Harry Potter x Reader
In which a young witch struggles with her developing feelings for her best friend
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"I have loved you for years Harry- it's why I drank the poison, its why I pushed you out of the way of...
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The morning of the first Hogsmeade visit dawned bright but windy. After breakfast they queued up in front of Filch, who matched their names to the long list of students who had permission from their parents or guardian to visit the village.
When Harry and Y/n reached Filch, the caretaker gave a great sniff as though trying to detect a whiff of something from Harry. Then he gave a curt nod that set his jowls aquiver again and the duo walked on, out onto the stone steps and the cold, sunlit day.
"Er — why was Filch sniffing you?" asked Ron, as he, Y/n, Harry, and Hermione set off at a brisk pace down the wide drive to the gates.
"I suppose he was checking for the smell of Dungbombs," said Harry with a small laugh. "I forgot to tell you . . ." And he recounted the story of sending his letter to Sirius and Filch bursting in seconds later, demanding to see the letter.
"He said he was tipped off you were ordering Dungbombs? But who had tipped him off?"
"I dunno," said Harry, shrugging. "Maybe Malfoy, he'd think it was a laugh."
They walked between the tall stone pillars topped with winged boars and turned left onto the road into the village, the wind whipping their hair into their eyes.
"Malfoy?" said Hermione, very skeptically. "Well . . . yes . . . maybe . . ."
And she remained deep in thought all the way into the outskirts of Hogsmeade.
"Where are we going anyway?" Harry asked. "The Three Broomsticks?"
"Oh — no," said Hermione, coming out of her reverie, "no, it's always packed and really noisy. I've told the others to meet us in the Hog's Head, that other pub, you know the one, it's not on the main road. I think it's a bit . . . you know . . . dodgy . . . but students don't normally go in there, so I don't think we'll be overheard."
"I don't know how logical that is... Mione..." Y/n warned, though Hermione didn't seem to pay her cautions much mind.
They walked down the main street past Zonko's Joke Shop, where they were unsurprised to see Fred, George, Maddy and Lee Jordan, as well as Angel and a large group of his friends- Angel gave Y/n a friendly wave when he saw her to which she happily returned, past the post office, from which owls issued at regular intervals, and turned up a side street at the top of which stood a small inn.
A battered wooden sign hung from a rusty bracket over the door, with a picture upon it of a wild boar's severed head leaking blood onto the white cloth around it. The sign creaked in the wind as they approached. All four of them hesitated outside the door.
"Well, come on," said Hermione slightly nervously.
Harry led the way inside. It was not at all like the Three Broomsticks, whose large bar gave an impression of gleaming warmth and cleanliness. The Hog's Head bar comprised one small, dingy, and very dirty room that smelled strongly of something that might have been goats. The bay windows were so encrusted with grime that very little daylight could permeate the room, which was lit instead with the stubs of candles sitting on rough wooden tables.
