the witch next door [zarry] ✔️

xii

Zain dreams of the witch that night, the moon illuminating him, his hair falling around his shoulders. The witch smiles down at him and it's hot and intense and strangely blurry, like there's a veil separating them. Zain wakes up shaking and aroused, feeling like he hasn't in years, desperately reaching for a dream.

He tries to keep Safaa distracted through the day, taking her to the market and making her help with cooking enough food for the whole week and then starts on the garden. He doesn't think he can face the witch today, not when it still feels like Harry's hands are on his skin and when the ghost of Harry's breath is still tingling his lips.

In the end, he gives in to Safaa's begging. He can't say no to her, never really could, especially not when the only reason he can think of is: I had a dirty dream about him and now I won't be able to look at him without embarrassing myself.

"I hope he teaches me another potion," Safaa says happily, skipping alongside Zain, her wellies clashing horribly with her skirt. "I want all the boys to get awful spots!"

"Vicious," Zain answers, distracted. At least the weather is uncomfortably cool so Harry will hopefully be dressed properly.

"They deserve it," Safaa says mercilessly, pushing open the gate to Harry's garden. "Aww, look at them!" She exclaims, pointing at Niall and Louis who are lying down on the front step.

Niall doesn't wake as they approach but Louis lifts his head, looking at Zain intensely. Zain glares back, feeling uncomfortably judged.

Safaa crouches down by them, stroking Louis under the chin and making him purr, eyes closed in contentment.

"Hi!" Harry greets them, pulling the door open and beaming at them. Zain quickly focussed back on Safaa, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks. "I thought you wouldn't come at all today."

"Zain decided to be productive today," Safaa answers scornfully, picking up Niall and cradling him against her chest. "Can you teach me how to give boys spots? The really awful kind?"

"Sure," Harry answers easily, like he has nothing better to do than help Safaa with her petty revenge.

"But that potion takes a while. We'd better start early tomorrow," Harry continues, picking up Louis and dangling him from his hand, looking at him for a moment. Louis flicks his tail in annoyance until Harry sets him back down, walking away with a hiss, every fibre of his body screaming displeasure. Harry watches him go, frowning.

"But I baked cake. You can come in and have a piece." He smiles at Zain.

Zain smiles back automatically, his cheeks burning at the memory of his dream, of the way Harry had sounded, moving above him.

"Yes, please," Safaa decides, pushing past Harry into the house in a manner not dissimilar to Louis's gait.

Zain has to grin after her, meeting Harry's gaze in amusement. Harry is still looking at Zain, slow to turn his gaze away, lingering on Zain's mouth.

Zain licks his lips in response, half caught between arousal and wondering if he's got lunch stuck between his teeth.

Harry smiles, the corners of his mouth slowly turning up, looking deeply satisfied.

"Did you have a good dream last night?" he asks lowly, taking a step towards Zain and touching Zain's belly with his fingertips.

"What?" Zain croaks, his voice abruptly breaking. Surely, witches couldn't actually read minds. That was a myth, like the things people said about them eating men.

"Did you have a good dream?" Harry asks again, barely audible if he weren't leaning into Zain's space, his breath brushing against Zain's lips.

"Sure," Zain says, clearing his throat. He was not going to tell Harry about it, but he also wasn't gonna lie, just in case the witch actually could read thoughts. "It was alright."

"Alright," Harry laughs, pressing his lips to Zain's in a soft kiss, almost chaste if not for the dream in Zain's head. Memories of wet, plump lips sliding against his, pleasure coursing through him as Harry rocked above him.

Harry's eyes sparkle when he pulls back, mirth seeming to dance around him like mist. "You expect a lot from your dreams, do you?"

"Well, they're my dreams, aren't they?" Zain answers, his head reeling. At least his mouth seems to finally remember how to talk. "They should be breathtaking and unparalleled."

"I'll try my best the next time you pull me into them," Harry laughs, pressing his lips to Zain's again. "Come on. The cake turned out excellent. Almost good enough for one of your dreams."

Zain follows him dumbly into the cottage, trying to figure out if Harry was teasing when he'd blamed Zain for that dream. If he was teasing when he made it sound like it had been more than a dream. Perhaps he was evil after all, and using his powers to drive Zain insane by pretending to — Zain wasn't sure what. But he hadn't actually pulled Harry into his dreams, surely.

There is a tiny spark of hope on his belly, though. Because Harry had not seemed upset about any of it. In fact, perhaps. Perhaps that dream was likely to become reality. And then.

He watches Harry pull a grimace at Safaa, making her giggle and quickly distracts himself by meeting Louis's disapproving gaze.

🌿

Lol idk