Harry Potter One Shots

Time (Harry)

inspired by an imagine written by -auevr

They were eleven.
She was there, and she was beautiful. When he lost his way he didn't need more then a second to think of her.
When he searched for the book about Flamel, he ran into her and nearly knocked over the whole bookshelf. She told him her name was (Y/N). He told her his name was Harry, but she already knew that. His mind was blank as white paper when she smiled at him. He couldn't stop thinking about her, but he didn't know why.

They were twelve.
She was obsessed with getting good grades, and she wasn't there anymore. He still was unsure of why he ached to see her.
(Y/N) looked at him when they were sitting together in the common room after the Quidditch game, her eyes only half open because she was tired. His heart was pounding like a sledgehammer as she asked him to take her to bed. He told her, as she started to dose off, that he couldn't go up to the girls dormitories. As she stumbled away, she accidentally fell into his lap, mumbling a quiet sorry. He felt like he was on fire where she had touched him, and as she went up the stairs, the wrenching feeling in his chest worsened.

They were thirteen.
She was scared, scared for his safety, scared for him. He watched her from afar so he could keep her safe, away from him.
(Y/N) glanced up at Harry as he scribbled on his homework, his mind not focused. She watched him, her eyes sad, her heart hurting. She wanted him to talk to her again; she didn't understand why he was so worried about her being around him.

They were fourteen.
She was happy, because he'd become friends with her again, and he was nervous, because he wanted to ask her to the ball.
(Y/N) was sitting in the library, and he stared at her for a long time before deciding to talk to her, walking in and sitting next to her. Her eyes flickered up to his face, looking glad to see him. She said hello, and then he asked her, nervously, to the ball. After a pause where all he heard was her breathing, she whispered, "Yes."

They were fifteen.
She was in love; crazily, undeniably head over heels in love. He had been unconditionally in love with her the whole time. But still didn't know.
(Y/N) couldn't focus as she watched Harry, his eyes focusing on his broomstick, but he was barely focused himself. His mind was reeling from her intoxicating touch, even if it had just been an accidental bump into each other. She wanted him to tell her how he felt, but was too stubborn to tell him how she felt.

They were sixteen.
She was panicking, knowing he was going to end up doing something dangerous, and desperately wanted to tell him how she felt. He was scared, fearing the future and how to tell her.
(Y/N) stood up as he came into the common room, and he didn't look at her. Dumbledore was dead, and (Y/N) knew that Harry was feeling empty and confused. She touched his shoulder; his chest tightened, and his heart sped up. She looked at him, worried, and finally, in a delirious state, Harry kissed her, touching her, feeling her. She kissed him back. She was the fire in his heart and the ice in his veins, the song in his head and the buzz in his chest. He felt overwhelmed by the intoxicating feeling over her. The ache got stronger.

They were seventeen.
She had been left behind to a terrifying life at Hogwarts, while he had run away to find the horcruxes, refusing to put her in danger.
(Y/N) watched as Neville crawled back out of the hole in the wall, her head tilted to the side with worry. She wanted to believe he was alive, but didn't know; wasn't sure. Harry climbed out after Neville, and immediately searching the room for her, his eyes scoping her out in the crowd, tuning the cries of the people out. Her eyes met his, and she went weak in the knees, and the ice in his veins got colder as he jumped down and ran to her. He pulled her into his arms, as tight as he could, and just held her. She put her hands on his face and kissed him as hard as she could. His skin was on fire. (Y/N) whispered, "I love you."

He was eighteen.
He stood there, broken and quiet in front of the casket, and then whispered, "Goodbye."