𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 ── ʜ.ᴊ.ᴘ

04: 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝗍𝗁𝗍𝗎𝖻.*

"So, how'd you sleep last night, darling?" asked Harry, taking a bottle of shampoo off the shelf and unscrewing the cap off to apply some on his palm. "Had any dreams about me?"

"Oh, I dreamt about me pushing you off a cliff," she said sarcastically as Harry continued to wash her hair. "It was wonderful."

The Gryffindor rolled his eyes before turning on the shower to wash the shampoo off. "Oh, did you now?"

She shivered slightly when she felt the water and shampoo running down her hair and into the bath underneath them. Harry's free hand has wandered over to massage her scalp, making sure that there weren't any bits of shampoo left.

When he was done, he turned the shower back off, now moving on to the body wash. He began to smear the liquid all over her back and shoulder, then all over her hands.

Suddenly, he stopped, wondering whether or not he should wash the front of her body as well, or just let her do it herself.

Noticing a stop in Harry's actions, she turned her head around so she was now facing him.

"What's wrong?" She asked him.

"I was just thinking if I should — if I should be to one to wash your chest, or I should let you do it because I don't want to be creepy and it's just — yeah, I'm rambling now," he rubbed the back of his neck as he looked away, hoping that she doesn't see how red his cheeks were.

Hearing Y/n's laugh got his attention shifting back to her. "Oh, Harry," she smiled, cupping the side of his face before leaning in to peck his lips. "Why are you acting so shy now? You've seen me naked before, haven't you?"

"Yes, but it just feels out of place if I randomly start touching your breasts," Harry explained, twiddling his thumbs. "I need your permission first."

"Aw, what a gentleman. You don't always have to ask me for my permission to do something, love," she stopped for a second before speaking again. "Unless you kill me that is."

"As if I'll ever kill you," said Harry. "What even made you think that?"

She responded with a shrug before turning around again so her back was facing him once more. "I don't know," she answered. "Now, are you going to clean me up?"

"Right — er — yeah," stuttered Harry, reaching over for the body wash once again and pouring it all over his hands.

"Honestly, it shocks me how you can go from cocky, dominant, and a massive tease to such a shy, awkward boy who hasn't got any experience with girls."

Harry's hands were now making their way to rub her neck and down to her chest. "Well you are my first experience," he said. "You were the first girl I've ever talked to besides my mum, and I only ever act like myself with you."

"It's no surprise," Her breathing picked up the pace as his fingers inched closer and closer to her breasts. "You've always been so awkward with girls, even when I used to be your best friend. I even gave you tips on how to make friends with other girls but you refused since you said that having me and Hermione as your girl best friends is enough."

"Come on, Harry," said thirteen-year-old Y/n, tugging onto the sleeves of his robes as she tried to drag him over to a Gryffindor girl. "It'll be alright, I'll stand from behind a wall and give you advice and act out actions you should do."

The two of them had just come back from walking around the Quidditch Pitch (since Harry had practised earlier that morning and Y/n decided to watch it).

While they were making their way back into the castle, Harry had asked Y/n how to talk to girls since he wanted to make friends with one (despite already having two). Harry swore that never in his life had he seen Y/n smile so brightly. He knew she always loved it when he would ask her for help or advice.