greyheart; year 4↳h.potter x reader

x. just a boy

The day was a drag after Moody's class and I couldn't quite find my words for most of the day. I slowly drifted from class to class, ready to sit on the plush couch in the common room in front of the fire.

Hannah and Hermione noticed my discomfort early on and kept conversation with Harry and Ron so I wouldn't have to, thankfully.

The poor spider played over and over in my head, the looks on Neville's face, and Hermione begging not to answer the question.

Before I knew it, I was wrapped in my Weasley jumper, slowly taking the girl dormitory stairs one at a time. My footsteps were light and gentle, avoiding the stairs that loud creaked.

The common room was empty, the golden fire lit the room with ease. I wondered what enactment they kept on it as I had never seen anyone add wood in my four years here.

The couch gratefully accepting me once I sat down, my body sinking into the cushions as if I was a part of the couch itself.

The warm cast of the fire made my cheeks warm slightly, something that bought a hint of a smile across my lips.

"Hello?"

My body jerked, looking over my shoulder at the voice that spoke from the stairs. I let out a laugh at Harry's scared face, moving to my left to make room for him on the couch.

"What are you doing down here?" I turned slightly, watching as he walked around the couch and fell into the cushions on my right.

"Nightmare," Harry didn't make eye contact, "you?"

"Afraid I'll have nightmares."

I let my eye roam over his side profile, noticing the little indentions his glasses have made on his nose and the flex of honey in his eyes.

I never understood why the world chooses Harry to be The Chosen One, why he was picked from so many of us, but as I watched him I wondered did it have something to do with how textbook-worthy he looked. How perfect he'd fit with all the other wizards with prideful smiles and a confident stance.

"Are my glasses crooked?"

I diverted my eyes from his nose, looking into his eyes as they studied my face. Did I look like I belong in a textbook to him?

"No, no," I shook my head, letting my eyes drift over to the fire as it raged on. The warmth was back on my cheeks, making my embarrassment drift away.

"Still thinking about Defense?"

I only nodded my head, while Hermione and Hannah did their best to keep the focus away from me, I knew Ron and Harry would catch on.

"That poor spider, it's was begging," I felt shivers run up my spine, hearing the faint echo of the spider's plea run over the high ceilings of the common room.

"I'm sorry," Harry's voice was so soft, so far yet right beside me.

"Why are you apologizing?"

"Because you shouldn't have to hear that," and I barely caught it, but I noticed how gentle his voice was and the way his body moved closer.

"But you do, hear it?"

"Most nights, yeah," I dare looked away from the fire, watching Harry played with his fingers.

"And you think you deserve it?"

"I mean I'm the Chosen One-"

"You're a boy," I felt my heart leap from the boy. I remember wanting to hold him after the spider died on his desk, knowing how painful it must've been for him.

"I think you're the only person who sees me like that," Harry shrugged, his arms crossed over his chest as the fire reflected in his glasses.

"You know Ron and the others do too."

"Yeah, but not always. When we all first met on the train, I was The Boy Who Lived. But you, I was just a boy with a scar."

"I think still think it suits you," I leaned closer, our shoulders touching as we leaned into one another. Maybe I never saw Harry as the Chosen One, but I always knew he was.

He would never only be a boy to the world, but a landmark of what could've been. A statute of the dark days walking among us.

"It shouldn't have to be you."

"Then who would do it?"

I suppose he had a point, not many kids our age would take this pain on their back for no reason. Nobody would want to live how Harry lived.

"I would if it meant you could live a happier life," I didn't think much about my words, but when I saw the look on his face I wondered if I should've.

"I wouldn't let you take it."

"Fine, we'll split it," I rolled my eyes, the hint of a smile finding its way back on my face as my head rested on the back of the couch.

"What about Ron, Hermione, and Hannah?"

"They'll be our comic relief," Harry barked out a laugh, smiling at the thought and I felt pride swell in my chest. I made The Harry Potter laugh.

"I suppose they are already," the fire reflected in his glasses, a gentle ghost of a smile still across his lips.

"Yeah."

His eyes were the softest green, like a meadow waiting for someone to run through.

"Yeah."

His hair was messy, falling in his eyes and sticking up in the back as if he lost his brush on the train ride here.

"(Y/N)."

I could see the reflection of my lips in his glasses, his eyes searching my face for an answer I didn't have.

He was so pretty, I could sit here and watch him for hours. Just watching, not a soul moving from this very spot.

"Who's down here?"

The unknown voice made my body jump to the other side of the couch, my back slamming into the armrest. Wyatt smiled innocently, not knowing why Harry and I looked horrified.

"Wyatt," I let the lump disappear from my throat. Why was I panicked? Harry and I were friends, sitting on a couch talking about if the world had been different.

But if the world had been different Wyatt wouldn't have been sitting between us talking about Potions, or maybe he would. But that wasn't this world, because Harry wasn't just a boy with meadow green eyes and I wasn't the person who would be running through them. 

i actually really like this chapter omgomg look at me