Witches Are. Witches Do.

Chapter 9

That night in bed Harry had a hard time falling asleep. The warm, cosy feelings of comfort she'd felt during Yule so far were replaced with fluttering feelings of anxiety.

She now had confirmation, more or less, that Riddle had been involved in Grindelwald's curse somehow. And she wasn't sure what to feel about that.

She'd known for a while now that Riddle lacked a certain something that made him able to function as a complete human being, so the revelation that he'd been involved in some shady business in the past didn't come as a complete surprise. So why then did it upset her this much that it was keeping her awake at night?

Was it even upsetting her this much?

Or was it something else?

Was it the fact that Harry now knew she was truly in love with Riddle, that the feelings she'd developed for him were real and genuine and that she honestly wanted to spend the rest of her life with him? Because those feelings hadn't changed now that Harry knew of Riddle's involvement in the event that shaped their society over the past five decades or so.

Harry knew Riddle was a bit of an unsavoury character in some ways and yet she still loved him. Still wanted to marry him. Still very much wanted for him to fuck her in front of the fireplace on that thick wool rug.

What did all of that say about Harry herself? And did it even matter, what it said about her?

There was a persistent voice in Harry's mind, that sounded quite a bit like Hermione, that insisted that Harry should be ashamed of herself for falling in love with a man who was capable of harming others like Riddle obviously was. Then again, Harry's father was an Auror, and so was Sirius. They were both capable of hurting others, even killing them if needed, because that was part of the job. A job Harry herself also wanted to do in the future. And no one commented on that, not even Hermione.

So were these objections Harry was feeling just full of hypocrisy? Because whatever Riddle had done, he'd obviously done it for the good of their society. He'd genuinely wanted to save the magical world, of that Harry was sure. So did it truly matter then that Riddle might have hurt people in the process?

And Harry didn't even know yet to what extend Riddle had been involved in the casting of the curse, so perhaps she was winding herself up over nothing at all.

Yes, perhaps she should simply wait with freaking the fuck out until she had all the details, which she'd get after they were married.

And that is what mattered most in the end, didn't it? That Riddle had promised he'd be honest with her once they were officially husband and wife. Could she truly expect more of him at this point, when he'd already promised her the truth?

No, Harry concluded eventually. The best thing she could do right now was to simply wait for Riddle to tell her the truth. And in the meantime she should keep going as she'd been doing already. And perhaps give herself permission to enjoy these newfound feelings in the process.

She loved her future husband. She could admit that to herself now and genuinely feel happy about that. She should just focus on that and not drive herself crazy with what-ifs and could-haves.

The rest of her stay at Riddle's holiday cottage was again filled with comfort and peace now that Harry allowed herself to experience those things. Every time her mind insisted on circling back to thoughts of Riddle's hypothetical past misdeeds, Harry put a firm stop to those thoughts and focused on more pleasant things instead. It worked to such an extend that soon enough she was able to relax completely again while in Riddle's presence and she enjoyed the hours they spent cosily on the couch together. They went for a few more walks in the freezing weather and they even went flying while it snowed once, which was truly a magical experience.