Tumblr Harry Potter Imagines

(Harry!XReader)

Tumblr username:Aveeragemusings

Link to the original imagine: http://aveeragemusings.tumblr.com/post/149145427327/deeper-fears-harry-potter-x-reader

title: Deeper Fears

word count: 1310

----

"I reckon today's match should be an easy win, eh Harry?" Ron asks from across the table.

 "Yeah, yeah should be good." Harry replies, nodding at Ron.

 Y/N bites her lip nervously, pretending she didn't hear the exchange as she watches Hermione watch Ron in disgust as he shoves an alarming amount of french toast into his mouth. 

"Y/N, you'll be there right? I'm sure Hermione is awfully tired of sitting by herself in the stands." Harry says, trying to guilt trip his girlfriend into coming. Slick, Potter.

Hermione's eyes narrow, "I don't sit by myself, Harry." Y/N feels Harry shift next to her, probably giving Hermione a pointed glare to shut up. She rolls her eyes and shoots Y/N a quick apologetic glance. 

"Y/N?" Harry continues. She sighs lightly, before turning to face him and feels her heart pang at the hopeful look on his face, his emerald green eyes lit up with anticipation. 

"Harry.. I-"

 "Have to do something? Right." He says bitterly, before turning away from her and leaning his head on his arm so he wouldn't have to look at her. She sighs, reaching out a hand to place on his arm but he shakes it off, not looking at her.

Hermione frowns at him from across the table, rolling up a threateningly piece of parchment in her hands. He grumbles something about getting an extra practice in and jumps up, leaving the table. 

Ron looks at Y/N  after he's excited, rolling his eyes dramatically, "Why can't you just come to one match, Y/N? You know how much it means to him."

 "I-" 

"She doesn't need to explain herself to you, Ronald." Hermione scolds, glaring at him.

 "It's okay, 'Mione. You don't think I know that, Ron? I just- I can't watch you guys fly around. I mean those things have no bloody restraints and he falls off of it all the time." Y/N mumbles, feeling embarrassed about her fear of heights.

She had gone to several of Harry's quidditch games when they were friends, but after they started dating, she had become more nervous. It didn't help that he had at least one quidditch related injury a year. He already got into too much trouble and she couldn't bear to watch him fly through the sky and plummet to his death. She was already worried enough about him as it is. She felt silly, really, he was admittedly a brilliant player who could obviously handle a fall, but it still made her heart stop and her blood run cold when she saw him in his Quidditch robes, despite how handsome he looked.

"Wait.. are you scared of heights?" Ron asks, amused.

 "Oh shut up, coming from the boy who made me come all the way to your dorm to kill that bloody spider last week." Y/N mutters, glaring at him. 

Ron turns red, awkwardly glancing at Hermione, "I couldn't find Harry, alright?"

"Mate, come on, we're going to win, don't be so sour." Ron says, glancing as Harry roughly shoves his gloves onto his hands. 

"I know that. I just don't understand why she won't come." He grumbles. 

Ron sighs, leaning against the wall, "Look, you know she loves you." 

"Enough to never come to my games?" Harry counters sarcastically.

Ron frowned, crossing his arms, "Harry, she's scared." 

Harry looks up at this, frowning, "Of quidditch?" 

"No you git, of you getting hurt." 

Harry pauses, suddenly the gears are clicking into place, the way Y/N got super clingy before he left for a match, the extra  "I love you's" and her cuddly demeanor. The way she would freeze up when someone mentioned a match or practice, the nervous flickering of her eyes. 

"Merlin's beard." He mutters, rubbing his scar. How could he have not noticed?

Harry laughs as Dean imitates the look on Malfoy's face when Harry had caught the snitch as they enter the common room, quiet but the starts of a victory part stirring. Harry is about to add his two cents when someone crashes into him, arms tight around his waist. He reflexively puts an arm around the person's slim shoulders, "Hey there." He hums, pressing his lips to her head.

 He realizes she's shaking slightly, and shoots a look to the others that he'll see them later. "Hey, hey, sweetheart. What're you shaking for?"

 She pulls away, but he keeps an arm tight around her waist. She looks up at him, eyes wide and nervous. "D-did you win?" She asks nervously, her eyes inspecting him for injuries not so subtly and ignoring his question. 

"Mhm, we did." He hums, brushing his hands up and down her arms, noting the goosebumps there.

 "Good. I'm glad." She whispers, relaxing slightly. 

"Wish you could've been there." He murmurs, brushing her hair back and wrapping a hand around the back of her neck, pulling her closer so he can press a kiss to her forehead. She doesn't say anything, but curls closer to him. He feels bad, that he got so mad at her. Her fear obviously had a deeper meaning to it. 

"You okay, my love?" He hums quietly, rubbing a hand up and down her back. She mumbles a response into his chest, and he sighs, "Okay. C'mon, come with me." He mutters, grabbing her hand and leading her up to his dorm.

He lets her sit down on his bed as he goes to change out of his Quidditch robes, "Did you get whatever you were doing done?" He asks. She nods at him, arms wrapped around her knees. He quickly changes, wincing slightly as a muscle pulls in his shoulder. It doesn't go unnoticed as she yelps, jumping up. 

"Did you get hurt?" She cries, grazing her fingers over his shoulder with concern. 

"No, shh. I'm fine, just a sore muscle." He murmurs, taking her face into his hands. Her eyes are nervous, flickering over his bare chest for any other nonexistent injuries. 

"Relax, Y/N. I'm okay." He says, pressing his lips to her softly to get her to calm down. 

"Okay." She mutters meekly after he pulls away.

 "I think we should talk, yeah?" He murmurs, pulling her to his bed, but not next to him, on his lap. 

"Is there something going on?" He asks, as she leans her head against his chest. She doesn't respond. "Y/N, you can tell me." He presses on, rubbing her back. 

"I don't want you to break up with me, Harry." She murmurs quietly. Harry stiffens at this, pulling away, "What on earth are you talking about? Why would I do that?" He asks, peering at her. 

She licks her lips nervously, "Because I'm a terrible girlfriend. I should be your number one fan and even the thought of you on a bloody broom makes me want to cry." 

Harry feels even worse, she had obviously been feeling like this for a while. "Oh, love, I'm sorry. I'm sorry you've been feeling like that. I'm fine, absolutely fine, yeah?" He says  pulling her tighter against him. "You're a wonderful girlfriend. I'm sorry I snapped at you, you were scared and I made it worse." He mumbles quietly, pressing kisses to  her hairline. 

"I don't want you to get hurt." She whispers meekly. 

"I know. I-" He's at a  loss for words, how can he make this better for her? "How about this, tomorrow, we both go down to the Quidditch pitch and I'll show you how safe I can be?" He murmurs, brushing his fingers through her hair. 

She stiffens, "I'll show you I'm safe, love. We won't do anything you don't want too." He placates, nuzzling his head into her neck.

 "Okay." She replies softly, brushing her fingers through his black locks. 

"Okay? Good. Now, let's go party, shall we?" He says, kissing her forehead and standing up.