harry styles one shots

the witching hour (witch!h)

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"Are you just going to watch me set up or actually help?"

Harry couldn't help the bark of laughter that left his lips at his sister's jab. He stayed just where he was even when he felt the glare of her eyes on him as he continued the game of changing the contents of her flower vases every time Gemma flicked it back to water before the blooms died. He currently wanted to see how long it would take her to noticed he'd snapped spiked seltzer into the water's place.

"I don't know why you're worrying so hard, Gem," Harry sighed, sinking into the back of his stool where he sat at the breakfast nook, "Just cast a spell and make everything set itself up. It would take 3 minutes compared to the three hours you've been stressing over this."

He didn't have to see his sister's face to know she was rolling her eyes hard enough their mother would have chided her, saying they were going to get stuck that way if she kept it up. "Sorry, I try not to rely on my magic, like you. Is it so bad I want everything to be perfect? This is the first time we're not living with the coven—or even near them. I want these people to like us, Harry."

"And they're going to," Harry cemented, just as he had been since his sister started worrying over the opinions of the mortals that were now their neighbors, "We're giving them free drinks and food, there's no way they aren't going to like us—like you."

"That's not a guarantee, Harry," Gemma argued, twisting in her spot so he could see just how exasperated he was making her. Her expression fell flat when she noticed the bubbling soda water soaking her roses. She shot him a glare that was only deflected by Harry's grin. "Could you at least try to be on your best behavior tonight? It's going to be hard to stay in the HOA if they realize you're a dick and a witch."

"I always am," he said with a cocky grin stretching his lips. Not a complete lie, but definitely not the truth.

Gemma shook her head before she brushed past him, a large crystal bowl full of ice in her hands. "You don't have to come tonight, you know. You could go do something with Mitch or whoever; leave the house to me and I'll just tell everyone how nice my brother is without you contradicting everything I tell them."

"I invited Mitch to come tonight, so I think he'd be a bit busy." Harry's voice was breezy as he kept an eye on his sister. He needed to find the right moment to fill the vases with almond milk when she wasn't looking. "If I didn't know any better, I would feel like you don't want me there, Gems."

"You're not even dressed up, Harry! Do you even want to be at the party?"

"Yes, I am dressed up," Harry argued, a pinch knitting his brows together as he sat up straight in his seat.

"No, you're not," Gemma countered as she climbed on top of a chair with a strip of led lights in her hand she was planning on tacking along the line of the ceiling, "You look like normal."

With an exaggerated wave of his fingers, deep purple nail polish glittering in the light, he gave her another self-satisfied grin. "Exactly," he said, "'M dressed like a witch."

That seemed to finally get his sister to crack a smile, a matching dimple in her cheek making an appearance. As much as he loved to tease his sister, especially now that they were living together for the first time away from their family, he didn't want her to feel like he wasn't supportive of her or messing with her just for the sake of pushing her buttons, and not because he was trying to ease her nerves. Sure, the former was a part of it, but he was here to support her and make her days easier, especially knowing how much she was missing their coven.

"You're annoying," his sister laughed, using a flick of her fingers to keep the strip light held up to the wall while she fixed them to the crease between the ceiling and the walls, "Are you going to change before the party, or is that really your costume?"