Multifandom Oneshots

Harry Potter x Reader

Harry seems to be back to normal after the Battle of Hogwarts, but that's from the point of view of someone who doesn't sleep beside him every night and wake up to him talking in his sleep.
You come home from the store the day before his birthday to find him sitting on the couch, a book open in his lap. He isn't actually reading, though. He's just staring at the book. He'd been on the same page since he'd picked it up in May.
"Hey, Harry." You say as you shut the door behind you.
He looks up to see you with grocery bags. "Are there more in the car?" He asks, standing.
"I'll get them. Don't worry about it." You say, bringing them into the kitchen.
He kisses your cheek as you walk by and goes out to get the groceries. "What do you want for dinner?" He asks as he brings in the remaining bags.
"Doesn't matter. What about you?"
He peeks in each of the bags and then into the cupboard. "I can make..."
"You needn't cook every single meal." You say with a smile.
"I always cook." He turns to look at you.
He's told you all about his family and life at Number Four Private Drive, and he's been cooking since he could see over the stove.
"I think you can take a break after ten years of it. Why don't you let me cook?"
"Cooking for you is better than for the Dursleys. I don't mind it."
"I'll cook, Harry. You rest." You kiss his cheek and dig around in the cupboard.
"I always cook."
"I know. Take a break."
"I don't mind it."
"Do you want to go out?"
"Out?"
"Yes. For dinner. To a restaurant. You know, those places where they bring you food--"
"Smart ass." He smiles a bit.
"Why, thank you." You take a bow. "What do you say?"
"Whatever you want." He says. "I don't mind cooking."
"You've got to get out of the house, Harry."
"I had lunch with Neville yesterday."
"Let's go to dinner, honey."
"Okay."
You sit down at a Muggle restaurant, and jump to your interrogations as soon as you've ordered. "What do you want to do for your birthday?"
"My birthday?"
"Yes. What would you like to do?"
He shrugs. "I don't know."
You think for a moment about all he could have missed out on as a child.
"We could go to Thrope Park."
"To what?"
"It's a theme park. My parents took me when I was ten."
"You want to go to a theme park?"
"Have you ever been?"
"No." He shakes his head. "I haven't. Are they fun?"
"Very fun."
"You chose that because my childhood was terrible?"
"That was an influential factor, yes."
He laughed a genuine laugh. "All right, Y/N. Let's go."

You wake up that night to Harry shaking so hard he's shaking the bed. You stare at the wall in front of you because he doesn't like when you wake him. Tears well in your eyes.
He sits up, gasping quietly. After a while, he kisses your cheek, letting you know it was okay for you to do something. His lips linger for a second before he sits back up.
You debate whether you should do anything or not. Sometimes he still gets angry. He doesn't want you to know.
He kisses your cheek again, though, reaching around you and pushing your hair behind your ear.
You sit up. "Are you okay, baby?" You whisper.
He nods, but his eyes are pleading.
"It's all right, Harry." You put your arm around him. "I love you." You whisper, and he starts to cry, because, in his eyes, he's Harry Potter, and who could love him?

You wake up the next morning to the smell of bacon. You had wanted to get up early to make him breakfast, but he had beaten you to it. Light was just coming through the window, and he was already cooking.
You come into the kitchen wearing one of Harry's t-shirts. You push your hair from your eyes and smile. "Good morning."
"Good morning. It'll be ready in a little bit." He reciprocates the smile.
You come up beside him and turn him away from the stove, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him slowly. "Happy birthday, Harry."
His arms slip around your waist and he kisses you back, but doesn't reply. He removes an arm to move the bacon off of the hot eye before putting the arm back around you.
"Did you not go back to bed?" You ask.
"I did for a bit." He kisses you again.
"You could've woken me."
"You need sleep."
"So do you, love." You smile and slip out of his arms, turning to the stove. "Go get ready. I'll finish breakfast."
"Are you sure? I can--"
You cut him off with a kiss. "Go. I got it."
You make eggs and toast, but in doing so, you forget about the bacon and overcook it a bit, but it's okay, because he likes it crispy.
"Thank you." He says as he sits at the table.
"You're welcome. You can't cook on your birthday."
After breakfast, you head to the amusement park, and he really does seem to enjoy himself--as much as someone who says "I'm sorry. It's all my fault" in his sleep can, at least.
"Thank you for doing all this." He says on the drive home.
"Hey, that's what lovers are for, isn't it?" You smile and slip your hand into his.
"Where are you going?" He asks when you skip the exit to get back to your flat.
"Molly made dinner."
Everybody's there: All of the Weasleys--except Charlie, and, of course, Fred, and that was noticed--Hermione, Luna, and Neville.
"Thank you all so much." Harry grinned as you're leaving. "I really had fun."
"Of course, dear." Mrs. Weasley hugs him and kisses his cheek.
"The food was delicious." He tells her.
"Always is." Ron agrees.
A million hugs and well wishes later, you both disapparate.
He's still smiling when he gets in the shower, but when he gets out, it's gone. He comes to sit beside you on the couch, his arm around you.
You close your book and turn to him. "What's wrong?"
"Fred." He says, that look in his eye. "Sirius, Remus, Tonks, my parents--"
"Everybody made sacrifices, Harry. They knew what they were doing." You say quickly. "It isn't your fault--"
"It is. And you..."
"I'm not dead." You say, getting worried.
"I know. But now you're war-torn, and it's all because of me. Ron, Hermione, George, Luna, Neville--"
"Harry."
"It's true. Everyone acts like I'm so great, but actually all I did was get some people killed and tear others apart."
"It wasn't your fault. You never had a choice in the matter."
"I could have done things differently. I could have... I could have..." He gets up and walks into the kitchen.
You follow, your heart racing. "Harry."
"'The Chosen One.'" He says, turning to face you. "What was I chosen for? Hurting everyone I've ever loved?"
"No. To save the world. You're a hero."
"I don't feel like a hero." He turns to look out the window.
"Stop this nonsense, Harry. You're frightening me."
"Are you sure it isn't just the post-traumatic stress? Because that was my doing too."
"Yes, I'm positive. You're the one with the PTSD here. And yes, this is more terrifying than anything I witnessed in the war."
"What is?" He turns to look at you.
"The thought of losing you."
"You don't mean that." He turns back away.
You come up beside him, resisting the urge to raise your voice. He never responds to that and it just makes him more upset. "Harry, please."
"Please what? I can't change anything."
"You can change the future."
He looks at you. "What?"
It hadn't made sense to you either, but you had to go with it now. "If you keep acting like this, it won't get anybody anywhere. Only you can write your future. Do you want it to be like this?"
After a moment, he shakes his head.
"Exactly. You have to let us love you without being bitter about your past."
"I'm not bitter about my past, I'm bitter about everyone else's."
"It was worth it."
"Was it? Was it really?"
"Yes it was." You pull his head down and kiss him gently. "Everything's gonna be okay. I love you, Harry Potter."
His lips curve into a little content smile as they do every time you tell him that. He brings his hand up to your cheek and drops his lips back onto yours. "I love you too." He says.