Harry Potter x fem!reader oneshot
You and Harry had an interesting relationship. People assumed you two were dating, and they’d go wide eyed when you or him denied it. Harry had been having nightmares as of late. He’d always had them, but it was worse than normal. You two were at Grimmauld Place after Mr. Weasley had been attacked. Harry had been quiet since his nightmare that night. When you and Hermione woke up the boys and the rest of the Weasley’s gone. Professor McGonagall had flooed you and Hermione over to the burrow after break started. When you hugged Harry, he didn’t really hug back. You took that as a sign to let him be.
You were sleeping when there was a definite knock on your bedroom door. You were rooming with Ginny and Hermione and the pounding only grew louder. Hermione and Ginny lazily got up but before they could open the door, a disheveled tear-streaked Harry smashed the door open.
“Y/N! Where is Y/N! I need to see her! Please!”
You rose from the bed still sleep deprived and eyes half open. You could see Harry with his glasses askew and his hair messier than normal. His shirt drenched in sweat.
“Harry? What's wrong? What’s happened?”
Instead of answering your question he rushed forward and engulfed you into a hug. You were now awake and looking at Ginny and Hermione confused. You stood up slowly holding Harry in your arms. He was crying a bit.
“Let’s go back to your room Harry. I’ll go with you,” you sooth.
You gesture for Ginny and Hermione to go back to bed before walking out of the room with Harry tightly holding your hand. You walked down the hall and into his shared room with Ron. You’d opened the door to Ron’s loud snores. Luckily you knew he was a deep sleeper.
“Harry? I need you to change your shirt, alright? You need to be comfortable. Okay?”
He merely nods his head and reluctantly let's go of your hand to go find a new shirt. It was then you realized what you were wearing. Some baby blue shorts and a light sweater jacket over your tank top, barefoot. You watched as Harry shakily tore off his shirt. You could see his slightly skinny frame. He wasn’t buff or anything, but you could see his toned arms from all his quidditch training.
By the time you zoned back into reality. Harry was gesturing for you to step forward. You obliged quietly, taking his hand and laying him down in his bed. Quietly as to not wake Ron. When you were done smoothing the covers out you went to leave, but were quickly stopped by a hand grasping your waist.
It was a simple request, but you couldn’t fathom that he’d ever ask for this now. Yes, you’d cuddled on the common room couch before. Held hands in the hallway. Kissed his cheek after his quidditch games, and him kiss yours for helping him with potions. And of course, you’d thought of Harry as more than your best friend. But he was confusing, and your friendship was the most important thing to you. You didn’t want to jeopardize it.
“Please?” he whispered. And that was all you needed.
You unfolded to covers and shuffled under them next to Harry’s warm body. You turned to you, hand still on your waist, and pulled you closer. You stared into each other’s eyes for a while. You reached up and took his glasses off his face and turned to set them on his nightstand. When you turned back around, he was still staring at you.
“What did you dream this time?” you asked.
“I...it wasn’t- it was nothing,” he stuttered.
"Harry it’s not nothing if you came to me. Nonetheless you looked terrified! I need you to tell me. And if you're not ready we can talk about it in the morning."
You layed back down and shut your eyes. Unbeknownst to Harry staring at you, eyes welling up with tears.
“You died,” he whispered.
Your eyes popped open. You clasped his hand around yours as you watched the boy in front of you break.
“Voldemort...he got to you. And I couldn’t stop him. He tortured you. I heard your screams and...” he couldn’t continue.
He’d had his worst nightmare and it felt so real. Your eyes had welled with tears just hearing him whisper.
“Harry I'm here. I’ll always be here. I promise.” You leaned forward and kissed his forehead. You then looked him in the eye. He smiled softly at me.
You froze. And then as if it were instinct, you kissed him. It was slow, passionate, lovely. It wasn’t heated or hungry, but longing and joyful. He cupped his hand on your cheek, caressing it softly.
“How long?” you softly asked, pulling away.
“Since third year. But I’ve always known I liked you. But I love you Y/N. And I can’t lose you.”
“I love you too Harry Potter. Always.”
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