harry Wilson's enthusiastic nodding when the accountant starts talking, while everyone else in "The Mastermind Job" is glazing over.

[scorpiusmalfoylovesoscarwilde]

I've said it before, I'll say it again, and I'm sure it won't be the last time. I AM SICK AND BLOODY TIRED OF THESE MFS, HALF OF WHO DONT EVEN CARE ABOUT CURSED CHILD, BITCHING AND MOANING ABOUT AN ANGSTY TEEN DARING TO BE AN ANGSTY TEEN, I WILL FIGHT THE LOT OF YOU

(this is gonna be a bit long and probably incoherent so sit down and fucking listen to me 🔫 stick with me because I'm not just complaining about albus haters)

eVERYBODY wants cOoMmpllEeXx relatable HUMAN characters - and then SHIT themselves when the flaws a CHILD has isn't just 🥺 uwu im socially awkward and traumatised 🥺. that's why scorpius doesn't get this fuckass treatment, because his terrible human flaw is that he's a bit shit at conversation and gets sad about his dead mum (generalised understatement, but this post isnt about him. dont come for me i love him 🫶🏻)

god forbid albus, who feels unloved and unwanted (with valid evidence for a teenager), albus who feels completely out of place and outcast from his entire famously-close-knit family, ablus who is well known by the world by default via Harry and hates the attention and high expectations, albus who then gets targeted and bullied by his peers because he's not as perfect and brilliant as his father, albus who is then isolated from his one friend because Harry is making irrational ptsd fueled decisions, albus who tells Harry completely sincerely that he knows he's unlikeable but he'll try and change himself and be more like his siblings because he genuinely believes that's what Harry and everyone else whos had the misfortune of meeting him wants, albus who spends the entire play trying to prove himself and fix things via idiotic childish decisions BECAUSE HES A WHOLE UNSTABLE CHILD

god forbid that CHILD doesn't react like a patient, supported, well adjusted, level headed adult. god forbid he reacts outwardly. god forbid he reacts at all, my bad. clearly he should just sniffle a bit as if he doesn't feel suffocated and helpless by everything in his life, because obviously hes just a spoiled brat who doesn't know what real suffering is. god forbid he complains or feels anything negatively, or doesn't quite grasp that other people are struggling too because he is too busy trying so hard to deal with himself and his declining mental health the best he can with basically no support or understanding. god forbid he isn't completely perfect.

you all sound like some fucking boomer telling teenagers they don't know what real struggling is, they aren't mentally ill, they dont have any problems because they have a roof over their head, they should all go to war kids are too soft these days 😫😖😱 fUCKING‼️SHUT UP‼️

he does things wrong but he knows he does and he does everything he can to fix it! and he is fourteen!!! do none of you remember what being fourteen is like 😭😭 I swear half of you have got to be basically fourteen yourselves cmon man

cause I'm seeing this fucking pattern a lot recently. not just for albus, not just in this fandom, everywhere. ‼️ no one can fucking handle flawed characters anymore ‼️ the only thing any character is allowed to have wrong with them is trauma apparently, otherwise they have to be perfect, and I'm getting sick of it. characters and stories are meant to reflect real life, they're meant to help shape our world view, why are you expecting everyone to be fucking perfect??? what happened to nuance? what happened to understanding character development? you are all acting like characters and people are so black and white. either they're perfect or they're insufferable and evil. I won't lie, the most common victims i've noticed of this are women. but the flawed women are typically demonised, whereas the men are typically turned into uwu baby boys who actually aren't capable of doing anything wrong and then fanon goes nuts making them into ittle wittle victims. and I'm so fucking sick of all of it, I hate this. (obviously this is not a strict rule. Albus Potter, and also Albus Dumbledore now I mention it, are demonised beyond belief)

BRING BACK FLAWS AND BRING BACK NOT COMPLETELY WRITING OFF A CHARACTER BECAUSE THEY DARE TO BE HUMAN

I AM FED UP, ALBUS POTTER GET BEHIND ME

[louisplumpyass]

the relentless barrister

“I overheard Smith today while he was sitting on his patio... clearly unaware of his surroundings.”

That has Harry bring all his attention back to Louis, not sure where this is heading. He waits for him to continue, scrub daddy in one hand, dirty plate in another, he slowly starts scrubbing the dish.

“He likes to ogle us, specifically you.” Louis starts, his tone terrifyingly cold.

“What?” Harry’s jaw drops and so does the plate in his hand.

lawyer!louis professor!harry

oneshot! (explicit)

[1d1195]

Zipper Extra VII

As much as I love this couple, I struggled to come up with an idea for this so I hope this works.

~3.5k words

“I want it to be perfect,” she whispered.

“For whom, m’love?” He wondered. “For me? You’re there. We could get married in trash bags and be married by an alien,” he reminded her making her smile so gorgeously it made Harry’s heart skip a beat.

Harry was losing his mind again.

There was a ring on her finger and somehow that made her more enticing to the men that saw her in public. At the coffee shop, Harry would look at the different roasts to take home and someone would immediately start chatting with her asking to buy her coffee unaware that Harry was only a few feet away. Of course she stopped them politely, explained her fiancé was right there. “Oh, I didn’t even notice the ring,” the man murmured, further turning Harry green with envy.

When they were at the grocery store, the bagger insisted on lifting her items and offered to take them to her car while Harry headed back to grab something they inevitably forgot. Once more she assured the man that her fiancé was more than capable of doing so. “Hmm...I didn’t see your ring,” he admitted.

Of course they didn’t.

Why would anyone bother to look away from her pretty face for even a second to see if she was happily taken?

It soured Harry’s mood immensely. Naturally, she was kind about it on the ride home. She didn’t speak about it at all, merely held his hand as he drove and gave it a gentle squeeze every couple of minutes. She would tell him all about her ideas for their wedding; how she wanted sunset colors for her bouquet: peach, golden yellow, some light orange colors, sprigs of purple, and rosy pinks. “I think it will offset the blue dresses the girls will wear really nicely,” she explained.

He typically grunted in response still feeling frustrated over how someone blatantly flirted with her. It shouldn’t have surprised him. She was so pretty and so nice. It was a wonder Harry didn’t resort to physical fights. Eventually after a few grunts she would finally ask. “Do you have any ideas of what you want? I’ve been struggling with a seating arrangement plan. I see lots of cool things on Pinterest, but nothing really speaks to me.”

Almost always it worked. Harry would clear his throat, forced to answer her question. He had to forget about the jealousy that filled him because he would rather die than not help his fiancée with whatever it was she wanted. “M’not too sure,” he murmured. “What are the options?” Because he was not going to be one of those men who did nothing to help plan. She went through hundreds of different options and questions. They were pretty agreeable on most fronts.

“Having the seats listed on a mirror is really popular these days. I went to a wedding in college that was on a windowpane and that was cool. I’m really into this thing I saw though it almost looks like a clothesline—little clips hold the cards in place for people to find it.”

Harry could hear the way her voice changed when she talked about the little clothesline. “I like that,” he smiled.

“Yeah? You’re not just saying that?” She always asked.

“No, kitten. Course not,” if he didn’t like it, he would tell her. “I think it’ll be beautiful.”

“I was also thinking about our welcome sign.”

“Hmm?”

Harry knew she was trying to trick him into feeling less jealous the longer she spoke. It worked too. “I’ve been trying to come up with something punny. Finally found ‘you’ve been sentenced to a lifetime of happiness,’” she giggled. Harry snorted and shook his head. “Is that lame?” He glanced at her peripherally as they pulled onto their apartment’s street.

“Not if y’want it, love,” he assured her.

“I know, but I want you—”

“I think it’s adorable,” he pulled into a spot on the street and parked. He turned to her finally, gazing into her soft, pretty eyes. He looked at her lips and brought his hand to her face admiring how warm her skin felt beneath his palm. She was so pretty every moment of the day it was incredible she was all his to admire.

“It’ll have a gavel below the words, and I want it to be decorated with the flowers we pick,” she continued.

“You’ve already made the sale, kitten,” he chuckled, brushed his thumb on her lip.

“I want it to be perfect,” she whispered.

“For whom, m’love?” He wondered. “For me? You’re there. We could get married in trash bags and be married by an alien,” he reminded her making her smile so gorgeously it made Harry’s heart skip a beat.

“Well,” she sighed. “When you put it that way.”

“M’sorry m’a jealous monster,” he whispered quietly.

She blushed below his hand, and she glanced from his uninterrupted gaze. “I don’t think you’re a monster. I don’t think you have anything to be jealous of either.”

He smiled; pressed his lips to her forehead and nodded. “Probably not, but can’t help it,” he shrugged. “M’sorry.”

“I would probably tear a girl’s eyes out if she even looked at you.”

Harry laughed loudly. “I would never make y’jealous, kitten. Ever. But I would love t’see that.”

*

It was going to be a spring wedding. Spring in the loosest sense of the word. It was going to be on the first day of spring but there was no way of knowing if it would be a warm spring day or a holdover of a cold winter day.

It didn’t bother her much planning most of it. Everyone in her life told her a thousand different things that made her anxious and sick of hearing the difference of opinions when the only opinion she cared about was Harry’s.

“I want to show you my dress so bad,” she told him while they snuggled on the couch watching a movie.

He smiled. “I can’t wait t’see it, kitten. Gonna look like an angel,” he kissed the top of her head.

She buried her face into his side. “I don’t know about angel,”

He chuckled. “Course y’will, love. Y’look like an angel every day,” he reminded her.

She laughed, muffled by his ribcage. If she had the ability to tell her younger self she would one day be engaged to Harry Styles she didn’t think there was a world in which she would have believed it. But right beside him, calling her an angel. It seemed like the surest thing to ever bet on.

*

“Mom,” she sighed rubbing her forehead. Harry was walking in the door, a box of cupcakes for tasting. He picked them up after a long day of work. She could see the exhaustion on his face. There were dark circles under his eyes and his hair had that look that he ran his hand through it too many times.

On the table was a giant poster board filled with sticky notes that was supposed to keep them organized in planning but felt like a full-time job some nights.

Her mom was talking in her ear about how her uncle wanted to bring his new girlfriend despite the fact his ex-wife was going to be there, and they did not get along. “Mom, it’s my wedding!” She was practically bubbling with tears. Harry rushed over, missing the counter as he put the box down, which left the cupcakes smeared on the floor in the process. Harry looked at the box like it was the box’s fault but feeling shame that it was his own doing.

Her jaw dropped in shock, unable to believe the chaos that seemed to creep in every moment the closer it got to the wedding. It was only four months away and they had already been planning for so long. While she looked at the ruined cupcakes, she listened to her mom try to reason with her that it was what you were supposed to do at a wedding. They could rearrange everyone when the time came so that everyone was happy.

“Mom, I have to call you back,” she mumbled and hung up without another word. Poor exhausted Harry looked at the cupcakes.

“Fuck, m’sorry, kitten,” he frowned. “I thought y’were going t’cry and I just wanted t’make sure y’didn’t...I can call and ask for another dozen and go get them right now—”

“Can we get married this weekend?” She looked at him nervously. “Please?” She whispered.

His voice felt broken. They had been planning for nearly a year. A wedding that they were grateful to afford because so many could not have the elaborate wedding they were planning. One that had everything they wanted. But even in their own planning, it was their wedding and yet it was still dissolving into anxiety and madness. It was supposed to be in front of all their friends and family. “But what ‘bout—”

“We can do that one too, but I’m going crazy. You’re going crazy,” her voice cracked. “I just want to be your wife. I don’t care about any of this anymore,” she whispered.

“Kitten,” he cooed.

“I know I’m crazy but if one more person asks if they can bring their child after I specifically said no children I’m going to scream,” she sniffled.

“Baby,” he frowned. “Please don’t cry,” he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her forehead. “I know s’overwhelming but I want you t’have—”

“Then please marry me. This weekend,” she repeated into his shirt.

“How on earth could I say no to you?” He asked rhetorically.

*

Angelic was insulting compared to how beautiful she looked. In fact, there wasn’t a word to describe how perfect that dress looked on her. It literally stole Harry’s breath away. “Breathe,” Louis muttered to him as she entered. His voice felt frozen, and he wondered how on earth he was going to get through vows.

Louis was the only person they told. He closed the office down for the night. Told everyone that planned on working on a Saturday evening that they couldn’t. Something about buffing the floors or tenting for fumigation. But really, Louis was going to marry them as a recently registered online-ordained clerk. They were getting married in Harry’s office because that’s where she told Harry she loved him for the first time. She walked the short distance from the door to where Louis and Harry had moved his desk to the side so they could get married in the setting sunlight. There were a few bouquets of flowers that Harry thought would match the theme of their other wedding in a couple short months.

She held a similar bouquet in her hands. Harry thought she looked like an ancient goddess of sunlight and flowers. Her dress was A-line in structure. A plunging neckline with intricate floral lace on the bodice without any sparkle. The floral lace faded into the flowy skirt and against the setting sun, she looked golden against the pure white dress. She was the most precious thing he had ever seen. She was completely right; he was desperate to see her in this dress. Waiting another few months would have been sinful.

“Hi,” Harry smiled as she stood in front of him.

“Hi,” she giggled. “It doesn’t fit right because it still needs to be altered,” she told him and showed off the back that had a similar plunging neckline but against her back. “I stole all our chip clips,” she smiled excitedly. Harry laughed and shaking his head at her and her adorable antics. “And I won’t have my hair like this.”

Harry hadn’t even noticed that she had her hair down naturally as she always wore it. Her makeup was the same as he saw it each day. Yet somehow it was even more beautiful. “I think y’should,” he murmured.

“Oh?” She smiled. Nodding he scanned her up and down unable to believe she was all his. In a few moments she would be his wife for the rest of their lives and beyond. “You look perfect,” she assured him. Harry always looked handsome. He had plenty of suits due to his job, but there was one he had gotten shortly after getting engaged. He never told her but as she scanned the suit, it fit better than all his other ones, it seemed she realized he got a new one just for this day. Like it was made to be on him and look so perfect on him for this moment.

“Are you ready?” Louis asked quietly. It was their evening, and he didn’t want to spoil it or rush it. But Louis also knew that Harry would spend hours ogling her if he let him.

They both nodded eagerly.

Louis went through the basics, the things that were said at every wedding but they were staring at each other, Harry holding her left hand in both of his while her other hand held her bouquet. “Do you want to do your vows now?” Louis asked.

“I forgot mine,” she admitted.

He shrugged. “They don’t have to be the ones we wrote,” he offered.

She took a deep breath. “Okay, Louis, I’m sorry,” she smiled. He winked at her and she turned her gaze back to Harry. “They’re not going to make any sense if I say them off the top of my head,” she warned.

“S’okay,” he assured her. “M’gonna love you no matter what.”

With another deep breath she started. “I’ve been so lucky to know you since we were kids. Thinking back on it, I’m sure I’ve loved you since we were in college. Having our lives intertwined so obviously seems like fate, in hindsight. But I wouldn’t trade a day of our relationship and every path and twist and hiccup it led us to for anything. There are days where I truly don’t want to do anything but be your wife and just...bask in how perfect it is. I lose all sense of identity and it’s not a bad thing. I am so in love with you it makes me,” she sighed, shaking her head, keeping her gaze on his green eyes that looked golden in the sunlight. “I am so happy to marry you. It might be the best thing I’ve ever done. You make me a better person, you make me happy, you make me feel safe,” she blinked away briefly and laughed. “I didn’t...” she sniffled as she thought of the night that Harry was there to save her and kickstart their romantic relationship. Despite how scared she was at the time; she would be forever grateful for Harry finding her and keeping her safe. Always. “Oops,” she swiped at her cheek and Harry chuckled.

“S’okay,” he promised. She sniffled again, a tear rolling down her cheek.

“I think if I admitted it to myself, I always had a crush on you. Ever since we were young,” he reached for that tear and wiped it away. “You make sure I have medicine when I don’t feel well, and you always make sure I eat. You dance with me in the kitchen, and you don’t mind that I’ve been in pajamas for two days on the weekend. You make me feel like the most beautiful girl in the world,” she paused briefly and squeezed his hand like it was part of the promise she was whispering to him (and Louis). “I’m going to have a crush on you for the rest of our lives and I’m so happy we’re here and I love you very much. I always will. And I will always do everything I can to make you happy.”

Louis looked at Harry pointedly. “I can’t wait to hear what she has to say when she has prep time,” Louis smirked.

Harry rolled his eyes as she giggled, which just made his heart feel warmer than he ever thought possible.

He squeezed her hand. “I feel like I’ve said m’vows a hundred times t’you now. When I told you I loved you for the first time, right here. Then when I proposed. M’going to love you with everything in me. Every single day. M’gonna love you more every day. Somehow. I’ll figure it out, I promise,” he smirked making her giggle. “You mean everything t’me,” he promised. “I don’t care ‘bout money, houses, billable hours, or contracts. The second I think of you, it all goes away. You are my entire world. You make me so happy. Even when I don’t want t’be happy. Y’work tremendously hard t’make our lives easier and happier. T’make me happier. No one has ever done that for me before,” he explained. “I admire you more than anyone on this earth,” her eyes welled with tears again.

“M’going to love you and cherish you and take care of you for as long as we live and then wherever this afterlife takes us,” it truly sounded like a vow. “I want this to be the last time you cry, but seems a bit unrealistic,” he chuckled and wiped at her tears again as she giggled tearily through the words. “M'never going t’be responsible for your sadness, kitten. I promise. M’always going t’be responsible for making y’happy. When y’need me, m’going t’be there. Always. I love you more and more every second and I wish I figured it out sooner than I did,” the only nod to the rough start they had in ages. “But m’glad I figured it out now. Glad I get t’see you in this beautiful dress and hear y’tell me that m’worth it,” he whispered.

“You are,” she mouthed unable to speak.

“I love you,” he repeated. “Forever, and ever.”

Louis cleared his throat awkwardly and shook his head. “Didn’t know you could do that,” he muttered and pinched at the corner of his eyes. She laughed tearily, still but Harry couldn’t help but smile. Louis spoke again, more logistics and legalities. Terms and conditions the pair of them were used to hearing.

Harry was certain he said “I do, I do, I do,” about a hundred times when Louis asked making him and his beautiful girl laugh again.

“And do you take Harry Styles to be your husband?” Louis asked.

Her eyebrows pinched together as she looked at the most perfect man she had ever met. She tilted her head at him. “Are you holding your breath?” She whispered.

“Please say ‘I do,’” he mumbled but he was definitely holding his breath.

She giggled. “I do,” she rolled her eyes. “You idiot.”

“Thank you,” he sighed with relief.

Louis snorted. “Just kiss her already,” he chuckled.

Harry dipped her as if they were dancing in the kitchen at home. His hand unclipping one of the chip clips holding her dress in place. She giggled as his lips sealed over hers. “Congratulations, Mrs. Styles,” he murmured against her mouth when he pulled away slightly.

Louis chuckled, grabbing the clip, and heading for the door to sign the marriage certificate.

She kissed him again, the flowers falling to the floor, and she held his face in both her hands. “I love you, Mr. Styles,” she smiled. She looked so beautiful; it made Harry’s heart ache.

“This was an amazing idea, kitten,” he told her standing her upright, and kissing her again.

“I have those every now and then,” she tucked her face into his chest. Another clip fell off her back.

He laughed and kissed her forehead. “Better get y’home so y’don’t flash Louis on our way out,” he suggested.

She smiled. “Well...I actually brought a change of clothes,” she assured him. “And I may have told Louis to leave the floor locked and leave,” she bit the inside of her lip.

Harry felt warm all over. “Oh?” One of his eyebrows quirked up. His expression hooded as he looked her over.

“I think you got a good view of my dress for now, right? You can wait till spring?” She asked, pulling the last two bag clips off the back of her dress. Without them holding it in place, it draped differently on her body making it fall haphazardly around her torso, dangerously close to revealing some of Harry's favorite physical features of hers.

“I’d like to view it on the floor,” his voice was low and hungry in tone as he scanned her.

She smiled. Turning around, she showed off her zipper. "Unzip me."

--

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[here-for-a-good-time-hopefully]

Remus as a lawyer

Remus (being interviewed): So my techniques and my methods might be a bit old fashioned

*cut to Remus in court*

Remus, in a heavy welsh accent: May I approach the bitch

Judge: What did you say?

Remus: I said “May I approach the bench”

Judge: Ah

Remus, innocently: What did you think I said?

[dream-with-a-fever]

i am a ron weasley defender first and foremost, then a human being

[placeboelysium]

I was drawing Kim and Harry for like 10 seconds and then suddenly women were on my screen

Edit: oh yeah Ruby was shirtless originally but I made her MORE DECENT! 😤

Not superrr satisfied with them but they were doodles I tried to force into a finished product

[left to right top to bottom: Soona Luukanen-Kilde , Elizabeth Beaufort, Ruby the Instigator, Klaasje Amandou]

Harry and Kim WIPs below: