Harry Potter Oneshots

another friends to lovers trope :p

Harry played with the end of his wand, the soft wood twisting against his fingers. His eyes glued to the window of the Three Broomsticks, watching the snow fall down at its own pace. Knowing that Y/n was out there—on a date—made Harry feel uneasy.

Of course he was happy for her; always. He was just worried on how it is going, that is all. He hoped that the boy she is going out with remembers to bring her her favorite flowers. To open the door for her because she loves manners. To listen to anything and everything she has to say...

"Ron, who is she on the date with again?" Harry asked, as if he did not spend an entire morning learning about him.

Ron, who was holding a small knitted sweater in his hands, looked at Harry inquisitively. "Well, it's the chaser from Ravenclaw... Rudolph?"

"Randolph," Harry corrected, setting his wand on the table. "How do you think it's going? She's been out for a couple of hours already."

Ron picked at the end of the sweater in his hands, bringing it closer to his face to have a better look. "I think pretty well," he answered, plucking the fluff that is escaping out of the ends. "I can't knit at all. I doubt Hermione will accept this poor excuse of a sweater for her SPEW." He looked defeatedly at his hard work, ignoring Harry's anxious face at the window.

"I don't even know when they decided to have that date," Harry ranted, his frown evident on his worried face. "She never talked about him, at all, and now they are on this date? I don't get it."

Ron furrowed his eyebrows. "Why does it upset you that much, Harry?"

"I am not upset, Ron."

Ron gave him the look, the one that means he was not buying it.

Harry shifted his gaze from Ron's glare. Harry could not possibly be upset, he's only friends with her and friends worry about one another. The tightness in his chest subsided as he came into that reason.

"I hope he is treating her right," Harry commented, glancing at the door of the pub, willing her to come inside.

Ron squinted at Harry, still not playing in to the worried role. "Are you sure Harry... you do sound like you fancy her."

"What makes you say that?" Harry asked, taking a sip of his now cold butter beer.

"You sound like me when Krum was with Hermione at the Yule ball," Ron replied, his tone sounding like he would rather talk about anything else. "It's been two years, yet I am still trying to make up for the jerk I was." He bit the end of his sweater, spitting out the loose wool on his tongue. "So, if you want to take my advice, I say tell her before they become pen pals and write to each other every single summer while you are sulking in your home, thinking on where you went wrong and analyzing every single detail about her—"

Harry met Ron's eyes and they both chuckled.

"We are completely insane about these women," Harry joked, running his hands through his hair.

"Yeah," Ron agreed, a soft smile on his face, staring at the knitted sweater. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

Harry grinned, standing up from the table, already making up his mind. He walked past Ron, while Ron gave him an encouraging smile, and headed towards the door. He had two plans: one he really liked and one he didn't like so much. He was going to storm the date and if Y/n is not having the time of her life, he will interfere and tell her how he feels. But if he sees that her face is shining and her smile is reflecting the way her heart is feeling, he will turn away and think how hard it will be to pretend to not fancy her.

Before he knew it, he was already outside on the snow, bits of white clinging to his hair. He shivered, looking around for the Weasley's joke shop. It didn't take long for him to find it because the vibrant colors popped out like a star does in a clear night sky. He headed towards the shop, hugging himself to shield from the cold.