𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐲 𝐖𝐡𝐨 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 (Harry Potter x Reader)

Y6 ༓*˚⁺➵ The Reconciliation

"Merlin," Y/N said faintly, easily picturing the scene. "Where's- where is Harry?"

"He's been by your side since they brought you here," said Ron, hesitantly, "but he left, an hour ago, detention with McGonagall for punching McLaggen."

"Right," said Y/N. She still remembered what she'd heard right before the match and still intended to talk to Harry. "when will he be back?"

"Soon, I reckon," said Ron, not looking directly at her. "Look, Y/N, I know he was a git that night, but he still cares for you. Please don't be mad at him. Everyone saw how badly worried he was-"

"I know, Ron," Y/N said quietly, "I know."

"You... do?" Ron looked completely baffled. "That's- that's good, alright then, that's cool. Cool, cool, cool, cool, cool, cool-"

Y/N sent him a bitter look and he immediately shut his mouth.

Silence fell, as Ron frowned and contemplated what might've caused Y/N's change of heart.

"It was Romilda Vane," Y/N said grimly, noticing his curiosity.

"Romilda Vane?" Ron remained to look puzzled.

Y/N sighed and turned on her bed to face him, then told him everything she and Hermione heard before the match.

Ron was as equally angry as she was.

"Who does she think she is?" he grumbled furiously. "Does she realize Amortentia doesn't create real love?"

"Probably, but does she look like she cares?" Y/N huffed, feeling the familiar rise of anger in her chest.

"What'll happen, next, then?" Ron asked.

"What d'you mean?"

"You and Harry," Ron said swiftly, "now that you know he didn't mean it when he said... things,"

"Well..." Y/N didn't know.

Sure, now she knew it wasn't his fault he was given Devil's Draught that night, but it felt like there were things that haven't been said yet.

Weirdly enough, right at that moment, the heavy doors of the quiet hospital wing swung open.

Y/N and Ron turned to the entrance of the room and saw, standing right in front of them, Harry.

He'd change into clean clothes, his glasses were slightly lop-sided, and he was gazing at Y/N with both worry and relief.

"Y/N..." he whispered, then dashed across the room to Y/N's bed.

The next thing Y/N knew, she was wrapped in his arms and he was hugging her tight as if he was afraid he would lose her if he'd let go.

"Harry- Harry, I'm fine," Y/N uttered, letting a small smile slip onto her face.

"Damn right you are," Harry whispered into her hair, "otherwise I'd be in Azkaban right now. Charged for the murder of Cormac McLaggen."

Y/N smiled and hugged him back firmly, absorbing his familiar scent and his familiar sense of comfort she had missed dearly.

"I'm sorry about the match," she said in a low voice.

"It was no way your fault, Y/N," Harry said firmly, pulling away and cupping her face in his hands. "Are you alright?"

"Gentle, mate, her skull's still fragile," said Ron, though he was grinning at the sight.

Harry finally let go of her, red in the face, though he looked determined.