#bf!harry

"you did what?" YN laughed, her fingers coated in the smooth, familiar feel of one of harry's leave-in conditioners as she worked it into his damp curls, gently coaxing through knots and tangles that told stories of long nights and late shows.

harry sat on on leg while the other hung lazily off her bed, shirtless, his skin glistening faintly under the dim dorm lights, still cool and damp from his shower. a well-worn towel hung low on his hips, clinging to him in soft folds, and he twisted the silver ring on his index finger, flashing that crooked, boyish grin that still managed to make her heart skip.

"yes—water," he said, a hint of pride in his voice as he looked up at her through dark lashes. "poured it right into the crowd. they went mental."

she chuckled, focusing on a particularly stubborn knot as his head tipped back, giving her a better angle. "do i even want to know why you did that?"

"beer," he replied simply, with a lazy shrug and a mischievous glint in his eye. he shifted, turning to face her fully, the mattress giving a soft creak under his weight as he adjusted. "they were flinging beer at me, so i figured it was fair game. bit of payback," he said with a smirk, his voice deepening in that low, conspiratorial way that she adored.

her lips tugged into a soft smile as she leaned in, her eyes tracing the ink on his skin, pausing over the small mermaid tail curling near his elbow. she felt the room go still for a beat, her fingers just barely grazing his tattooed arm. "tell me more?" she murmured, barely above a whisper.

but instead of answering, he caught her hand in his own, his thumb brushing over her knuckles as he brought her palm up, pressing it gently against the warm, bare skin just below his left breastbone. his expression softened, and his voice dipped, tender and a little unsteady. "was thinking–right here. your initial." his gaze searched hers, a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes that made her heart skip, lingering between them in a way that left her breathless.

a small, breathy laugh escaped her as she drew her hand back, fingers trailing down his chest as she settled back on the bed, her heart fluttering with that same familiar warmth that only he could draw out of her. "about the show, styles," she chided, though her cheeks had warmed at the idea. it was all she could do to keep her voice steady, even as that look in his eyes held her captive, that glimmer of something deeper, something unspoken.

with a lazy grin, he slumped back on her bed, folding his arms behind his head as if he owned every inch of this tiny dorm room. he was still her harry—the one who'd lean against her door at ungodly hours after a gig, smelling faintly of stale smoke and beer, his voice barely a murmur as he recounted the night's little victories and mishaps. but there was something else in his eyes tonight, an edge softened by the dim light, his hand inching toward hers, fingers grazing against hers.

he gave her a dramatic sigh, pretending to be exasperated, but she could see the way his eyes lit up, the pride he tried to hide. "alright, picture this—tiny, cramped stage, lights barely working, and a crowd that's already three drinks too deep."

she chuckled, already seeing it. "sounds like your crowd."

"my exact type.” he hummed, eyes glimmering. "i was halfway through kiwi when this guy in the front row starts singing louder than me. like, absolutely shouting every word—more like repeating guess, i don’t think he knew the lyrics—didn't care if he was off-key or not."

"oh no," she gasped, theatrics, biting back a grin. "how did you handle that?"

"well, first i tried to ignore him. y'know, be professional and all." he raised his chin, like he was already picturing himself on a real stage. "but then he threw his beer in the air, and half of it hit me, so i thought, why not join him?"

she felt the words settle over her, a quiet intimacy that wrapped around them, thick and warm. she let herself lean into him, their knees brushing, her hand finding his and lacing their fingers together. here, in this cocoon of her dimly lit dorm room, the outside world faded. it was just him-her’s, with his rough edges, inked skin, and soulful eyes that held a thousand unspoken promises.

"so," she murmured, her thumb tracing slow circles over his knuckles, "it was a good show then?"

a soft laugh escaped his lips, his eyes dancing as he looked at her. "good? better than good, baby." he said, a certain fire in his voice as he recalled the night. "place was packed-should've seen it. they might've only been there for the drink deals, but by the time we hit the first chorus, they were in it." he paused, a flicker of excitement lighting up his face as he leaned closer. "even had this one bloke shouting for an encore, practically begged us not t’leave."

she could see the pride, the kind that was so uniquely his—modest, but bursting at the seams, a quiet confidence that only she got to witness in moments like this. her heart swelled, and she squeezed his hand. "sounds like a big deal," she teased, her voice softening as she held his gaze. "next thing i know, you'll be playing to actual crowds, not just randoms at pubs."

"don't tease me," he chuckled, nudging her gently with his shoulder. "could happen. could be my big break, y'know? today, it's a back alley pub with sticky floors—tomorrow, a real venue." he looked at her, his expression shifting from playful to something quieter, almost vulnerable. "maybe even a place you'd be proud to be seen at."

she shook her head, her voice barely above a whisper. "h, i'm already proud of you." and she meant it—down to the core of her. there was a strength in his persistence, his dreams kept alive by late nights and small crowds, his music spilling into the shadows of empty bars and dim lights. it was the kind of resilience most people never understood, but it was something she loved about him, something that made him feel like home.

his hand shifted, cupping her face gently, his thumb brushing over her cheek as he searched her eyes. "how'd i get so lucky, yeah?" he murmured, almost as if to himself. he looked at her like he was seeing her for the first time, the weight of the night lingering between them, the quiet promise of everything they'd built together.

she tilted her face into his touch, eyes fluttering closed as she breathed him in-the faint smell of his shampoo, mingling with the scent of rain from outside and something warm, something distinctly him. her hand found his chest, fingertips resting over the steady beat of his heart.

"can i stay tonight?" he asked softly, his voice a low murmur against the backdrop of their shared silence.

she nodded, her lips brushing over his knuckles as she squeezed his hand. "wouldn't want you anywhere else."

with that, he leaned forward, capturing her lips in a kiss that felt like a thousand words, soft and slow, as if they had all the time in the world. harry's hand slid from her cheek down to her neck, his fingertips tracing a delicate line along her collarbone, sending a soft shiver through her. the playful glint in his eye had shifted, replaced by something deeper, a heat she felt all the way down to her toes. he inched closer, the rough rasp of his stubble brushing her jaw as his lips found the soft skin just below her ear.

"you're staring," she murmured, voice low, a smile on her lips as her fingers traced along his shoulder, her touch grazing the edge of his tattoo.

"can't help it." he whispered, his voice low and rough, leaving no question about what he wanted. his fingers trailed down her back, pulling her just a little closer as his towel slipped dangerously low on his hips, clinging to him in a way that left little to the imagination. "s'not every day i get my girl all to myself, undistracted." his fingers slipped just beneath the hem of her shirt, his thumb stroking slow, lazy circles along her hipbone, sending a faint shiver up her spine.

she felt herself melting into him, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw before wandering down to rest on his chest. his skin was warm, firm beneath her touch, and she felt the steady beat of his heart thrumming under her fingertips. just for a moment, she let herself get lost in it-the way his hands roamed, slow and sure, his lips brushing her neck, her jaw, her shoulder, each kiss igniting a trail of warmth.

but as his hands started to wander lower, his towel barely hanging on, she bit back a smile and placed her hand flat on his abdomen, feeling the firm, taut muscles tense under her touch. she let her fingers linger for a moment before giving him a light flick, snapping him out of the haze that had taken over.

he kissed his teeth, head snapping up, a shocked, slightly betrayed expression crossing his face as he met her gaze. she smirked, letting her eyes trail up and down him with a playful glint before meeting his eyes, her voice light and teasing.

"don't get too excited, styles. i've got an essay to write, remember?"

he blinked, looking adorably lost for a second, then let out a groan, throwing himself back on the bed in dramatic defeat, one arm flung over his face. "an essay, bunny? now?" he peeked at her from under his arm, a playful pout tugging at his lips. "you're really gonna make me lie here in agony while you write about... what? politics? shakespeare?"

"modern lit," she corrected, grabbing her laptop from the bedside table with a grin. she settled beside him, nudging his leg with her knee as he sighed in exaggerated frustration. "i'll make it up to you," she added, her voice sweet but her expression mischievous.

"is that right?" he asked, raising a brow, his mood instantly lightening as he leaned up on one elbow to watch her type. "what kind of 'make it up' are we talking, then?"

she rolled her eyes, though her smile softened.

"you're ridiculous, you know that?"

“mm-hm, i know,” he chuckled, unbothered. he kept his eyes trained on her as she adjusted the computer in her lap, fingers flying across the keys as she tried to ignore his gaze.

but she could already feel his fingers tracing idle patterns along her thigh, his head resting on her shoulder as he sighed dramatically, determined to make her work for it. “fine,” he murmured, pressing a quick kiss to her shoulder, knowing she wasn’t going to let up. “but don’t say i didn’t warn you when i’m too tortured to focus on my next gig.”

she shook her head, grinning. “i think you’ll survive.” and despite his protests, she felt him settle beside her, his hand wrapped loosely around hers as he waited, patient and easy, for the essay to be done—and for the night to be theirs again.

after a few more minutes of him sighing and shifting beside her, nudging her leg with his knee, or letting his fingers brush distractingly over her shoulder, she finally gave him a pointed look. “lovey, come on. at least put some pants on,” she said, biting back a laugh as he gazed up at her with an exaggerated look of betrayal.

“y’sure baby?” he mumbled, the corners of his mouth tugging into a cheeky grin as he adjusted the towel around his waist, letting it dip low enough to reveal the line of his hip bones. he leaned in close, his face just inches from hers. “last chance to give up on that essay.”

she rolled her eyes, shoving him lightly as she tried to suppress a smile. “h. pants. now.”

he sighed dramatically, rolling off the bed and muttering under his breath as he crossed the room, as if she’d asked him to do something outrageous. “you’re cruel, you know that?” he grumbled, pulling on a pair of briefs, followed by his well-worn grey sweatpants. he shot her a mock glare as he snapped the waistband into place. “i hope that essay’s worth it,” he teased, flopping back down on the bed with another exaggerated groan.

but he couldn’t keep up the act for long. settling beside her, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her snug against him as he leaned over her, his gaze shifting to the screen of her laptop. she felt him press a quick kiss to the side of her head, and then he tilted his head curiously, reading the words on her screen. “alright, genius. what’re we working on?”

she grinned, knowing his curiosity was genuine—harry was the only person who ever asked about her classes, who remembered the details of her projects, who even stayed up late to help her brainstorm ideas when she got stuck. “it’s for my modern lit paper,” she said, turning the laptop slightly so he could see the opening lines. “i’m writing about identity in contemporary poetry.”

his brow furrowed, and he gave a thoughtful hum. “identity, huh?” his fingers started playing with a strand of her hair, twisting it absently as he thought. it still smelt like her lavender shampoo. “so, like–how people see themselves? or how they think they should be seen?”

she nodded, feeling a warm flutter in her chest at the way he genuinely tried to understand. “yeah, lovey, exactly. it’s about how people present different versions of themselves, depending on the world around them. how sometimes people feel like they have to hide who they really are, or adapt, to fit in.”

he was quiet for a moment, his eyes thoughtful as he took that in, a small crease forming between his brows. “guess i know a bit about that,” he murmured, almost to himself, then gave her a soft smile. “makes sense, though. we’re all trying t’figure it out, right?”

she looked at him, her heart swelling at the way he always found a way to connect with her world, to show up and care. he wasn’t just the guy who played guitar in pubs and poured water over the crowd—he was thoughtful and reflective, her safe place and her biggest support. she reached out, brushing a stray curl away from his forehead, her gaze softening.

he met her eyes, a small smile tugging at his lips as he watched her type a few lines, completely relaxed against her side. “y’really like this stuff, don’t you?”

she nodded, feeling her cheeks warm. “i do. and i like that you care enough to ask.”

he grinned, his hand resting over hers on the keyboard. “wouldn’t miss it, bunny. i want to know it all. even the boring bits,” he teased, pressing another kiss to her temple. “so… what’s next? how do y’wrap this thing up?”

as she dove into her explanation, she felt him settle in closer, his head resting on her shoulder, eyes flicking back and forth between her face and the screen. and even though he’d begun the night wrapped in little more than that towel and mischief, there was something about the way he lay beside her now—calm, engaged, just there for her.

after a while, she tried to concentrate on the closing argument of her essay, but harry’s hand found a lock of her hair again, twirling it lazily around his finger, his touch warm and gentle. every so often, he’d place a quick, messy kiss on her cheek, or the side of her head, each one more dramatic than the last, until she couldn’t help but huff out a laugh, nudging him back.

“alright, enough with the distractions,” she muttered, shooting him a mock-stern look as he grinned back, clearly pleased with himself.

but he was relentless. when she referenced another poet, he piped up, a mischievous look in his eyes. “ah, yes, that guy,” he said, tone teasing as he tapped his chin as though he were deep in thought. “big fan. wrote that one poem about… feeling feelings, right?”

she rolled her eyes, biting back a laugh. “harry, i’m serious.”

“hey, i am too!” he replied, the grin on his face only widening. “poetry’s got layers, YN. all about emotions and metaphors.” he lifted an eyebrow, giving her a wink that made her want to laugh and push him off the bed all at once.

she groaned, turning back to her screen, though the smile tugging at her lips gave her away. despite his teasing, she knew he respected her work and thought she was smart, even if he pretended to be clueless just to get a rise out of her.

a few minutes passed, and she found herself stuck, her fingers hovering over the keyboard as she struggled to find the right words to tie everything together. she could feel harry’s gaze on her, his eyes flicking between her face and the screen, and right then, her stomach gave a loud, unmistakable growl.

harry’s eyebrows shot up, and a playful, knowing smirk crossed his face. “oh, is that how it is, then?” he said, nudging her gently. “i’m over here pouring my heart and soul into supporting you, and you’re starving yourself for art.”

she laughed, rolling her eyes as she tried to wave him off. “it’s fine, i just need to—”

but he was already halfway across the room, grabbing his phone with a sense of purpose, tapping away with single-minded determination. “nope, not happening. i’m ordering us food. you’re no good to me fainting on the job,” he teased, tossing her a grin as he started scrolling through options on doordash.

she watched him, warmth blooming in her chest at the sight of his focused expression as he debated between a few late-night favorites. his finger paused on the screen, and he shot her a look over his shoulder. “what are we feeling? i know goodfella’s is open late.”

she hummed, folding her arms and pretending to think. “their pizza sounds good.”

“perfect. what kind?” he asked, giving her that soft, endearing look that always managed to make her heart skip.

“surprise me,” she said, her eyes crinkling with a smile as he turned back to his phone, murmuring thoughtfully to himself as he made his selections.

once he’d ordered, he slid back beside her, his arm slipping around her shoulders, pulling her close as he planted a quick kiss on her forehead. “alright, aristotle. you’ve got about twenty minutes to wrap this up before the pizza gets here.”

she grinned, feeling a rush of renewed energy as she settled back into her laptop, his warmth beside her and the promise of food on the way. and as she typed out her final thoughts, she felt his hand come up to her hair again, his fingers working through her locks in a gentle rhythm as he leaned his chin on her shoulder, watching her with a soft smile.

“think you’re about to blow the rest of the class outta the water.” he muttered, his voice low and genuine, cutting through the playful teasing of earlier.

she paused, glancing over at him, her cheeks warming under his gaze. “you think so?”

he nodded, brushing his nose gently against her cheek. “definitely. i knew you were brilliant the first time i met you. just, you know, don’t forget me when you’re off being some lit professor with a fancy office and your own bookshelf in every bookstore.”

she laughed, shaking her head. “you’ll be playing stadiums by then, styles. i think you’ll be just fine.”

once harry met the driver outside of the dorm and made his way back up the stairwell to the second floor of her building, they sat cross-legged on the bed, the pizza box open between them, warm and smelling faintly of melted cheese and marinara. YN took a bite, savoring the comfort of it as they eased into the rhythm of their usual conversations. she told him stories about her classes—about the professor who insisted everyone call him by his first name and the girl who always argued with the readings in ways that both amused and baffled her. he listened intently, his eyes focused on her like she was the most fascinating person in the world, laughing at all the right moments, nodding as if every small detail mattered. and for harry, it did.

soon enough, the conversation shifted, and he told her stories from his recent gigs—how the second-to-last venue had practically been held together with duct tape, how he’d overheard some guy loudly claim he could “totally play guitar better than that dude.” she laughed at the way he imitated the voice, rolling his eyes in good-natured frustration. “seriously,” he groaned, grinning through a bite of pizza, “the heckling never stops, even when you’re playing to like, fifteen people.”

she nudged him with her knee, a smirk tugging at her lips. “just you wait, one day those fifteen people are going to turn into fifteen thousand, and that guy will still be standing there with his pint, going on about how he should be the one on stage.”

harry’s face softened, his gaze lingering on her. “you’re just saying that because you’re in love with me.”

“maybe,” she said with a wink, brushing a crumb off his cheek.

they fell into their easy banter, and soon enough, poetry came back up. she was telling him about one of the poets she was analyzing, the language they used and the intricate metaphors she was supposed to decipher, when harry raised a brow, an amused look crossing his face. “you’re talking like i don’t write poetry myself, you know.”

“oh, really?” she teased, leaning back with her arms folded, a skeptical look on her face. “let’s hear it, shakespeare.”

with a grin, he pulled out his phone, scrolling through his notes until he stopped on something, looking a bit sheepish but handing it over to her with a small smile. “here. latest masterpiece.” he joked with a shrug, though he seemed a bit nervous. “study it in your lit classes ‘n all that.”

she took his phone, her heart skipping a beat as she saw the title: adore you. her chest warmed as she started reading through the words. it wasn’t like the love poems she read for lectures, full of flowery language and convoluted metaphors. no, this was simple, but sincere—lines that felt raw, real, and vulnerable in a way that only he could make them. each line felt like a glimpse into him, into the parts of himself that he shared only with her, the quiet moments, the late nights, the laughter and gentle touches that only they knew.

when she finished, she looked up at him, unable to hide the wide smile spreading across her face. “harry, this is—you’re so cute.” she said, her voice soft with genuine awe. “forget those old poets i read about. they’ve got nothing on you.” she squeezed his hand, her thumb brushing over his knuckles as she looked back down at the lyrics, rereading her favorite lines.

a blush crept up his cheeks, and he gave a little shrug, pretending to brush off her praise, but she could see the way his eyes shone, how much her words really meant to him. he nudged her playfully, leaning in with a grin. “you know it’s about you, yeah?”

she felt her heart flutter, her smile growing even wider as she met his gaze. “is it now?”

“obviously,” he chuckled, shaking his head as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “i mean, who else am i going to write about? you’re the one i can’t stop thinking about. the one who makes every line worth writing.”

she felt warmth bloom in her chest, reaching out to lace her fingers with his. “well,” she said softly, “then i think i’m the luckiest girl alive.”

he squeezed her hand, his expression softening as he leaned in, his forehead resting gently against hers. for a moment, they stayed like that, their hands intertwined, the world outside her tiny dorm room slipping away. it was just him, his steady heartbeat under her palm, his soft gaze that held a world of promises, and the quiet knowledge that he’d put it all into words just for her.

“so, poetry and pizza,” he murmured, his lips curving into a contented smile as he leaned back, pulling her into his chest. “didn’t think my night could get any better.”

“oh, really?” she teased, settling against him, her head resting just under his chin. “not even if i let you watch me struggle through the rest of my essay?”

“thrilling stuff,” he joked, his hand trailing gentle patterns along her arm. “actually, it’s all kind of perfect, YN. you, me, pizza, some poetry… maybe the start of a terrible song i’ll write when i can’t sleep tonight.”

“a song about pizza and poetry?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“why not?” he grinned, his eyes sparkling. “everyone needs a little inspiration, hm?”

she laughed, and the sound seemed to brighten the whole room, making everything feel light and carefree. “i’d listen to it.”

“i’ll dedicate it to you,” he replied, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head, his voice softening. “after all, you’re my favorite muse.”

they sat like that for a while, the remnants of their pizza scattered around them, the warmth of his arms wrapped around her. she felt her eyes growing heavy, lulled by the steady rise and fall of his chest, the soothing hum of his voice as he mumbled quiet words of nonsense, half-asleep, just for her.

“hey,” she whispered after a while, her voice soft, almost a breath. “thank you for being here. for everything.”

Sitting in the stands of the game you couldn't help but feel some type of worry at the way Fred and George Weasley were eyeing Theo. Holding your breath, you watched him catch the quaffle before throwing it past Oliver and into the hoop. If you asked anyone about how good of a quidditch player he was, they would tell you that he was on the watchlist to go play pro. It wasn't just how good his skillset was, it was his energy when he played. He made it a show for anyone who watched, however if you were to see him in school or out of quidditch you would think he was emotionless.

However, with you, it was different. Theo was kind and sweet, always giving you some type of emotion. Along with that he was always studying or helping you with charms, something you struggled with constantly. And on a deeper level though, Theo was really always there for you and you, him. You and Theo had grown up together due to you being from a pureblood family. You both stuck together through everything, family fights, meetings, deaths. You were together through all of it.

Once you got to Hogwarts it was a bit different. He was sorted into Slytherin and you Ravenclaw, but that didn't separate you. It really only made your bond stronger, the fact that you weren't with each other the entire day or in every class together made you want to be with each other more.

But then again there was one more change. You began dating, so did Theo of course but none of his girlfriend's ever stayed longer than a month, you however have been with your boyfriend, Harry Potter for about 2 years. And with Harry being the chosen one, Theo disliked him more.

Of course, Harry wanted you all to himself, but you couldn't do that to Theo. Which is why when Harry asked you to where one of his jerseys to the match today you had to politely decline because you weren't just there for him. You were there to watch Theo as well, as much as Harry hated that he slightly understood as he knew the bond you had with the Slytherin boy was truly like no other.

And just as your eyes left Theo, to find Harry who was battling Draco for the snitch everyone gasped. Head snapping back up to find Theo after hearing the gasp you prayed it wasn't him but when you found his body caught on a bludger and heading for the ground you gasped as well. His body hit the ground with a thud that was heard throughout the stadium you let out a small scream. Moving to the front of the stands, your hands gripped the railing as you leaned over to look at the unconscious boy.

Quickly your body oved away from the railing and towards the ground as the match was put on a pause, Madam Pomfrey and Hooch running out to where he laid. However, before you could get down to him professors had already began to transport him to the medical hall. Catching up with them quickly, your feet moved fast as you walked side-by-side with Madam Pomfrey.

"Oh, my dear, I was just about to ask for someone to go fetch you." She spoke giving you a side glance before facing forward once more.

"Oh!" You spoke shocked, glad but confused. "I'm glad, but why is that, if you don't mind me asking."

"You are Mr. Nott's emergency contact. Did you not know." She spoke, but you didn't answer as her sentence rang through your head.

'He put me as his emergency contact?' You thought, your heart melting at this new information.

As they placed his body down carefully onto the cot, you stood to the side watching as Madam Pomfrey cut his jersey down the middle, causing you to once again gasp.

His entire abdomen was bruised, blue and purple. Your hand lifted to cover your mouth in shock as your eyes looked over the bruises before looking at his face. Even in sleep his face held a pained expression.

"He should be up in a few hours dear, so do not worry. You can sit here while you wait but do make sure you get dinner." She nodded to you, before walking away to do whatever else she needed to do.

Looking at Theo you had to take a deep breath to calm yourself as you grabbed his hand and placed soft kiss on it. "Oh Theo." You muttered to him; his upper body was wrapped in bandages as he had suffered from a few broken ribs leaving him out of Quidditch for a few weeks as they needed to heal.

Before you knew it, it got dark, and you grew tired. Still holding his hand, your head softly leaned down till your body was folded in half and your head laid on his thigh.

It was 2am when Theo finally woke up. His body hurt and ached everywhere as the memory of what happened ran through his mind, however the only thing he could think of was where you were. And much to his surprise there you were. Laying still on his thigh, hand holding his.

"Ava?" you called out and she came flying out of the kitchen, her babysitter right behind her.

"Hi, YN! Ava was an angel." she told you and you smiled, catching sight of Harry who was hidden in your foyer. Although Ava's babysitter was elderly, he didn't want to risk being recognized.

"That's amazing. And thanks again, Mrs. Johnson."

"No problem. Have an amazing night."

"You, too." you smiled as she went out of the side door she usually used to avoid steps. "Ava, remember when I said that I had a surprise for you?"

"Is it ice cream?" the four-year-old squealed and you chuckled.

"No, it's, um, that special person I was telling you about. Remember Harry?" you grew nervous at the mention of his name to her.

You didn't keep her in the dark about it, any time he was on the phone or you went out with him, you were honest. She'd also seen pictures, but she never interacted with him.

"Uh huh."

"Well, I bought him to meet you. Is that okay, bunny?"

"Yeah! Where is he?"

As if on cue, Harry walked out with a kind smile. He had a tiny bouquet in his hand that he held out to her as you set her on the couch and stood next to Harry.

"Hi, Harry!" she greeted, and Harry smiled brightly.

"Hi, Ava. I got these for you."

She took them and told him thank you, but not without adding on her own charm. "Will these make me sneeze?"

"Your mum didn't tell me you were allergic." he looked at you skeptically and you immediately knew what she was referencing.

"No, Ava, they won't." you jumped in and she cocked her head.

"Your flowers made my mama sneeze. Really loud and all day long."

"I didn't know about that." you pinched your eyes shut and Harry laughed. "I think these are okay, though."

"You're nice, Harry, but you talk a little funny."

"Ava!" you scolded gently and she shrugged her shoulders.

"Like Paddington."

Harry laughed even louder and sat down on the coffee table in front of her. "Would you rather me talk like this?" he mocked and American accent and you both giggled.

"No!"

"Why can't I?"

"It's a fake voice!" she slapped her thighs and squealed out in laughter. "You have to talk like this." she did her best at an English accent which made you laugh and finally relax.

Harry shook his head and turned to look up at you. "She's got an amazing personality. It's huge."

"No parent takes that as a compliment." you murmured, laughing and forgetting slightly that Ava was watching. Harry took your hand and kissed it softly.

"Harry?" Ava beckoned his attention with a much more thoughtful experience.

"Yes?'"

"Do you like my mama a lot?"

"Yes, I do." he glanced at you to smile before looking at her. "I like you, too."

She nodded in satisfaction and looked at you. "Mama, I'm ready for bed now."

"Okay, I'll meet you back there, let me just get water for your pretty flowers."

Ava ran off and left without another word to Harry, leaving him with a small frown. "I'll be right back." you kissed his head and he nodded.

In a few minutes, you were setting down Ava's vase near her stuffed animals and she grinned at it before her smile fell. "Where's Harry?"

"In the living room." you answered, tidying up the shelf. "Why?"

"I want him to tell me good night, too."

You couldn't fight the smile on your face as you nodded and went to the living room. You caught Harry rolling your bouquet in his hands with concentration.

"Did these really make you sneeze?"

"There was a little pollen on them." you answered awkwardly and Harry pursed his lips. "Um, Ava wants you to say good night to her. It's okay if you don't want to do the tucking in thing, but-"

Harry jumped up and smiled, showing all of his white teeth. "Really? I'd love to. Seriously, I'd love to."

"O-okay." you were undeniably stunned by his enthusiasm as you gestured him to follow you down the hall.

Ava was watching the door as she yawned, but energy seemed to take her over upon seeing Harry. He smiled and she tucked herself in.

"Do you read her stories?" he asked, and you chuckled.

"No, I just give her a hug and kiss and say good night." you answered, rubbing his shoulder and squatting next to Ava's bed.

"Good night, Mama." she wrapped her arms around your neck as best she could and you kissed her forehead.

"Good night, Ava. Have sweet dreams."

Harry was right behind you when you stood up, ready to copy your actions. He bent down and looked her in the eyes carefully. "Good night, Ava. It was very nice to meet you, and I hope we get to hang out for a little longer sometime."

"Goodnight, Harry. I'm happy my mama likes you." she said, and Harry chuckled, turning his gaze to you standing straight and happily.

You wiped a slipping tear. Words couldn't describe the joy and relief you felt at the scene in front of you. Every moment with Harry you worried would be lost when he realized what he was signing up for led to a single moment of certainty that Harry was serious about you and Ava.

Harry smiled into Ava's hair when they hugged and you were sure you'd remember it forever. When Harry pulled away, Ava laid down with a bright smile, sharing in the comfort you felt.

When you cracked Ava's door, Harry hugged you and kissed your forehead.

"I'm sure, Y/N." he answered the unasked, yet lingering question and you nodded.

“Let’s move to bathroom then.” He attempts to tickle her awkwardly from the way she’s crammed into tiny seat and hisses when she swats his hand away mumbling while trying to catch some sleep, “Go read or summat—..” She squeaks head falling against the headrest of seat as Harry tugs the pillow away from her neck and raises it up in the air not caring if it makes him look childish “.. you!” She huffs clenching and unclenching her fists to level down the silly anger bubbling inside of her.

So she jumps onto her clever cute tactics, jutting her bottom lip out in a failed adorable manner and widens her eyes owlishly, twisting her finger atop his knee as she mumbles.

“You’re not gonna let your pregnant girlfriend have some rest?” That makes Harry roll his eyes. He shakes his head at her antics and Y/N’s nose twitches up in annoyance at his audacity when he shrugs and goes back to laying lazily.

“Baby you’re food pregnant stop manipulating your innocent man.” He mimics her expressions from prior and it almost makes her gag, her acting skills infront of him are disgustingly cringe.

“You and innocent?” She scoffs folding her arms infront of her chest in aggravation – but her tantrums are of no-use since Harry’s long gone snoring right in her fucking face, “Should’ve told a better lie...” She all but whispers to herself.

//

“You guys fought over a neck pillow?” Sarah asks Harry through a surprised giggle walking along him to their rooms floor and Harry bobs his head, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Before you say ‘you’re what five?’ Lemme tell ya, yes.” He grins. Taking a deep sigh of realization that it was his fault in the very first, if Y/N would ever need his heart he’d actually claw it out for her but neck pillow is where he draws a line.

“I want to apologise to her– but she’s such a gremlin!” He huffs a whine throwing his arms in air and Sarah salutes him opening the door to her room with her hip and disappearing inside, “Good luck with that.” Harry groans and runs his palms down his face peeking sneakily through the slit of door and finds Y/N sprawled on the twin bed with a deathly Medusa like face which means she’s ready to have battles with him.

“I know you’re here.” She quips with a tone lilt with an open threat and that makes Harry bonk his head against the door and stumble inside, “Seriously? Did you not look into bookings?” She gestures at the small one person bed and Harry squints down at her.

“If it bugs you so much, why don’t ya go to reception and book yourself another room, my highness.” Jokes aside. She’s actually his Queen.

“No need fo’ that. You could just sleep on the couch.” Y/N doesn’t meet his eyes buffing her pillows to make them puffier and Harry pouts crawling up and fitting his gangly limbs in the crampy space, “C’mon darling. I’m sorry was just being petty.” The wise-man knows that sleeping on couch after jetlag is a punishment from hell. He stares at her softly as she lays straight on her side of bed giving a silent gesture of free space beside her.

She groans. Lashes fluttering from rolling her eyes so hard when Harry flumps atop her, bending his knee and placing it over her tummy. His warm forest-y scent swirling inside her nose as he tests the waters and snuggles into her side cheekily.

“Knows that I couldn’t sleep without you by me side,” He murmurs sweetly against her neck and Y/N screams at herself not to break her facade but her cute fucking boyfriend makes it so difficult.

He loops both of his arms around her waist and a tiny noise emits from Y/N’s lips when he pulls her closer to him, pressing her to his chest and doesn’t let go how much she wiggles and whines.

“You’re a meanie.” She huffs, feeling herself melt into his cuddles and he agrees, “Yes. Thank you, insult me more.” He slushes treacly kisses all over her face and brushes his fingers up her sides mischievously to tickle her.

“Fine..” She sighs, rubbing her cheek up and down his chest gently purring as he massages her greasy scalp, “’M sorry too.” Her apology muffles into his neck as she hugs him tightly.

“I love you.” He kisses her forehead lovingly cuddling them under the big fluffy blanket, “I love you too.” She pecks his cheek with a loud sound that makes them both giggle.