Harry Styles One Shots

Witch Harry part 2

ii.

Harry should mind his business.

He used to be very good at it – minding his own. If Harry was not directly involved or asked to partake in something then he would not bother his time concerned over it. That's why it was so much easier for him to do some particularly unprincipled tasks when he's asked to do it, whether it be something as simple as giving small tips on how to pick a lock or as complex as summoning a demon to disrupt the life of an angry woman's ex-boyfriend. It's why he doesn't ask questions, he only does, and that is what makes good business, he would say. Nobody wants to be in any sort of arrangement with a Nosy Nancy. He's almost positive that's the first thing they teach in Marketing 101 – he would know if he bothered going to UNI.

So he usually minded his business and only bothered with himself, his family, and Oat.

Well, and Y/N a little bit now – which is what's making him not so good at minding his business.

They locked fingers nearly a week ago and it felt as if it were set in stone, a little seedling implanted in his brain that was destined to grow and flourish. Whether he liked it or not, she was a concern of his now – he'd promised they would have each other's backs and he got caught up in it. The only people that have had Harry's back are his family and himself (a few select demons but he rarely counts them, since they only have his back at a price), so he wasn't used to this sort of camaraderie he was experiencing now. If he was honest, it made him uncomfortable to a certain degree, because he really wasn't sure what to do with himself.

Instead of ignoring how the hair at the nape of his neck stands when the cold wind blows tainted air, stained with the bitterness of an unknown evil – he messages Y/N. He confirms that she felt it too and depending on whether or not it felt strong enough to follow, they would decide whether they let it pass or pursue it. Both had agreed that it had not felt as aggressively as it had the night at the blood bank when the air felt stuffy with the 'no good feeling' (Y/N started calling it that – Harry told her she sounded like a three-year-old but continues to refer to it like that in his head); then it had felt like they were drowning beneath it. It had been suffocating and all-encompassing, and the only time it had even eased was right before the walls started to ooze and when he was in the comfort of Y/N's flat.

He'd only been to Y/N's flat once more since then and it was only for a moment so that he could drop off one of his old books to her that outlined every demon he'd come into contact with (she'd requested it because "If you go through it you might miss something since you were there in the moment - an outside perspective might help" and Harry couldn't be arsed to argue with her). Since then he'd been eager to return – he felt safe there. Her protection spell was lovely, of course – he burned the leaves in every room, he downed the vial of liquid she'd prepared like a shot with her at his side. His home had never felt better, in his opinion – it felt lighter. It also felt like it was embodying its own little world because as soon as he shut his door, the outside horrors couldn't get in. It mimicked the feeling that he got at Y/N's.

For some reason or another, Y/N's flat is just far better in that regard, which is why he is maybe a little too excited to return.

Harry had not been doing much of anything when he'd gotten her message. The cocoa pops in his bowl of milk had gotten soggy so the crunch with each spoonful was lackluster, and he was dancing between the idea of drinking the semi-chocolatey milk or pouring it down his drain. He tries to cut back on sugar during the days because as soon as night comes around he has the most unignorable sweet tooth that he always placates. Oat was resting on the counter, gnawing absently at her old collar so she could unravel the threading, and he was snapping picture after picture on his phone of her. Not for anyone but himself really – sometimes he sends photos to his mum, but otherwise he keeps Oat as his little joy apart from the rest of the universe (some of the demons like her, Harry has found, and he thinks sometimes they whisper sweet little things in her ear because she'll start purring if some of the calmer ones are around – she has her favorites just as Harry does).