The crowd cheered as Harry and the rest of the team walked in, but your eyes only followed the boy who lived. Your heart fluttered when Harry looked at you through the throng. You waved at him, patiently waiting for him to walk through, as the younger kids looked at him in awe while the older ones patted his hair.
"You should've seen the look on Malfoy's face when you caught the snitch, Harry. It was wicked!" Ron chewed on as he talked. You weren't sure what he was eating, you could only see his head and his mouth move. You chuckled to yourself.
"Could you at least stop eating now, Ronald?" Hermione looked at him, trying to seem angry. But you knew the truth. Behind their friendly banter, you could see how Hermione felt about Ron. You even tried to ask her about it a couple of times but she brushed it off, her cheeks red. That was enough of an answer for you. You tried to talk to Harry about it but he seemed oblivious to the obvious chemistry between the two. Let things happen at their own pace, right?
A good fifteen minutes later, Harry had decided that he wanted nothing more than to be with his girlfriend so he pushed people out of his way (quite literally) and walked to you.
"Hey." He whispered. Your lower back tingled with excitement when he placed his hand to pull you in, but it was replaced with warmth and comfort the second your bodies touched. He smelled like dirt and mud, but you didn't mind. He was yours and that was all you cared about. You closed your eyes and your hands went up his back until they finally settled in his black hair. The rim of his glasses pressed against your temple and his breath tingled over your neck. It was moments like this that you cherished the most. It felt like Harry and you knew each other forever but in reality, you'd only met him two years ago and you became friends a little over six months ago. It took you less than a month to realize that what you felt Harry was more than friendship. You loved being around him; looking deep into his green eyes, listening to him talk about Quidditch (which really was the bonding point of your friendship), hands lost in each others, exploring every crook and curve of each other's body. You could sit next to him in complete yet comfortable silence, reading a novel while he 'tried to do' his Divination homework, something you didn't have with anyone else. Harry told you a lot about his childhood, something you felt he didn't do with the others. About the Dursleys, 'Cuddly Diddlkins', Privet Drive among other things. You absolutely loved listening to him. He always had a new and quirky explanation for everything, which probably owed to his muggle upbringing. He loved making you laugh, said it was the most beautiful sound he ever listened to. Even when you snorted, he concluded one day.
You'd decided what Harry would be like even before you'd met him. He was the Boy who Lived, the youngest seeker in your world, he even defeated a rather weak Voldemort when he was eleven. He came from the muggle world and knew how both of them worked and you decided that he would be the hardest person to talk to. A really bad assumption, you decided, a second into your first conversation. Harry was the most compassionate and loving boy-person you'd come across. He cared about everyone. Everyone. It didn't matter to him who you were or where you came from. And that was the thing you loved the most about him, especially because you knew how his relatives treated him. How such love came from a man subjected to such hate was beyond you.
"Oi! Get a room you two!" Fred shouted while George whistled. The Gryffindor common room erupted into laughter while you were pulled out of your thoughts and away from Harry. You immediately felt...incomplete. Fred stood up on the table and put his hands to his mouth. "Butterbeer's on us!" He shouted. Everyone howled. Even Hermione, who usually stuck to the rules like her life depended on it, smiled and nodded. George came up onto the table to join his brother. "But what about the firewhiskey, Freddie?" He pulled up two bottles of firewhiskey from under the table and that was enough to let the crowd go berserk, leaving you and Harry alone. Finally.
"Hey there." You returned, playfully hitting his arm. Harry winced in pain for a second but smiled. "Did I hurt you?" You asked, concerned. Harry shook his head.
"It's nothing...just a little cut." Harry tried to play it off, but you weren't going to have any of it.
"Come with me, Harry." You pulled his arm, but he didn't budge. "I'll drag you to St. Mungo's if I have to."
"St. Mungos for a stupid cut? For Merlin's sake, Y/N!" You smiled at him and still pulled his arm, careful not to hurt him. He took a nasty fall during the match, but he stood up claiming nothing happened.
The both of you were sitting down on your bed and you were nursing his wound. Harry was right, it wasn't anything big but you still were concerned. You looked at him for a second before you got up and ran to your trunk, grabbing a "bandaid." Harry had put one on you when you accidentally cut yourself a while ago. Back when you were friends. He saw how fascinated you were by it and laughed. "It sticks by itself!" You had screamed, eyes wide with excitement. He handed a couple to you and never thought of it again, but you'd saved them. Harry looked at you with surprise when he saw what you were holding in your hand. His confusion faded away and a grin etched its way onto his handsome features when he realized it was one of the bandaids he'd given to you.
"You still have this?"
"I have everything you've ever given to me, Harry." Your brow furrowed with concentration as you knelt down in front of him, peeling away the paper from the adhesive band. You gave him a quick smile and stuck it on his scratch, and looked at him beaming. "Still sticks." You marveled. "Magical." You whispered, getting up. Harry grabbed you close to him.
"Come here." You pushed his hair back and tried to settle it down but the more you tried, the messier it became.
"Yeah?" You asked.
"You're amazing, you know that?" He asked.
"You're the fourth person to tell me that today." You chuckled.
"Is someone trying to court you? Name them and I shall challenge them to a duel!" He smirked. You laughed softly.
"Does it matter if they're courting me? I have eyes only for you, Potter." You pushed him back and he fell onto your bed, dragging you off your feet to lay down on him.
"Good." He muttered. The both of you shifted for a while before he sat up against the headboard and you put your head on his chest, your legs over his. All you had to do was move a little and you'd be on his lap. Suddenly, he started laughing. You frowned. You hadn't even said anything.
"What's wrong?" You asked.
"You called the bandaid magical." He laughed again.You realized your mistake. You'd called a muggle invention magical when in reality you were used to flying brooms and potions. Your chuckle turned into a full blown laughter, your body shaking as you moved your head away from, trying to control your laughter.
"Y/N." You looked at him, still trying to control your laughter. "Your laughter is the most beautiful sound I've ever heard. You know that?" He ran his hand down yours. You tried your best to suppress your laughter this time but it turned into a loud snort. You put your hands across your mouth in shock. Somehow, you managed to get rid of your laughing fit. Harry bent forward, moving them away. He kissed your lips before whispering, "Even when you snort." .
