Purple Rain.

Chapter Fifty-Four.

With a bounce in her step, (Y/n) left her dorm alone, for she had skipped breakfast in order to look absolutely perfect for her date. She left the Ravenclaw tower and made for the entrance hall, kindly greeting anyone she knew that she passed. She waited at the oak doors for Harry, who didn't keep her waiting for very long.

Harry's hands grew clammy the moment he caught sight of the pretty (Y/n) whose hair was tied into a ponytail, revealing her decorated ears. She looked around the entrance hall for something interesting. (Y/n) wore a short, maroon silk button-up with an attached piece that wrapped around her stomach and tied in a neat bow off-centre. Her jeans were high-waisted and a faded black and her black flats had bows that went unseen. One of her hands held onto the strap of her red heart-shaped bag whilst a salmon jumper was draped over her other arm.
As though hearing his footsteps, (Y/n) turned and beamed at Harry, though her eyebrows were quick to knit together as she caught sight of his last-minute attempt to flatten his hair. Harry could practically feel his hair rising to its normal state.

"Hi," (Y/n) said, slightly breathlessly.

"Hi," Harry said. They stared at one another for a moment. Things had suddenly felt quite awkward as, while the two had hung out alone before, it had never been considered a date. "Well— er— shall we go, then?"

"Oh— yes..."

Harry and (Y/n) joined the queue of people being signed out by Filch, occasionally catching each other's eye and grinning shiftily. There were several failed attempts to keep things from getting awkward— this was due to Harry making the most generic comments that (Y/n) really couldn't hold a conversation with and (Y/n) receiving short answers from any of her conversation starters. Upon reaching fresh air, the pair seemed to relax partially. It was a fresh, breezy sort of day and as they passed the Quidditch stadium, Ron and Ginny could be seen skimming over the stands. Harry felt a horrible pang that he was not up there with them

"Do you miss it?" (Y/n) asked. Harry looked at her, finding her to be watching him.

"Yeah," sighed Harry. "I do."

"It's pitiful that our first game together was simultaneously our last," (Y/n) said. "We didn't get to play together until our third year on our teams and now you've got a life-long ban."

"No need to remind me," Harry grumbled. (Y/n) smiled.

"Remember our first game?" (Y/n) asked. 

"Cho kept blocking me and the rest of the team couldn't dare approach you..."

"And Oliver eventually told you all to just knock us off," (Y/n) laughed. "You reckon he's been promoted to Puddlemere's actual Keeper yet?"

"I ought to write to him," Harry said.
The conversation of Quidditch and past team members carried them out and through the gates, no trace of their previous awkwardness in sight. Talking with one another was just as easy as it was before they shared a kiss, let alone a date. Just as a couple should be, Harry and (Y/n) were comfortable with one another. Before long, Harry could feel (Y/n)'s calmness disappear as a group of girls passed.

"The Plotter and the Harlot," one of the girls screeched, pulling snide giggles from the girls she was with.

"Urgh, (Y/l/n), I don't think you have much taste... At least Warrington was wealthy!" (Y/n) contemplated reminding the girls just who Harry Potter was but ultimately decided against it.

"I reckon they're a good match, though," another girl said, pulling more laughter from the girls. They sped up, talking and shrieking in a pointed fashion with many exaggerated glances back at Harry and (Y/n), leaving an embarrassed silence in their wake. Opting to try and make (Y/n) less livid, Harry shifted the conversation.